Chapter Text
♡ Please read The Prologue before continuing if you haven't already! Link to the prologue here ! Thank you! ♡
Winston was odd.
Aside from being a gorilla, which was a takeback in itself, he was extremely intelligent. He spoke in a way that had you looking to Angela for clarification. The doctor had briefed you upon your initial meeting, stating he was going to be different and to keep an open mind to things. Sure, you had expected him to be a bit odd (maybe even crazy given he’s a scientist), but a gorilla was one of the last things on your list. Angela sensed your nerves upon entering the lab, but hadn’t said anything on it to instead simply give you time to adjust. He was extremely interested in your condition, spouting off about how uncommon it was and how no one before him had truly gotten the chance to work with a patient like yourself before. It made you feel a little self conscious, but you supposed in a good way. He was odd, sure, but goofy was another way you’d describe him.
The two had been talking for some time, leaving you to feel awkward sitting on the research table with only a robe covering you. Angela had apologised profusely when you were asked to strip, but it was funny to see Winston was far more nervous than you were over. As long as it was in the name of research you wouldn’t mind. Besides, you’d already been in this situation so many times by now you were simply used to it.
The two scientists would carefully study the device in your chest, taking measurements and writing down any little details they could make out about it. Athena, the artificial intelligence that overlooked the entirety of the watchpoint, would take the information and document it, helping with the scans that Winston conducted on your back. Though you couldn’t see it (given it was behind you), your back apparently had major scarring far worse than you originally thought. Angela was nice enough to show a video feed of it on the display, allowing you to watch as she pointed to the scarring around the AFA. It was heavy and healed over numerous times, but more importantly the veins there were glowing through the skin worse than elsewhere. It all makes you suddenly conscious of your own appearance. You’d been so focused on ignoring yourself for so long that now having every detail pointed out to you made you all the more aware of it.
As their observation continued Winston would stop to move to his computer, Athena beginning to assist him as he started conducting research on the device. From your position you could see he’d pulled up the x-rays Angela had taken the day prior and was comparing the innards of the device to, what appeared to be, blueprints of possibly an updated one. Angela was still taking notes, documenting the scarring on your arms and face. Your eyes would stay glued to your hands as she used her own hands to feel over areas of interest, mostly on your face and neck where the scarring was the worst. The two scientists were working in collaborative silence, both sharing information through their holopads as more details were found.
As the silence weighed on your thoughts began to drift. You’d already been told by Alina, and ARON, that removing the device had little to no chance of succeeding. Had there been a chance you would’ve already had it removed. Had that happened you wouldn’t be trapped in a research centre, a military base, or now a watchpoint. You’d be out there living among the populus doing… doing what? You didn’t have any plans. Your life had been pulled right out from beneath your feet like a bad magician's act. Before you dreamed of finishing college, finally putting a nail into your art degree and possibly getting a job as a teacher like you’d previously insisted. Or maybe you’d still be working at the cafe, dropped out of school in favour of managing the place and seeing familiar faces on the daily.
None of that was even possible now. You couldn’t even return home to see your family.
The tightness in your throat caused you to swallow uncomfortably, which happened to be caught by Angela as she was inspecting your shoulder. She tilted her head and hesitated before tapping your shoulder to catch your attention. “Franc for your thought?” She stopped her inspection to stand a bit back and wait for a response.
With her catching your attention you couldn’t help but sigh, the tense feeling in your shoulders staying uncomfortably. “I was just… I dunno. Thinking about it all. About everything.”
“Care to share?” She tilted her head.
“My condition. My life. Y’know just… just everything.” The tone in your voice was grim and it seemed to catch Winston as well as he turned to listen in. “With everything going on and just, I don’t know I never got the chance to think it all over. Hell, I don’t even get a say in much. I’m not allowed to live with people normally- not that I truly want to. Or at least I don’t think I want to.” A sigh leaves you, “I’m not stuck in time. I think it’s fair to say I’ve adjusted and all. I get the new technology, for the most part, I’m somewhat caught up on world events, and I’m unbothered by omnics; unlike some people back at the foundation…” Your words were bitter in your final words, jaw clenched as you thought back on the people who distrusted you for ‘being part machine’ as they said. “But y’know I just… I’m just not over it.” You looked down to your hands where you’d been nervously picking at your nails.
Angela didn’t seem too fazed by your words, as if she’d been expecting it, and nodded once you finished. “You have every right to be upset.” Her hand came down over yours and she crouched a little to see your face.
“I know I do.” You sighed, “I’ve lost everything. I’ve already cried my tears… I just can’t shake this empty feeling.” As the doctor stood again, her hand leaving your own, you flipped them over to look at your palms. “It’s as if my purpose is gone. What am I doing? What am I living for? I have no family, no more long term friends, no job, no skills. I didn’t even get to finish college.” A sour taste plagued your mouth as you thought it through, brows knitting together in frustration. “I’ve been told over and over that I’m a threat and shit, I basically proved that yesterday. Over half the people here don’t trust me from the get-go either from having what could be considered a literal atomic bomb in my chest or for the fact that I can hold my own in a fight or hell, simply because I’m new and different.”
Your hands clenched together in angry fists as the emotions began to bubble in your chest. “So… what am I even doing here? If everyone’s just going to continuously fear me- then what’s my purpose?” The glow of your veins began to rise, a static crackling beginning to echo off of your hands as you clenched them tight. Without the gloves on, due to Mercy’s examination, sparks of electricity could be seen bouncing off the skin. The knot in your throat was tight as your jaw clenched, eyes focused on your hands despite the electricity bouncing off them. “If I’m continuously going to prove to be a waste of space then why do I even bother trying? We can’t remove a bomb in my chest. I can’t go back to living a normal life. I can’t get a normal job. I can’t go back and finish my degree. And I can never see any of my family again.” As the thought of your mother came to mind, your chest clenched in pain and you squeezed your eyes shut, ignoring the spikes of pain beginning to flare in your arms as the electric current rippled through them. “So.. now what? What am I supposed to do now?”
A shaky breath slips past your lips, one that makes your shoulders quiver as you struggle to remain calm through staggered breaths. “I can’t just sit around and mope all day. I have to do something. I’ve been given access to all of this new information about the world around me yet I’m simultaneously told to sit and not touch anything.” Your teeth grit together as your jaw clenches painfully, tension building in your muscles as brows twitch. “I’m tired of it. I don’t belong anywhere.”
Both scientists were taken back by the sudden build in energy, both looking on in equal parts fear and excitement. Winston was already documenting the interaction, a scanner keeping track of the energy levels beginning to rise in the AFA as Angela was already moving to grab the gloves she’d set down. “Don’t speak so negatively.” Angela spoke first, moving to put the gloves on you only to stop when she was zapped. As she dropped the gloves she gave a little yelp and looked at her finger, surprised that she was shocked so easily. “You have plenty of life left in you. Even if you don’t serve the same purpose you used to, you can serve new ones, yes?”
“What if I don’t want to serve new ones?” Spite showed in your tone as you snapped back, the lights flickering in the laboratory as you clenched your fists. “No one’s asked me what I want. I’ve just been told what to do and I’m growing sick of following orders like I’m a dog on a chain.” With your eyes glued to the floor you were unable to see the screens of the computer monitors flicker as building energy expelled through the adjacent rooms. “I’m constantly being prodded and poked at. Yes, I get that I agreed to it all. I know I have the right to say no to all these exams and whatever else, but what else am I supposed to do? Say no and get locked away until you all figure out if I’m safe enough to interact with other people? I didn’t get a choice. I never got asked what I wanted to do. And you know what I mean by that. What I want to do in the long-run of things.”
The two scientists before you were silent as they watched on, Winston’s hands stopping their note taking as either person communicated in silence to one another. Before Angela could step in, it was Winston’s turn to speak up. “You’re right.” He swallowed, spinning on his stool to face you now as you finally lifted your head to look at them. “You deserve that choice.”
Somehow his words calmed you and you looked to your hands again, seeing the veins were shining brighter than before as sparks of electricity continued to pop off them. “I don’t know what I want.” A defeated sigh comes as your shoulders drop, the tension still there and dissipating with static pops of electric shocks that expel through the conducting metal. “Everything I want… I can’t have.”
Silence returned again as the three of you all seemed to share the same silent understanding. Everything you wanted was unobtainable. You couldn’t return back home, you couldn’t ever see your family or friends again, you couldn’t do any of it. “It’s unfair.” The urge to cry came forth again, but you held it back along with the lump in your throat. “I should get that choice.” Your words came out quietly, almost a whisper as you looked down to your hands to see the glow in your veins was starting to fade away.
Winston didn’t say a word this time, nor did Angela. They both seemed to share a mutual look to you that caused you to wonder how many other people were in the same shoes as you. Figuratively of course. Winston was possibly one of them. He probably felt like he didn’t fit in anywhere either. There were probably plenty of people out there and possibly here in Gibraltar who felt like they didn’t belong anywhere too. You’d seen plenty of people who stood out just by walking through the facility. Even back at the foundation there were plenty who seemed like they did not belong. For once, however, you felt you had the right to be selfish.
“I think I’m done for today.” You swallowed, making the decision yourself as you hopped off the examination table to grab the gloves that Angela had dropped on the floor. The doctor seemed to hesitate as you began dressing, opening her mouth to say something, but from the corner of your eye you managed to catch Winston putting his hand to her shoulder to prevent her from speaking.
For once you’re allowed to roam free. It’s a new freedom you truly weren’t expecting, but you have an itching suspicion it’s due to the fact that there are cameras everywhere. Surely security here is tight and almost everyone you’ve come across so far has had some sort of firearm on their person. And if that all wasn’t enough, you have the PDA in your wrist that keeps track of you as well. However, you weren’t concerned over the fact that you were being watched and or monitored. If anything it came as a relief given if anything were to happen there would (hopefully) be someone there to aid you when needed. Besides, Mercy and Winston seem to have only the best of intentions. Winston especially. Just from the little discussion you had with him, he seemed genuinely interested in developing something to help your case. It was some reassurance you desperately needed.
Though now as you walk along the metal plates of the watchpoint’s seaside your mind begins to drift. It’s awfully quiet for such an enormous base. The sound of the sea lapping at Gibraltar’s cliffs soothe the ache in the back of your mind as you look out to the horizon. The sun is high, beaming down on the facility with high hopes to the people who inhabit it. You chew at your cheek in thought, stopping to admire the sea in all its vast glory. The sight and sounds bring back memories from your youth. Memories of the days you’d spent standing on the beach staring out and wondering what was beyond the horizon.
A bitter sadness begins to eat away at your gut as you think of your mother.
Alina said they were still searching for any records of her, but what was left was little due to the wars that tore down the cities you once lived in as a child. You could only hope that maybe she died in peace. Maybe they told her you passed away during the trials and she was able to have a peace of mind, thinking instead her loving daughter had passed in peace rather than rot away from some unknown disease. You liked that thought. You hoped it was true. That she was happy in her final years and didn’t blame herself for whatever happened to you in her mind. Maybe she went home after the trials. Mourned over the loss of her daughter. Then came to peace with the idea that she’d passed without having to experience any further pain. And then maybe after all was said and done, she went back to live the rest of her life without the burden of you on her shoulders.
Maybe your mother was finally happy that you had passed in peace.
Yet… here you are.
Still alive.
But.. What if she knew you were alive and seemingly healthy? Would she be happy with that instead? You wanted her to be. You wanted her to know you were alive. You weren’t the shell of a person you used to be. You were no longer sitting around all day on the couch struggling to watch reruns of TV shows you once loved or hobbling around the apartment unable to walk on your own. Maybe if she saw you now she’d cry happy tears despite your fragile appearance. She’d hug you and ramble on about how happy she was to see you again.
She’d want that. It’s all she ever did want.
You wish you knew what you wanted. Everything you could possibly think of wanting was torn down to bits the second it came to the forefront of your mind. Going back to the states wasn’t a choice. You could never get back the life you had before, not that you would truly call that life living to begin with. Maybe before your illness, that’s where you’d want to go back. Back to the cafe you worked in, surrounded by the familiar faces of your coworkers and the manager that always let you take a sick day if you needed it. Back to seeing the regulars who’d come in for the same order as before. Then after work you’d go home to cram for whatever upcoming test you had that week.
That’s the life you want to go back to. Even if it’s mundane and bland, that’s what you wanted. Repetitive days that felt endless only to be interrupted by holidays and memorable vacations. You didn’t mind the autonomous life you had. If you had a time machine you’d go back to it all, even if it meant leaving behind the people you knew now. Alina and Aron would be fine without you. The people here at the watchpoint, Angela and Winston, they probably wouldn’t even notice you were gone. They had more important things to attend to and one girl with a nuclear heart isn’t going to stop their flow.
By the time you return to your room it’s a little bit after lunch. You had eaten alone in the cafeteria after being surprised by how many people were there. However you only recognized two faces, Cole and Brigette. Both parties were chatting with other faces you didn’t recognize, so you simply ate alone at one of the far tables. When you did, it reminded you a bit of being back at the foundation. Alone, eating in silence with no one to talk to but plenty of people to smile at as they walked by as if you two knew one another.
It all filled your gut with a pit of binding, uneasy nerves as you stepped back into your new, empty room. At least back at the foundation you had decorations put up. Back to square one. The only memorabilia you had was a picture of you standing next to Alina. You’d asked her to print it out for you much to her confusion. Apparently physical copies of photos weren’t really a thing anymore, but you were determined and left with a copy of the photo on hand. You were lucky to have put it into your pocket when you were leaving and not your backpack. Thank god it survived the crash.
As you stepped to your bedside table you stopped, aware that something was missing from it. Aron. The little bot was no longer on the shirt you’d left him to sit. Your brows raised and a moment of panic overtook you before you remembered Angela stating something about Torbjörn repairing him. Though you didn’t expect to have someone come into your room for the bot… that part still made you a bit uneasy. They definitely crossed some sort of boundary there, but you weren't going to argue now.
Instead you turned once more to see your bag from the plane was sitting on your bed. It was heavily damaged, the hard outer case suffering some scuffs with the plastic being slightly melted. You inspected it for a moment before opening it to find your things from the foundation were still inside. Messy and obviously searched through, but there. But it was confirmation that they’d found the crash site. You wished someone had mentioned your things had been delivered to your room, but you’re more happy to simply have said things. For starters it meant changing into some more comfortable clothes.
After changing your clothes you looked down to examine your remaining prosthetic. It was still pretty damaged. Winston had done some patch work on it, but both he and Angela agreed you needed new fittings asap. That was a nice thought. You were looking forward to walking on both legs again. For now you’d live with the one you still had, albeit mechanical with a few loose wires that made it difficult to bend at the joints. You sighed, reaching down to feel over it curiously. Winston did a good job fixing what he could, but he said the prosthetic was simply outdated to begin with. Oh well.
You spent some time putting away your things in a lame attempt to make the room feel more like home. It was a poor attempt that only left you feeling more alone. The room was much bigger than the one back at the foundation. Even with your things in it, it didn’t feel like home in any way. Just yesterday you were excited by the thought of starting off fresh, but now that you really got a chance to think it over… you didn’t think you were ready. It had taken you a month to adjust to life back at the foundation and now you’re stuck doing it all over again. Only this time people were going to know even more about you. There was still the chance you weren’t going to fit in and you were going to be the outcast everyone turned away from.
Not that you wanted to be the centre of attention. You didn’t. But you didn’t want to be flat out ignored either. You didn’t know what you wanted. Angela and Winston were trying their best to make you feel comfortable and wanted, but you just felt like another burden to them. They already had so much on their plate. At least you could somewhat take care of yourself. Though without anyone you’re sure one good fall would take you out for good.
All of this negative thinking was really beginning to take a toll on you. As you stayed sitting, staring at your remaining prosthetic, you let out a long sigh. It’s hard to brush away these thoughts. They’re not exactly easy to avoid. You’re sure you’re going through the stages of grief. Denial was you trying to agree to everything in high hopes it’ll all work out eventually. Now… now you’re just angry at everything and everyone. It’s none of their faults. They really are trying to help. Guilt eats away at your subconscious and twists your gut uncomfortably as you stand up off the edge of the bed, using your crutch for support as you begin making your way out of the room. Somewhere in the back of your mind something is telling you to apologise to Angela and Winston.
For now you decide to leave it be, knowing you’ll see them eventually and you can talk with them then. You’re more curious to see where Aron has gone. The bot can’t exactly go anywhere on his own, so he surely was taken by someone. As you think it over you wander the empty corridors of the barracks, looking to find a few doors decorated. Some have nameplates on them, some stickers and other memorabilia. They’re all much more lively than the ones at the foundation. Though now that you think about it, the people at the foundation came and went pretty frequently. You, Alina, the twins, and a few others were some of the only permanent residents.
The idea of calling Alina gets added to your mental ‘to-do’ list as you continue hobbling down the corridor. Your eyes fall curiously on the door that had been open the night before, seeing it was now closed instead. The door was covered in stickers and silly trinkets that were taped down. You stopped to look at them, finding a few gamer-related ones quite funny. That’s right, the girl in there last night was playing some sort of game on her computer when you first passed. Maybe if you see her again you’ll introduce yourself properly. For now you turned away and continued your slow walk down the hall only to spot a room with a nameplate that catches your eye. It reads ‘Brigitte’ in simple, bold letters that have been engraved into a metal plate seemingly by hand. Brigitte was one of the people you’d entered the base with and she had stepped off into a workshop upon your arrival.
The memory gets you walking again, this time trying to remember your initial steps here. Surely Aron would be in the workshop if anywhere? Maybe Brigitte had taken him. If she had, that’s fine, you just wished she’d asked you beforehand.
After taking a few wrong turns and getting lost, you found a recruit that was nice enough to guide you there. You found his name was Dustin and he was new as well. He’d apparently signed on as a pilot and just started a month ago. The two of you have a short conversation as you walk, asking about the base and how things work around here. He’s nice enough to fill you in on some details. What time breakfast, lunch, and dinner all are. Who to avoid and who to meet. He’s oddly nice and you try your best to stay calm through the interaction. Despite the friendly banter, something in the back of your mind is eating away telling you not to get too close.
“So are you an agent?” He asks curiously, a glint of light in his eyes as he awaits your answer.
“Huh?” The question takes you back and you shake your head, “No.. I’m not. What’s that?”
“Y’know, like, one of the big dogs on the team?” His smile falters a little as if he’s disappointed but it comes back in a second. “Like Tracer, or Winston, or Mei?”
“Oh, oh no I’m not.” A nervous laugh leaves you as you shake your head. “I’m just here for some medical research, that's all.”
Dustin gives a little ‘oh’ as he thinks about it, but continues the conversation without any personal questions as to what the medical research was. It felt good to be in the presence of someone who didn’t know about your condition. And if he did, he was doing a damn good job pretending he didn’t. Either way, you were enjoying a conversation that wasn’t based around yourself for once. Instead you were the one listening to him ramble on about the other heroes on the team, the agents as he referred to them. He seemed to really admire them, especially Tracer as he rambled on about how she was the one who inspired him to become a pilot in the beginning. You nodded along with his words politely, trying not to snicker as he boasted over her like an excited child.
Eventually his chatter came to a stop when you got to the workshop where he stopped suddenly to look at you, stepping aside from the door. “Okay well, it was nice meeting you.” He gave a little nod and you returned it, thanking him quietly before saying you’d hopefully see him around. When he agreed and stepped off, you limped closer to the door that slid open before you.
The workshop was loud and rowdy. The people inside were all attending their own benches, some working in teams, some alone. The first person to catch your eye was Brigitte as she was hammering away on some sort of metal plate. Cautiously you approached her, trying to avoid the busy people who paid little to no mind at your presence. It’s as if you didn’t exist. Not that you minded. Being ignored and not stared at like some sort of gold statue was actually… a bit refreshing. Just before you were thinking about being selfish, wanting attention to your own needs, but maybe being ignored is just what you needed.
Though as you stepped up behind Brigitte she whipped her head around suddenly, causing you to jolt in a panic and almost ramble out an apology before she cuts in. “Hey! I didn’t expect to see you here.” She sets down the hammer and turns to you fully. For a moment you were worried your sudden appearance was unwanted, maybe even rude, but her happy demeanour calmed you quickly.
“Hey… Brigitte, right?” You tilted your head slightly and she gave a firm nod. “I was looking for Aron. Angela, ah, Mercy said that someone might be able to repair him? I didn’t see him on my nightstand… so I assumed maybe someone grabbed him while I was out?” Your smile is nervous and she must’ve been able to tell by the way she’s looking you over. It only makes you fidget more. “If you did it’s fine, I just wanted to check in on him, sorry.”
She gives a big smile and slaps a hand on your shoulder hard enough that it causes you to jolt again. “Hey, no worries! I’ll help you find him. If anyone’s got him, it’s Papa.” She stops to take her work gloves off, leaving them on the worn bench before stepping ahead and gesturing to you to follow. As you do, your eyes look over the other workbenches curiously, finding people are working on all sorts of things. Brigitte’s work station is by far the cleanest and most organised out of the bunch. Bits of scrap metal and bolts were strewn about, causing you to walk carefully on your one foot.
The two of you enter a smaller area of the workshop, one that’s obviously separated for a purpose that you come to find is because it’s filled with weapons. The change of scenery takes you aback. Turrets and other devices litter the room, some piled in the corner whilst some sit neatly on tables and or shelves. Your brows raise when a small, rough and brute looking man turns around with a grimace. He looks annoyed at the disturbance, but calms as soon as he spots Brigitte. She says something in another language and you’re left standing awkwardly behind the pair as they chat. You think back to Brigitte’s words and make the connection that this is ‘Papa’. It may just be a nickname, but you’re already quickly deducting it’s not as the two talk. They share strong similarities, you note. Both speak almost the same, despite in another language you can tell they share similar accents. Visually speaking they’re almost opposites with the smaller man having a long, neat, blond beard and Brigitte striking red hair.
“Alright, alright let’s see it.” He finally waves a hand at her, causing you to take note that said hand is actually entirely mechanical. A claw actually. He approaches you, causing you to think he’s going to say something about Aron but he’s suddenly examining your rough prosthetic and mumbling to himself.
The attention causes your brows to rise and you shy away nervously. “I’m sorry, I think there’s been some miscommunication? I’m asking if you’ve seen Aron. He’s my-”
“I know what yer’ lookin’ for but we’ve got more damning things!” His voice is loud and causes you to jolt again as he reaches out to hold your prosthetic in place, preventing you from moving. “They could’ve at least warned me that this thing was gonna’ be centuries old!”
“Papa, be a little more considerate?” Brigitte laughs lightly, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches on with light amusement at the ‘abuse’ you’re receiving.
“Considerate!? Hah! Ask me again tomorrow when this hunk of junk falls off!” He huffs, pulling his good hand away before hobbling back over to his workbench where he climbs onto the chair there.
Confusion is littering your face now as you watch him flip through a worn book filled with blueprints. Irritation is beginning to blossom in your gut as your questions are blatantly ignored. “Where is Aron?” You ask again, sounding a bit more demanding now. The two look at you and the engineer now sitting gives an almost impressed look. “And why do you care so much about my leg anyway?”
“Who do ya’ think was tasked with makin’ you a new one?” He huffs, waving a hand at you dismissively. “The ape’s got yer’ bot. Don’t know why you want that outdated calculator anyway.” Brigitte looks a little upset by her father’s words as well as you, but she speaks nothing on it.
You snap back, “He’s not outdated. He works just fine and he’s my friend, that’s why I care.” The attitude shows in your voice as he looks to you again, a smirk forming on his bearded lips as he snickers.
“I like this one.” He looks at Brigitte with a smile, causing her to shake her head.
It’s hard to get a read on him, but you have a feeling that was actually a compliment and not another insult. So you relax a bit. “Winston has him?” You ask a bit nicer this time and he gives a firm nod. “Alright, thank you.” Before you can leave he snaps at you again.
“Where do you think yer’ goin?” He raises his head and points to your leg with his claw. “We’ve got work to do!”
The demand causes your expression to falter back into confusion as you remember he said he was tasked with making you new prosthetics. “Right, uhm, I really don’t have the time right now.”
“Well I don’t either!” He huffs, hopping off his chair to roll out a stool from one of the other tables. “Sit, let me take my measurements and ye’ can leave.”
Once again you hesitate, brows twitching in annoyance as you truly can’t bring yourself to understand this man. But once glance at Brigitte has you caving in seconds. She’s giving a gentle, encouraging smile that reminds you all too much of Alina. So you give and take a seat awkwardly, still having to use your crutch to balance your weight as you plant your bottom on the wheeled stool.
Torbjörn, as you learn to call him, is an odd man. You truly can’t get a proper read on him, but he seems to have good intentions. At some point Brigitte left, leaving the two of you alone to discuss your new prosthetics. You come to find Angela had personally asked him to design your new prosthetics. He explains that your connectors, the metal rods in your legs, are of an older tech and prosthetics for them are hard to find. It was simply easier to make custom made ones. You also come to find many people in Overwatch have prosthetics and or some sort of mechanical implant. It’s amusing how interested Torbjörn is in making your new legs.
At first he seemed put-off by the assignment, or so you thought. Though light back and forth banter, you come to find he’s actually interested; even though he doesn’t explicitly say so. It shows as he draws up possible designs, showing you all of the possibilities that you could have. He pressures you multiple times to have a hidden panel for a weapon, but you deny the offer.
“I just want regular, working legs.” You say simply through a small laugh.
“They’re gonna be workin’, just with maybe a knife or two inside.” He grins mischievously and you can’t help but laugh lightly at the offer.
“Fine! Fine, I give. Put a knife in there.” You shake your head with a laugh as the Swedish man gives a hearty laugh.
“Now we’re talkin’!” He grins, quickly adding the idea to the blueprints as he scribbles in possibly weapon stashes into your prosthetics.
A part of you finds it funny, but the other half questions the intentions behind it. After all, Torbjörn already stated that he was well-aware of your existence and current predicament. Though he hasn’t asked about the AFA or anything of the such. Once again, it’s refreshing. You two were just talking about legs. Even though the thought of your legs made you a tad bit sad, he made it seem fun? Like the whole thing wasn’t as serious as it was.
Though an idea comes to mind and you look up to him, “Do you think there’s a way we could add in something to diffuse the energy from the AFA?” He looks at you with a raised brow and a curious grin. “Sort of like the gloves I was given.” You show him your hands, showing the pair of gloves Zarya had given you. “Is such a thing possible?”
He thinks on it, pursing his lips as he strokes his beard for a long moment before giving a few subtle nods. “Yeah… yeah we can.” Another grin comes and he frantically begins writing down more notes, making you smile in eager excitement at the thought of adding such a thing to your prosthetics. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to wear gloves all the time.
Before you can open your mouth to thank him, a loud commotion pulls your attention as metal could be heard banging around in the adjacent room. Your brows raise and you look to Torbjörn who gives a low groan as if this is a normal occurrence. Though now that you thought about it, it’s a workshop it probably is. Though right as you go to speak once again, the noises are followed by voices beginning to bicker back and forth. One voice stands out from the bunch.
It’s higher in pitch than most, an odd accent lingering on each word as the owner whines out something about just trying to get some metal. Torbjörn hops off his stool and begins to make his way out the room, causing you to follow with some struggle. You climb off the stool carefully, hauling yourself up on one leg with your crutch tucked tight under your other arm. Torbjörn is already far ahead and you can hear his muffled arguing through the wall as you enter the main area of the workshop to see the swede arguing with a very lanky, tall man with soot covering almost every inch of his pale body. He has a wicked look in his eye as he argues with the shorter man, both arms carrying piles of scrap metal he obviously snatched up off the floor.
“Look mate, I’m just… ’borrowin’ it!” He gives a maniac’s laugh with his words, clutching his pile of loot to his chest possessively as the swede below him attempts to snatch away bits.
“Yer’ not takin’ any of it!” Torbjörn shouts, waving his claw angrily as he uses his one good hand to take a plate of bent scrap metal away from the lunatic. “Maybe if ye’ asked like a normal person I’d give you somethin’ instead of always running away with all me scrap, ya’ damn scoundrel!” He gives another harsh tug on the pile of scrap and it all falls from the lanky man’s arms to the ground where it lays in a pile.
The scene is oddly amusing and you find yourself snickering quietly as you approach the unfolding scene, watching the two bicker back and forth. It doesn’t seem to be in any sort of genuine distaste as Torbjörn is still cracking smiles as he gathers the ‘stolen’ pieces to chuck them into their respective piles on the floor. The taller man, as eccentric as he is, is genuinely trying to convince the swede to give him a few pieces, rambling on about how he’s just ‘borrowing’ the items and that they’d be ‘back in no time’. Whatever that means.
Though suddenly he seems to notice you with a crazed look that makes your brows knit together in a mixture of emotions. “Goooood grief!” He says in an over-the-top tone, his body movements showing his overexaggerated expressions well as he continues. “What the hell happened to you, mate? Did someone fish you outta the sewer?” He gives a cackling laugh afterwards at his own poor joke, shaking excitedly as he laughs over it.
The comment makes your grin drop entirely. You knew you didn’t look great to a degree, but it certainly wasn’t that bad. “You speaking for yourself there?” As you snap back he comes to a very abrupt stop, almost like a still image even holding an expression of shock for another over-the-top duration. You’re in no ‘good looking’ condition for sure, but surely he looks worse. At least you look like you’ve bathed in the past month. This guy looked like he just crawled out of a chimney.
The man gives a loud gasp and blathers some meaningless noises that cause Torbjörn to give a hearty laugh as he tosses a partially melted pipe to the dirt-covered idiot. “Cat got yer’ tongue?” He gives a cocky grin as the lank fumbles with the pipe in hand.
Despite the soot covering his face, you’re able to tell he’s obviously very flustered for being called out so effortlessly. It makes you grin in return. “Does not!” He whines, clutching the metal pipe close to his chest protectively. “And for yoooour information, I’m a grower! Not a shower!” His cocky grin shows through his accent heavy words, seemingly proud of himself for using a term he doesn’t quite understand.
“...I don’t think yer’ usin’ that term correctly.” Torbjörn shakes his head, giving an eye roll before he waves a hand. “Now get out of my workshop before I make ye’.”
The man gives you a nasty glare that somehow only makes you laugh at how absurd he looks, but he’s already hunched over and walking out before you can really say anything in return. “Who was that?” You ask Torbjörn curiously, tilting your head as the door slides shut behind the odd fellow.
“Eh? The junker? Hah!” He slaps his knee, giving a chuckle as you follow him back into his personal workshop. “Just a damn vermin! Always commin’ in here to take what he wants like he owns it!”
With some coaxing you learn the one you’d interacted with is called Junkrat. Apparently, he has a bad reputation. Torbjörn seems shocked you haven’t seen any sort of reports on him, but with a bit of a reminder he nods along with your obvious confusion. He’s some sort of high-profile criminal that joined Overwatch in return for pardons. It all was far more complicated than that, obviously, but Torbjörn didn’t let any of the details out. It was obvious he didn’t care much for the man given he called him ‘vermin’ or a ‘scoundrel’ any chance he got. Whoever, or whatever he was, he interested you somehow. Despite the rude introduction, he seemed like he’d be interesting. Oddly enough, he reminded you of some sort of comic book character with the way he moved and behaved.
You and Torbjörn continued to chat about the other well-known people of the base. You asked a few questions about Angela and Winston, finding Torbjörn had a deep past with the few. Eventually Brigitte came in to check-up on you, which led her to joining in on the conversation. The three of you chatted away and you found yourself… oddly comfortable.
The two had such a welcoming atmosphere to them you couldn’t help but feel at home?
“If you see the big man, ye’ better stay outta his way.” Torbjörn said suddenly as he was leading you out of the workshop. By now Brigitte had excused herself to leave, stating she agreed to have tea with Tracer and that she should get going. You chatted a bit longer with Torbjörn before discovering the time and deciding it was best to leave as well.
The warning caused you to raise a brow curiously to the swede, looking down to him with a confused expression. “That’s uh, well there are a lot of big guys I’ve seen around.” You chuckled nervously, thinking back to Winston and then to Cole. Winston was a gorilla, so he probably doesn’t count, but Cole was a pretty big guy himself. Husky is how you’d describe him.
“You’ll know’em when ya’ see him.” He huffed, “He’s the rat’s partner in crime. Wears a mask, doesn’t talk. Kinda creepy if ye’ ask me.”
“Ah.” You simply nodded, not truly understanding what he meant by the warning but deciding to take it with meaning. “Well alright then, I’ll make sure to keep an eye out.” As the door slid open you gave another ‘thank you’ to Torbjörn who reminded you to come back later for some more measurements. For now you planned to check-in on Aron and possibly get that call in to Alina like you’d planned.
You were left to walk alone again, hobbling down the long, empty paths that spanned the Gibraltar base. To your right you could see the ocean again, leaving a warm feeling in your gut as you peered off at it. To your left was most of the facility carefully closed off behind doors and whatever else. You took in a deep breath, appreciating the seaside air and the bite that it brought to your lungs.
Despite the morning’s events, today felt oddly refreshing. Brigitte and Torbjörn were wonderful. You had been so worried about not fitting in that you didn’t even consider the fact that you just might. Torbjörn had even cracked jokes about fitting right in with the ‘misfits’ given you already looked the part. The joke was far before Junkrat’s rude comment and you did find it amusing. It really did seem as if everyone was missing some sort of appendage. It caused you to vaguely wonder how many other people were missing legs or arms. You’d notice Junkrat was missing both an arm and a leg, Torbjörn was missing an arm, so was Cole, and Ana was missing an eye.
Maybe you would fit right in after all.
When you made it back to Winston’s lab you found the door was open. Cautiously you stepped in, knocking on the doorframe in an attempt not to come off as rude for entering without being invited. Inside you could hear Winston speaking quietly. To which, at first, you assumed was with himself but you could overhear a familiar female voice that you quickly recognized as Athena’s synthetic one.
As you turned the corner you spotted him at his work table, carefully holding tools that caused electric sparks to flicker off the metal plating of another familiar bot that was placed carefully on the bench. Upon your arrival he stopped, looking up to you with a little smile as you set his tools down. “I was told I could find him here.” You said simply, limping over to see the bot was turned off as repairs were made to his innards. “Is he fixable?”
Winston gave a nod, “Of course. Nothing a few wires and plates can’t fix.” As you took the seat on the other side of the workbench Winston went back to work, carefully placing in new wires to replace the old, damaged ones he’d removed.
You watched curiously for a few moments, keeping quiet as Winston gave verbal notes to Athena as the A.I typed them down on the screen behind him. “Uhm,” You cleared your throat after some silence. “I’m sorry I’m taking your time away for this.” As the ape looked at you, you gave a nervous smile back. “I know there are plenty more important things to do than fiddle with some bot.”
Once again he set his tools aside and shook his head, “It’s no big deal. Besides, I could always use a distraction from work.”
“Is this not work too?” You snickered as the ape raised a brow at himself in thought.
“No, no I don’t see this as work. I am a scientist after all. This sort of thing is fun to me.”
“Well then, I guess that’s fine.” You sigh, watching for a few moments longer as he continued once more. The silence was oddly comfortable unlike the morning. Maybe your time with Torbjörn had calmed you down somewhat. “Hey, I’m uh… I’m sorry about this morning.” You started by clearing your throat. “My outburst. I’m sorry for it. It was rude of me to-”
“It’s okay. There’s no need to apologise.” Winston gave you a warm smile as he stopped again, this time putting the tools down to turn his full attention to you. “Sometimes it’s good to get things off your chest every once in a while. I’m sure you’ve been through a lot.”
Seeing him take it all so casually broke something in you, causing you to give a sudden chuckle and shake your head. “Something like that.” Your head hung as you looked over the dismantled pieces of your robotic friend. “I think I’m just tired of trying new things. Every new thing always leads to disappointment in one way or another. I think I’m just tired.” You sighed, “I was just scared no one was going to see past the outside layers.. If that makes any sense.”
“Worried they were only going to see you for your condition?” He asks such a thing and it’s almost as if he’s reading the lines for you.
“Yeah.” You snort, “Yeah exactly that. I was proved wrong real fast on that one.” A more relaxed laugh leaves you as you think back to the friendly banter you’d had throughout the afternoon with Torbjörn. “Proved wrong real fast…” You repeated the words through a mumble as you smiled up to the gorilla. “It felt good to think people here actually want to talk with me and not just avoid me. Angela wasn’t wrong about me fitting right in. I really do look like I belong here.” Another laugh leaves you as you remember what Junkrat had said despite looking almost the same.
Winston seems to be amused by your comment and chuckles himself. “You can say that again.”
“I was told I looked like I crawled out of a sewer by a guy who looked like he just ran across a minefield.” You gave a loud laugh at the thought. “His name was, uhm, oh shit what was it? Right, right Junkrat. Torbjörn was telling me about him today. That guy looks crazy!”
The ape’s brows raise in surprise, “Yes well… Fawkes is a bit, erm, special.”
“Special ain’t the right word for it. Lunatic is.” You giggle, “Honestly though… I’m not even that mad. He’s kinda right.” Your shoulders roll as you shrug causally. “I haven’t really gotten the chance to really freshen-up my appearance.” Winston seems to relax once he realises you were taking the situation lightly. “I’m not sure how to put it… but being insulted like that was actually somewhat relieving?” You tilt your head in thought. “Made me feel… more real? More authentic. Like people don’t look at me and see a walking tragedy or some sort of sob-story. No, they just see me. Even if I’m not the best looking or the prettiest, they see me.”
It’s quiet for a moment as you think further into it only to snap out of it once you realise Winston has returned back to fiddling with the bot. “Ah, I’m sorry I’m probably talking your head off with nonsense.” You give an awkward laugh as you go to stand. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Oh no, no you’re fine.” He gestures for you to sit. “I actually enjoy the company. Hearing something new is refreshing.”
You stop, looking at him in a bit of surprise before sitting back down fully once more to set your crutch aside. “I guess it’s boring always being around the same people?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say it like that… but…”
You give a loud laugh at that and shake your head. “It’s alright, I get you.” A smile sticks to your lips as you think. “How about I tell you some stories from back at the foundation then?”
You chat with Winston for some time, sharing some of the more personal matters of your experience back at the foundation. Nothing truly negative of course. You suppose it’s a good opportunity to tell him about your condition, sharing some of the details of struggling to walk for the first two weeks with your new prosthetic, being a bit depressed and then overwhelmed by all the world news. He listens curiously, asking politely if he can take notes to which you agree to. Eventually, at some point, he asks about your past and you hesitate. You think about it for a long moment, but before he gets the chance to retract his question you shake your head and agree. Winston was trying to help you with your case after all. It wouldn’t kill you to share some of your previous life’s tales.
You explain to him the early years of your condition, repeating the story you’d told a number of times already. He listens curiously, still working on Aron as you ramble on about your past life and all the little turmoils you’d gone through. Occasionally you joke about how little those small inconveniences were now that everything was over, well, not entirely over. You still had to deal with daily struggles, but none were the same. You were more or less in control of your body, which was an improvement compared to your past life. Just thinking about it all now makes you snicker to yourself quietly.
“It seems so little when compared to the bigger picture of things.” Your tone sounds sad and you pick up on it only after Winston does, looking up to see the ape is giving you a solemn look. “Yeah.” You swallow, “I dunno sometimes I just pity myself for thinking I’m so meaningful.” The words are much sadder than you meant for them to sound, but it’s the truth. “Just thinking about it all and my past and everything, y’know it makes me feel like… like I could be doing more to help. There’s so much going on out there in the world right now… but here I am scared that I might not fit in with the crowd.”
“Well…” He obviously doesn’t know how to handle this situation but he seems to be making the best of it. “The world could always need more heroes?” He sounds a bit optimistic, but you take his words with a grain of salt.
“I’m no hero.” You state sharply. “I have no training or skills. Look at me.” You gesture to yourself, “I’m only half a person.”
“Didn’t you just say yourself that you felt like you were fitting in?” He gives a little grin, but you dismiss it with a headshake.
“It’s not the same as being a soldier on the field.” You huff. “Sure I can fit in around here, but I can’t go out fighting the bad guys like you all do. I’m no hero.” You finally give a sombre smile in return as you grab your crutch to stand. “I’m gonna get going. I still want to call Alina before it gets too late.”
With that you give a small goodbye to Winston, thanking him once again for repairing Aron and that you’re looking forward to chatting with the bot again soon. The ape has an expression you can’t quite read, but you ignore it for the sake of your own sanity and continue onwards. Though as you walk the halls again his words are echoing in the back of your mind. You’re no soldier, and certainly no hero. You’ve said it before and you’ll say it again. Just because you fit in with these people and had a device lodged in your chest, none of that makes you fit to be out in the field fighting for what you believe is right. Not like they do. You’ve seen them on the news and videos of them fighting in the streets. What they do makes even the hardest of soldiers knee’s buckle.
Your stomach grumbles in annoyance, reminding you that dinner is right around the corner. If only you could remember what time Dustin said dinner started in the cafeteria. You glance down to your wrist to the PDA device there, finding it was a little before six. Surely it was now or soon? You hoped so. It also made you wonder what's for dinner. Lunch had a variety of options, but you’d stuck to the basics of a ham sandwich to avoid getting something you didn’t like.
Lost in thought you turn the corner only to carelessly bump into something solid. It knocks you right off your good leg and you crumble to the floor like a pile of unglued legos. A groan leaves you as your back collides with the metal plating of the floor and you blink a few times to shake away the throbbing sensation in the back of your head. As your vision returns you look up to find an absolute mountain of a man standing above you.
You also come to realise you’d bumped straight into said man’s gut, not some sort of immovable wall. “Ah, sorry I didn’t look where I was going…” You mumble nervously, taking note that the same man was wearing a very odd, and somewhat creepy, pig mask. Now you’d seen some weird things around here, but this was definitely topping the wedding cake. Aside from the pig mask and eerie heavy breathing, he wasn't moving much. His stomach is covered in a passive pig tattoo that caught your eye. This guy must really like pigs to have a giant tattoo like that. You also note he's not wearing a shirt, just camo pants that barely contain his massive gut.
He stares on in silence as you awkwardly grab your crutch and make a lame attempt to climb back to your one good foot. The stare is making you increasingly uncomfortable as you struggle to haul yourself up, putting some weight onto your opposite stump to aid in your recovery. However before you’re truly able to get anywhere, a large hand wraps itself around your forearm. Your eyes dart down to see the other has grabbed you. His hand absolutely engulfs your forearm, large fingers curled all the way around to touch fingertips as he gives a gentle squeeze as if to test how hard he can pull before he does so. His hand is decorated in rings, ones that must be custom made given just how large one finger is, let alone his entire hand.
With one good tug you’re up on your foot, giving a little yelp in surprise as you clutch your crutch under your armpit before putting weight onto it as he sets you down. He does it so effortlessly it makes you feel as if he has experience in this sort of situation. You take a moment to coordinate yourself, tucking your crutch back into a comfortable position before looking up to the giant of a man who’s still staring on in silence at you.
There’s no doubt in your mind that this is the man Torbjörn spoke of… but you’re not sure how to react in this situation. Avoiding him is entirely off the menu by this point, the guy just helped you out for goodness sake. So being rude wasn’t an option. Truthfully you could only think of one response. “Thank you.”
And just like that, the man gives a low, throaty grunt along with one nod before he brushes past you to turn the corner.
Curiously, you turn to peek around the corner.
You come to find he's walking on, not looking back to you.
Notes:
Thank you all for waiting! I love all the support from everyone!
I'm sorry this took me so long to get to, I'm sorry the first chapter doesn't have much going on yet! ^^"I love all of you so much, thank you for reading! <3
Chapter Text
It’s been two and a half weeks since you’ve arrived at Watchpoint: Gibraltar.
The base is somehow both simultaneously busy and quiet all at once. Some days it’s bustling with life and you’re able to see Orcas come and go at the drop of a dime. But other days it’s dead silent and you’re left wondering what the day’s events will tell. You’ve met a flurry of new faces ranging from those assisting Dr. Ziegler in the medical ward to the hard-working lab assistants who help Winston on a daily basis.
You like to say you fit in well. Blend into the crowd without standing out more than you need to. You’re able to walk around the base freely. Only a few places are off-limits, one you come to find is the lower quarters of Gibraltar that all personnel are not allowed to pass. You’d asked Winston over it once and he explained the area was condemned after their first leave from the base. Apparently it had structural damage and was under construction. Though you didn’t get an answer to your other questions, you felt that was a lie given that if it truly had structure damage the base above wouldn’t be in operation.
Still, you want to say you fit in well.
You got to know a handful of people, mainly agents of the main team that you happened to come across during your time in the laboratory and in Angela’s office. A few of the members including: Mei, who was incredibly sweet. Baptiste, who you thought was serious at first but came to find was quite charming. And a man named Genji who seemingly wouldn’t talk to you. You happened to come across these three often, finding them either in Winston’s laboratory or in the medical ward. They were an odd bunch, just like the rest of the team, but with the exclusion of Genji, you liked them so far. Course you’d seen and briefly met the other main team members, but most you didn’t see often as they were either on missions or in a part of the base you simply didn’t travel to.
In the two weeks you’d been here, however, you found that the main team left rather often. You only saw Angela in only three days of the week and Winston only four. The remainder of the team, even less. You rarely saw Brigitte. She was on missions five days of the week and if not on missions she was off-base doing something. You did see Torbjörn pretty often, thankfully. You were glad to have someone to talk to, even if that someone was a rather grouchy old man. He was still a sweetheart. An interesting thing you found about him was that he absolutely adored his family and rambled on and on about his wife when you asked. Between supplies and time, your legs wouldn’t be completed for a month, but you could survive until then. After all, you’d made it this far with only one leg a few more weeks won't kill you.
You were merely happy by the prospect of getting legs, let alone two of them.
For now you stuck to your daily routine. To make yourself useful you hung around Winston the most. He gave you a small task to do when you asked. Usually organising things, but occasionally you did get to help on the bigger projects when they came to. The most interesting ones were ones for yourself. Winston had been designing a type of compressor for your AFA. It was in the early stages and nowhere near ready for testing, but he believed with it attached it would suppress the amount of energy exerted from the device. The two of you would often work on it for hours… which normally consisted of Wisnton working and you more or less keeping him company, but you at least attempted to help. Though all of this science was far more advanced than your mind could handle.
If you weren’t helping Winston then you were assisting Angela. Thankfully the jobs in the medical ward were far less complex. You were still given easy tasks like sorting and filing, but given all of your time in the medical wing back at the foundation you had some knowledge of basic medical aid. Which let you help the agents who came in with minor things. Mainly the engineering team. Cuts, bruises, scrapes, burns, etc. You’d practically seen it all already in such a short period of time. Angela seemed to dislike you working, but you said before that you didn’t want to do nothing while being there. Besides, Alina gave you enough knowledge on basic aid that you might as well put it to use.
Speaking of Alina, you two talk regularly. Usually every other day in the early mornings. Of course she’d been informed of everything that had happened, but she was simply relieved you were still fine. A little roughed, but fine. She was also ecstatic to see Aron was fine as well. Though during your initial calls you did have to explain he was under repairs and inoperable. You looked forward to every call. She’d usually update you on the foundation first, explaining whatever was new or to say nothing’s changed yet. Then she’d go on about her own personal life, telling you about her family and the new guy she was seeing who began working in the maintenance department.
Little by little, you began to feel like your day to day was becoming… normal? You had things to look forward to. You had somewhat of a job, even if Angela and Winston continued to say it wasn’t a job as they didn’t want you working. And as for skills, you found you were actually rather helpful in both departments of science and medical. Sure you don’t have any schooling nor were you certified, but you could still help with all the little things that made it easier on the team.
Your day to day was still not mundane to any degree. There was always something going on. Whether it be between the agents or on the world-wide news, there was something. The team always went out in groups whenever a new attack would hit Paris or Greece. Watching the news still made you sad much like it did before. You tried to avoid doing so, but it was hard to give the whole point of Overwatch was to help every corner of the world at possibly any given time. Especially when it was all so close.
Sure, the same occurrences happened back at the Foundation but nothing to the degree they were here. At the foundation it almost felt more hidden, here you’d come to find it every day without meaning to. Whether it be by asking Winston what their plans were for the day or by stepping into the medical wing to see new injured soldiers taking up the infirmary tables recovering. As those days came you’d stop to help in the medical wing. Even if not to help the injured, you’d occasionally sit and chat with them to take their mind off things.
At some point Angela had stopped to ask you why you always did that.
“You seem to take interest in speaking with them, even if you do not know them.” She asked curiously, “Why so?”
The question took you aback when it was asked. Truthfully it was something you did without thinking. You didn’t gain anything from accompanying the injured. Sitting with them to listen about their stories, usually them reminiscing about how they miss their family or asking how other soldiers they knew were doing. Those things just came naturally to you.
“When I was still sick and stuck in bed all day, all I ever wanted was someone to talk to.” You said the words simply but you could see the doctor’s brows raise in surprise as you glanced back to the lined beds through the office’s window. “Even if it was just to talk about how the weather was, it’s all I ever wanted. Seeing them all sitting there alone sorta reminds me of that.” You smile a little at the thought and out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Angela staring at you rather than the injured soldiers.
The screen in front of you flickered lightly when your elbows pressed into the cold metal of the desk before you. Video feed had been playing on loop for well over thirty minutes, but you were helpless to stop it as you watched on. The display played surveillance video from the van parked in a snowy opening surrounded by trees. A girl with one leg on a crutch was seen in the feed as she carefully ducked behind a bush, waiting for the omnic before her to approach before she lunged out from behind it.
Your eyes were glued to the screen as you watched the video feed, watching your own movements like an owl. Blue sparks of vibrant electricity rippled off your figure as you drove the knife into the omnic. As the video played before you, so did the memory in your head as you watched. Suddenly, you brought your hand up to slow the feed to watch as the combat knife drove into the omnic before the jolt of energy rippled through the metal. In the feed, your eyes were closed and muscles were tense as your jaw was seen visibly tensing. As the omnic dropped to the ground, the second one was alerted and your figure ducked down to hide as it approached.
So far you’ve watched the footage five times and counting. Something about seeing yourself moving so effortlessly was making your gut clench uncomfortably. Angela said the footage was recovered not too long after your arrival. You hadn’t watched the footage they pulled from the two talon soldiers. When she handed the drive over to you that morning you were visibly confused. She explained it was footage from the crash site so you took it with caution, but watching it now was doing nothing but make your gut wrench.
You weren’t sure why they were giving you the footage to watch. When you asked Winston about it he mentioned that, since the case was personal to you, you were allowed to be informed of any changes or new information recovered.
Still, now you watched the video footage before you with uncertainty. It made sense they’d be fearful of you given the solid evidence the team undoubtedly saw. It was clear as daylight, you were a survivor. Seeing the footage now made you think back to Cole’s reaction to you in the Orca. He’s probably even more suspicious now than ever. It was hard enough to convince him then, god forbid you have to do it again. He hasn’t spoken to you since your arrival. You’re not sure if you’re happy about that or not.
As you close the video feed you hesitate to open the next file.
“Are you scared to watch it?” A cool, robotic voice hums from behind you.
It causes you to spin around in shock, looking to see Aron was now awake behind you. He’d received a new battery and had been charging all night, but you hadn’t expected him to ‘wake’ until morning. “Oh, god Aron you scared me…” You snort, shaking your head with a sigh as you look back to the holo-screen at the next file. “...Yeah. A bit.” A frown tugs at your lips. “That’s normal, right?”
“I suppose so.” His blue eyes flicker to life as he swivels his core to get a good look around the room. “Your room looks different.”
With a forming smile, you stand and approach the core with your crutch tucked tight to your armpit. “Yeah, well, you have been away for a while.” As you sit on the bed to face Aron, you notice there’s still a crack in his display monitor as the two of you make eye contact. “How long have you been watching me?”
“Ten minutes and thirty-two seconds.” His voice is as monotone as ever as he bluntly puts the facts out.
“Of course you have.” A light chuckle leaves you as you rest back on the bed, letting your shoulders drop with a soft breath.
“How long have I been away?” His eyes are looking around the room once again before they turn into a spinning wheel as he thinks. “My diagnostics report is complete. I am running at 73.4 percent capacity. I notice repairs have been made, but not completed.”
“Yeah, we’re waiting for some parts to come in for you.” You reach out to rub your thumb over the bot’s cracked display screen. “You’ve been away for, hmm, almost two weeks?” A grin forms on your lips as you realise you’re finally able to even speak with Aron again. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been hard getting around without someone to answer all my questions.”
“Is that so?” He has an odd tone to his synthetic voice as his eyes return to look at you.
“Yeah.” You give a small nod, “Hopefully the rest of your parts are going to come on Thursday. At least that’s what Winston says. We’re finally going to get you into a better body… or, well, any body.” You chuckle when you think over the fact that your robotic friend is merely a core no bigger than a melon. “We got you a drone shell if that’s alright?”
“If I recall correctly, you said it would be cool to fly.” His lights flicker again before his screen displays a little ‘thumbs-up’ emoticon.
“I did say that, didn’t I?” You grin, “Yeah it still would be cool. If it makes you feel better I was the one who picked out your new shell. I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will, D-6.”
The nickname brings a smile as you stare back at the bot for a long moment in thought before your eyes eventually return back to your desk where the holo-screen is still flickering with the files open. After a deep breath you bring yourself back up onto your foot and stagger back over to the desk to sit again, hesitating for a long moment before bringing your hand up to click on the next file. Aron is silent as the two of you watch the video feed. It’s body footage recovered from one of the soldiers you’d shot. It begins with them walking through the snow field, surveying the area and communicating to one another through hand gestures.
You say nothing as the video plays, calling forth memories from that night. In your mind you’re reliving the moment. Back to the truck where you struggled to climb into it before either soldier got there before you did. The fight to keep both doors shut before you hesitated to grab the gun. In the moment you remember everything moving so slowly, but in the video it’s all so fast. As the doors fling open you see yourself holding the pistol out, a determined look in your eyes as you follow the orders told by your father somewhere deep in the back of your mind. In your memory it’s all so slow… but in the video feed it happens in a matter of seconds.
As the soldier falls to the ground you spot your features faltering with shock before you slam the doors shut.
Today was spent in Winston’s lab helping him with different trials he was conducting on a few weapons taken from the team’s agents. He and Torbjörn worked together well, though not verbally their collaborative projects were far more interesting than you ever expected. Guns and machines weren’t something you thought you’d ever find truly interesting until you began working with them yourself. Today, during your time assisting Winston, you two began speaking over your apparent ‘case’ as they kept referring it to. Winston openly admitted there was a case file on you, but that information was quickly followed up with the fact that there was a case file on every Overwatch agent. Your case, of course, was special.
“Am I going to be charged with anything?” You asked cautiously, looking weary to the ape as he continued to work silently behind you in the laboratory.
“Uhm, no. I believe you are not.” The sound of his voice didn’t help ease any emotions you were feeling. It seems he was unsure himself and despite how badly you wanted that not to be true, you knew it was. Winston had stated simply that some agents were still unsure of your circumstances. He was vague with his explanation, obviously hiding something he possibly wasn’t allowed to tell you- but you hadn’t pried for any answers. All Winston stated as that a few Agents were still ’unsure’ of your arrival and felt you posed a threat to the team.
Though you respected Winston’s honesty, appreciating he was willing to tell you the truth (unlike Dr. Ziegler) it still didn’t make you feel any better. As for who the agents were, you weren’t sure. He didn’t list any names or give any hints as to who they were. Course you don’t know what you’d do with that information. Confronting them would only draw more suspicion and avoiding them would do the same. For now you’d act natural. You had nothing to hide. At least… you don’t think you dont.
“So why is everyone speculating me of something bad?” You asked the question rather blunt, brow twitching with annoyance over the idea people here still didn’t trust you. Surely by now you’d proven yourself to be no threat. If you weren’t helping Winston or Angela daily, you were cleaning one of the workshop areas with Torbjörn. The three could vouch for you if they felt you were truly of no harm.
“It’s not like that.” Winston gives a frown and stops his fiddling with the pulse rifle on the table, turning to look at you now as you stared back. It was quiet for a moment and you were sure he was trying to find how to word it all properly without sounding bad. “Some agents are just concerned for the team’s safety. It is unusual for us to bring in someone in a rushed manner. In your case-”
“Winston, it sounds exactly like that.” You interrupt him, unable to hide a somewhat hurt expression as you set down the tools you’d been holding. “I’m not some wanted criminal. You guys have access to all my records and I’ve told you nothing but the truth.”
“I trust in you.” He confirms, “I do. It’s not me or Dr. Ziegler who believes you are of any harm.”
The confirmation makes you falter a bit. It makes you feel a bit better to hear it from Winston, but still, his words only mean that the others are fearful of you. “I know it’s because of the video footage.”
The ape frowns a little. “It is.” He agrees with a nod. “It is odd for someone with no background history or training to act in such a vigilant way…”
Even you, yourself, don't know why you acted that way. It all happened so fast yet so slow in your mind that you could still recall it all, but your feelings were still unsure. “I was just surviving.” You sighed, looking defeated as you tried to find some sort of reason to justify it all. You can’t. Taking out two omnics and two armed guards wouldn’t mean anything for the agents of the team. But for someone like yourself, an untrained civilian with no background record on anything even remotely related to fighting? It was suspicious.
Though one thing was still eating away at the back of your mind, “But aren’t there known wanted criminals on the Overwatch team?” You ask the question suddenly and you see it causes Winston to jolt in shock. “Junkrat and the other guy… aren’t you all suspicious of them?”
The ape stares back for a moment before giving a long, heavy sigh as he nods. “You just don’t understand-”
“I don’t understand?” You glare back, a bite to your words as the ape falters once more. “Why isn’t that just a yes or no question? I would be suspicious of someone who was known to be a world-terrorist, y’know.”
“Yes we are still weary of Fawkes and his accomplice, but it’s different than your case. We have a background record of them and besides we keep surveillance on them con-”
You slap your hands down against the table and stand, grabbing your crutch that was lying close by to tuck it under your arm. “I’m not dumb, Winston. I know you guys keep track of me wherever I go.” A hurt look resting on your features and the scientist before you seems at a loss for words as you turn to limp around the table. “I shouldn’t be some threat just because there’s a gap in my record. Alina told me you guys found my records from the states, so you know I’m telling the truth. I can’t help that I can't physically get whatever papers you need to make you all believe I’m real. What will it take?”
When you get no answer you head for the door in a newfound annoyance, a painful lump in your throat rests there as they slide shut behind you.
“We found a few papers of your records… but nothing much else.”
Alina frowned over the video feed and it caused you to let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “How am I supposed to get anywhere if we can’t even prove I existed somewhere” The question goes unanswered as you rub your temples, chewing on the inside of your cheek in thought as the doctor before you looks uncertain herself.
In an attempt to feel better you’d called Alina to discuss your history again. It was late for her, but she didn’t mind taking the time out of her evening to assist you. The foundation had finished recovering what was left in the laboratory they’d found you in. It was a wonder why they took so long to finally exhumed everything; Alina said it was something about funding and resources. It was plausible. After all, you were the only survivor found in the area, they didn’t have time to recover the remains of others along with paper records while there were still living in need of help.
The records that were recovered that supported your case were minimal. Just a few transportation documents stating your cryopod was moved from one location to another. That information had already been found previously. Alina had transferred scans of the document to you, but there really wasn’t any use you could get out of them. Sure you could run the papers to Angela and Winston say you have a record of being in Germany… but that really wouldn’t do you any good.
You’d left the lab early feeling stumped, but now it’s worse than that. It’s like everything you’ve worked towards was suddenly put on hold by all this new information coming in. It caused you to wonder if they hadn’t recovered the video footage… would they be more inclined to believe your story? You weren’t sure.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it.” Alina’s voice caused you to look back up to the holoscreen where she smiled at you reassuringly. “These things happen and it’s hard to work through them, but you’ll get through it. Besides, you have me and a handful of others at the foundation who will still vouch for your sanity, alright?” She let out a little laugh at a thought. “Though it did alarm me to see you took down all those guards, I’m not surprised. You have that type of will in you.”
As badly as you wanted her words to relax you, they didn’t. Seeing as even she was alarmed by your actions made your gut twist uncomfortably. She probably feels the same way Angela and Winston do. She wants to believe you, but you made it hard acting so vigilant like that.
A sigh slips past your lips and your shoulders drop as your head falls into your hands. “Alright.” You nod and swallow down the binding lump in your throat before looking back up to Alina. “I think I’m just going to take it easy tonight. Call me if you guys find anything new, yeah?” When the doctor gives a confirmation along with a simple goodbye, you end the call and stand to reach for your crutch once more.
With Aron still charging for the night, you were left alone again and decided to put some use in your time to see how Torbjörn was doing. Despite it already being late you knew he would more likely be in his workshop. You’d seen him there a few times before far past working hours, alone in his part of the shop working on god knows what. Right now you could use a distraction, even if it came with some odd insults from the Swede who would undoubtedly comment on how slow you were assembling something. The thought actually made you smile a little.
However, as you enter the workshop you come to find the lights are off aside from one lamp left on at a table, and it’s empty. You don’t even hear the sounds of the radio Torbjörn normally has on, nor the Swede’s indignant grumbling as he works, nor the sound of a hammer. Instead it’s dead silent as you step inside, the door sliding shut behind you right as you let out a defeated sigh once you realise he’s not there.
The sound of metal clanking together gently catches your attention. It sounds as if something is rummaging through a pile of nuts and bolts. Then the sound of someone’s voice could be heard in a similar manner, muffled and mumbling.
Having hoped the Swede is still there, you pull your crutch closer and begin walking over to the side-room of the workshop, the one that Torbjörn works in privately. However as you enter the room you come to find no Torbjörn and instead someone is hunched over under the desk rummaging through an old bin filled with all sorts of small parts. Said person has a flashlight in their mouth and is holding it there to look through the bin. He’s not wearing a shirt, only old torn and tattered shorts that could definitely use a wash. He looks odd hunched over and you notice in the dim light you can still make out definition in the muscles on his back. He’s somehow mumbling to himself despite the flashlight between his lips and looks quite serious, possibly annoyed.
The entire scene finally pulls a snort from you that alerts the man.
In surprise the rat flails and slams his head on the underside of the desk before scrambling to get out from beneath it. He’s dropped the flashlight in the process along with a handful of mix bolts and washers he’d taken from the box. After hitting his head he finally gets out from under the table with a few curses, already looking to the ground for the items he’d dropped. But after a moment his eyes dart to you instead, “What’re you doin’ere?” The accent is as heavy as the last time you’d heard it, which happened to be in passing.
Now that you think on it, you don’t actually see Junkrat often. Instead you hear him in the distance usually grumbling about one thing or another. He has a very distinct voice that you’ve noticed, you can pick out from a crowd without blinking. “I should ask you the same thing.” You grin, looking smug as you lean against the door’s frame and watch the man as he still doesn’t stand to his full height, instead stands slightly crouched. “Y’know, this is the exact reason Torb calls you a scoundrel.”
He lets out an over-exaggerated gasp, even going as far to put his hand to his mouth as if he’s genuinely offended. “I ain’t doin’ nothing wrong!” He proclaims through a wail before his eyes dart back down to the floor where the mixture of nuts, bolts and washers were still lying from when he’d dropped them. “I’m just… borrwin’.” His eyes narrow and he looks from side to side suspiciously before dropping down to his knees to begin collecting the dropped parts.
“Yeah, borrowing.” The absurdity of it all makes you laugh again, finding the way the man spoke and moved was downright hilarious. He moved like a cartoon, he really did! Even as he was gathering the parts his eyes kept squinting at you as if you were going to steal them. “And we asked Torb if we could borrow these parts?” You grin again, stepping forward before reaching down carefully to grab one of the bolt’s he’d missed.
Junkrat eyes you again, still looking suspicious as he thinks about your question. “Yeeees…?” He lies right through his crooked teeth before reaching out in an attempt to grab the bolt you’d picked up.
You go to offer him the bolt, but at the last second pull your hand away in denial. He gives you another over-the-top shocked look as you hold the bolt inside your balled fist. “That’s a damn lie so don’t even say it.” A huff leaves you right as Junkrat climbs onto his mis-matched legs to look at you with an annoyed expression that he’s doing nothing to hide. “What do you even need these for? You’re never even in the workshop.”
“I can’t work with all the ruckus in here even if I wanted to!” He proclaims, practically yelling once again before he tucks away the items he’d already collected into one of his short’s pockets. “I’m in me own shop! I ain’t gonna sit around here listenin’ to the short-ass tell me what to do.” He huffs, obviously still eyeing you curiously for the withheld bolt.
Once again his movements cause you to snicker and shake your head. “Ridiculous… you do know there are cameras in here right?” That seems to shock the Aussie as he jolts up to look around suspiciously, eyes squinting as he looks for the mentioned camera. “I’m kidding.” There probably are, but you honestly weren’t sure. Though to be fair you believe if there were cameras Junkrat would’ve been banned from the shop long ago.
Finally you extend your hand to the junker to offer over the bolt. He eyes you once again before snatching the bolt frantically, alert to the chance of you taking it away once again but you don’t. After he takes it you shake your head with a chuckle, “What are you even making anyway?”
The question seems to spark something in the man. His eyes are bright with excitement as he frantically puts the bolt away into his pocket before posing dramatically to announce his big ideas. Both his hands are extended as if he’s envisioning it, “I call it- the BIG doozie!” He has an eccentric smile that rubs off on you as he begins rambling on about his latest invention. From what you gather it’s some sort of bomb that most definitely isn’t safe given how he giggles on about how destructive it possible is going to be. Before you know it you’ve followed him out of the workshop and into the hallway where he’s still going on about this ‘big plan’ he has that’s one hundred percent secret, so he can’t let you in on it, but you must know that it's going to be big. Whatever that means.
“Alright well, I’ll leave you to it then.” You shake your head with a smile as you turn to leave, seemingly contempt that you managed to get the idiot out of Torbjörn’s things for the night. However you’re stopped when he gives a seemingly unhappy while that reminds you of a puppy being locked out of a room.
“You aren’t gonna come n’see it?” He has a disappointed look beneath the soot of his features and he’s slouched down further than before.
It makes you stop and think for a moment. You didn’t have any plans for the evening now that Torbjörn wasn’t in. It couldn’t kill you to go take a look at his latest and greatest invention. Plus… Junkrat’s rather amusing. You’ve heard all sorts of bad things about him from Angela and Winston, but he doesn’t seem that bad? Maybe a bit crazy and quirky, but aside from that… he seems pretty nice.
“Where are we going?” After a bit of walking you find yourself in an area you’ve never seen before. It’s eerily silent on this side of the base. Most of the lights seem to be off too, but you chop that up to it being lights out given it’s so late. Then again, you find it odd you don’t see or hear anyone else.
“What’ya mean by that? We’re going to me lair.” He looks back to you with a big smile, seemingly giddy at the prospect of taking someone ‘to his lair’.
“Can’t believe I’m letting the man who told me I look like I came out of a sewer take me to his lair…” You mutter the words with a grain of spite, remembering your first interaction with the junker all over again. Since then you did take some effort into making yourself more presentable, but there really wasn’t much you could do in the cosmetic department. With half your face heavily scarred and hair still growing back slowly, you really did look a mess. At least you had nice-ish clothes.
He gives a loud gasp that seems to echo in the corridor as he stops to look at you again. “Don’t tell me you’re holdin’ me to that, mate? I was just messin’ with ya!” He waves a hand up and down frantically to gesture to your figure. “ ‘sides, look at’chew mate! You clean up pretty good I’d say. With a bit more hair you could be the next Queen, sheila!”
You truly weren’t sure if that was a complement or not, but given how he seems to be smiling rather genuinely, you take it as one. “Well maybe I would say the same for yourself if you’d take a bath.” You snort at the shocked expression he gives at that. “I swear every time I’ve seen you, you look like you just crawled out of a fire pit.”
“This is a warrior’s paint!” His voice is loud once again as he turns away dramatically to continue onward. “Keeps me in shape! On edge! Alert! Ready to snap at the next drongo that crosses my path!” His voice is practically a shriek as he rambles on, hands moving dramatically with each word as if he’s practising for his part in a show.
As the two of you continue onward, so does your conversation. It’s relieving to find someone else who’s willing to share casual conversation with you, even if it’s the simple back and forth banter that jabs at the other’s appearance. He rambles frequently, usually mumbling off about what work he has to do or when he begins spouting off about ‘the last person who crossed his path’, but truthfully you take it all with a grain of salt. He’s crazy, that’s for sure, but he’s genuine. The conversation moves quickly as he doesn’t stop to think on one thing for too long. One moment it’s his ‘big plan’ and the next he’s rambling on about how horrible the food in the cafeteria was.
Your attention is split half between listening and half to looking around to observe your surroundings. At some point the two of you took stairs down to some sort of below deck corridor. The area seemed more or less abandoned given how stacks of crates were left littering the area. The stairs in themselves were enough of a struggle to get down, but now you’re having to watch your step at every turn given there’s heavy cords and whatever else draped over the metal flooring. For a moment you wonder where the hell the rat was taking you (and if this was a death sentence), but then you finally piece together that you’re in the lower parts of the watchpoint. This is the area Winston told you not to go into because it was abandoned. Which, that seemed true, but you were beginning to believe that you weren’t supposed to go down here because of other reasons. Those reasons being the man in front of you leading you into a large, open room that was furnished.
Well, furnished is putting it nice. The area was furnished, sure, but the first couch you saw looked like it’d been through hell. Everything looked that way. Torn, broken, patched together with duct tape and god knows what else, and overall just ruined. There were string lights hanging from the ceiling to light the area and many of the bulbs were out. Though it had somewhat of a homey feel to it. It was lived-in, that’s for sure, but hell the place still looked more ’normal’ than any of the other rooms you’d seen so far. It wasn’t clean by any means. Litter, which included but wasn’t limited to; soda cans, wrappers, nuts and bolts, half-burned boxes, what appeared to be bombs, and heaping piles of scrap- was filling all the small nooks and crannies of the room.
One corner of the room seemed particularly damaged as if fires had been set there given the heavy, black soot that covered the wall and floor. Next to it you spotted Junkrat’s ‘workshop’ as he called it. The table was horrendous. Absolutely covered in soot, ash, grease, and god knows what else. There were a few hand-made bombs strewn about and a few items that you recognised to be guns of some kind given your time in the upstairs workshop.
The room was large, possibly some sort of training or storage room back when it was used by the main facility. There was one window on the far wall that had a beautiful view of the ocean. Before the window was a king size mattress that was just as worn as the rest of the room, but at least it had blankets and pillows. You noticed there was a heavy indent in the middle of the bed as if someone large had laid there for some time.
In fact looking around the room now you could tell there were spots of the room that seemed clean. Well, somewhat clean. Most particularly a countertop that seemed to be a makeshift kitchen with a plug-in stove top, a mini-fridge, a sink, and a kettle all together. There were a few boxes of tea, a few mugs, and a sugar jar sitting on the counter. It was definitely clean when compared to the rest of the area, but even the items there had some sense of wear to them given the fridge had a large dent in it, and the kettle seemed to have been burned over the bottom.
Overall you found the area surprisingly inviting. You didn’t feel awkward entering someone else's home even when Junkrat told you to be mindful of the bits on the ground, referring to the piles of trash.
“N’here is my precious work of art! Ain’t she a beauty!?” Junkrat’s voice grabs your attention and you turn to see he’s at his workbench holding up a… Well, you weren’t sure what the hell it was. It seemed like some type of bomb? However the nails in it made your mind think elsewise.
“Uhm, I dunno if I’d say it’s a beauty but it looks cool?” You try to be supportive but your words obviously offend the Junker who gives another dramatic gasp as he clutches the thing close to his chest. “What is it exactly?”
Despite your ‘insult’ he seems more interested in telling you what the thing is. “I call it… the king’s heart!” He holds the item up high with both hands, showing it off to you proudly with a huge smile that shows off his crooked teeth all too well. You take note that a few of his teeth have gold caps. “One of these bad boys can make a whole scrapheap go up n’flames, mate! Boom, bam, and woosh! It’s gonna be beautiful!” He seems moved by his own words, imagining the explosion in his mind as he brings his invention close to his chest to stroke it almost lovingly. “It’s gonna be a beauty!”
The demonstration makes you giggle and so you bring your hand to your face to hide your smile from the man who’s now eyeing you suspiciously. “M’sorry, I’m not laughing at you I promise.” You totally were. This guy was just so fucking hilarious without even trying to be. Every time he speaks you’re hooked on every word, watching him as if he’s putting on a grand performance and unable to pull your eyes away as he moves. “Well tell me how it goes when you use it, alright? I’d love to see something so grand.” You pull your hand away and smile again, noticing how he's fallen silent as he stares back at you with wide eyes.
There’s an odd pause for a long moment as he stares at you almost as if he’s… confused?
He looks confused, but after a moment he cracks a big smile to continue rambling on about the device. Obviously you’ve guessed it’s a bomb by now and sure, you can figure out what it does without the explanation, but you let him continue anyway. He seems happy just telling you about it, going into great detail about the innards of the device. Eventually he sets it down to show you the detonator for it, explaining he needed the last few bolts to keep it together.
Whilst speaking your ears off he’s beginning to finish the item, grabbing tools and rummaging through his filled pockets for the last few pieces he’d stolen from Torbjörn. You watch with interest, finding he was somehow more interesting to watch working than Torb or any of the other engineers in the workshop. Junkrat is far more passionate about his work. Putting aside that he rambles on about how beautiful or great his inventions were, you could tell by watching him now that he truly puts effort into his patchwork projects. Though eventually his words slowly come to a stop as he focuses, so you go silent and allow him to work in a moment of peace. He’s moving fast, almost too fast for you to keep up, but standing at the workbench’s side, you’re able to watch him easily.
However, about midway through his work he stops to look at you once again. He looks a little lost again, brows knitted together as he thinks before turning to frantically look around his room for a moment as if he’s lost something. You look too, thinking maybe he’d dropped something he needed, but you’re proven wrong when he steps away to grab a folding chair from the table in the kitchen area. He brings it back and pops it open, assuring it’s stable before he gestures you back. You do, now looking confused yourself as he puts the chair down in the spot where you were standing. As he steps away you continue standing and he gives you a look that’s indescribable before suddenly smacking the seat.
“Well don’t just stand there, mate! Go’on sit down!” He looks frustrated that you didn’t sit as soon as he popped the chair out.
The sudden kind gesture makes you chuckle softly and you give, putting a hand up in defence. “Alright, alright I’ll sit!” You step around and sit only to instantly feel relief in your side from getting the weight off your one leg. “I can survive standing, s’not gonna kill me.” The words leave you with a mumble as you set your crutch down at the chair’s side.
“Yeah but it sure ain’t good for’ya!” He huffs, returning back to his work but still eyeing you suspiciously. “Where’s yer’ other leg at anyway?”
“Hm? Oh, I don’t have another one.” You shrug, looking down to your remaining prosthetic. “Just the one.”
“Well that’s no damn good!” His brow cocks as he looks you over and down at your prosthetic, bending down to get a good look at it. “We’ll have to get ya’another!”
His offer makes you snort and shake your head. “Torb’s already making me a pair, this one’s at its rope’s end anyway.” You turn your leg to show the few frayed wires that were sticking out. They’d been capped, but replacing them would be more of a hassle than simply living with being unable to move the ankle. “I’ll be fine, it’s not like I’m really going anywhere.” Junkrat’s still eyeing your prosthetic with a mixed expression. He looks curious and suspicious at the same time, eyes narrowed with his lips pursed and a hand to his chin. As always, he’s amusing. Every little action he does is somehow dramatic. You truly wonder where this man gets his energy because had you been doing a quarter of what he does, you'd have been torn to pieces by now. And you have a heart that produces non-stop energy.
“You wanna trade?” He flashes you a big smile and sticks out his pegleg to show it off to you.
The sudden change in his demeanour makes a laugh burst out from your chest and you swat away at him. “Why would anyone want a stick for a leg?” Your smile doesn’t leave as you point to his leg, “Look at that thing! It looks worse than my own!”
“No it ain’t!” He gasps, holding a hand to his chest in defence. “That’s just cruel, sheila! I was offerin’ you a bloody good trade!”
“Like hell you were! Look at that thing. It looks like you’ve run through a minefield with it!”
He gives a cackling laugh as if he were arguing with an old friend, “I have!”
Somehow, his smile rubs off on you as the two of you go back and forth with the playful insults. There’s no malice behind the words as you poke fun at the fact his pegleg looks god awful. In return he jokes that at least he has two legs and while the you from the past might’ve felt hurt by such a thing, the you now manages to laugh at it and agree. Maybe it’s because Junkrat doesn’t know of your past. Or at least, that’s what you’re assuming. Given how he doesn’t seem to shy away from joking about your stump legs nor shy away from exposing his own. He doesn’t tell the story of how he lost his and you don’t share your story either, but you like it that way. It keeps an air of genuinity to it.
Eventually the conversation dies away as he returns to working, falling quiet for short periods of time once again. You sit and watch, finding there was nothing better to do but even if there was, you feel like you would’ve stayed anyway. He does stop occasionally to show you his progress. Though you really don’t know all that much about bombs or detonators, you still listen and let him explain everything in great detail. And as he speaks you shift in your seat, suddenly aware of the fact Junkrat got you a chair to sit down in. It was very considerate of him… and when you think on it, somehow it made your face feel hot.
He’d thought about your comfort and wanting you to stay to keep him company.
It was a small gesture, sure, but it was simply the thought behind it that caused you to take notice. Besides, it’s odd seeing and hearing him now given all you’ve heard about him from others. Torb didn’t seem to hate the man, but he didn’t exactly like him either. Angela and Winston were on a similar note, saying that he was a troublemaker that needed to learn a lesson. And Mei absolutely despised the man. Yet now, here you are keeping him company in the late evening alone in his room, er workshop, wondering how people could think such a thing. Junkrat just seemed, or well was, so genuine. He didn’t have a filter on his mouth, sure, and he was a bit rude at times, true, but he didn’t seem to be negative in any way? He was just a nutcase.
A nutcase you found yourself thinking about spending more time with. With even just the little bit of time you’ve spent here now, you were thinking about coming back tomorrow when he was finished with whatever project he was doing. You wished you could see him use the ‘king’s heart’ but you doubt you’d ever get to see it in action. At least, if you do, you hope it’s not here. You don’t want to see the watchpoint go up in flames, after all. Maybe you’ll get a video feed of the actual action out on the field.
Your eyes are beginning to feel heavy as you attempt to keep listening and watching. At some point you’d begun resting both elbows on the table to keep your head propped up in both palms. You were still too interested to pull your eyes away though, watching Junkrat’s flesh and prosthetic hand work somehow both carefully and recklessly all at once. He was dropping things, mumbling curses to himself, and making a mess of his table. Yet, occasionally he’d stop to look at you to ensure you were still watching and or listening. When he did you’d smile back and make a comment on whatever he was doing that would cause him to smile back before continuing on with his ramblings.
Maybe it was the sleep pulling at the back of your mind, but you found his smile was strangely cute.
You woke to the sound of a heavy thump echoing in the room. It caused you to jolt upright, sitting up to blink yourself awake slowly, looking around to see familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings. Junkat’s shrieking voice is heard behind you rambling on about something, but he’s talking too fast for your waking mind. You give a groan as you rub a sore spot on the back of your neck as you go to stand only to have a grim reminder of one leg. With a yelp you fall to the floor and give an annoyed sigh, eyes still heavy as you feel around for your crutch.
There’s a heavy thumping coming towards you, barely giving you time to really register it before something, or moreso someone, grabs your arm. It’s a familiar feeling that puzzles you for a moment as to why it’s so familiar before you look to see a hand that had hauled you up before. The oversized mass of a man lifts you with ease, pulling you up on your one good foot where you stare at him in shock for a long moment. He continues to hold you upright as he bends down to grab your crutch, handing it to you in an assertive manner.
You fumble to take it, tucking it under your arm and finding you had to put weight onto it before he would let you go. “Uh, thank you.” You mumble the words, still feeling tired as the mountain leaves your side to return to the front of the room where he’d previously dropped a box full of scrap metal that had woken you.
“Don’t go thankin’ the bloak! He’s the one comin’ in’ere making ruckus and wakin’ya!” Junkrat shrieks through a heavy accent as he follows said ‘ruckus’ to start rummaging through the box he’d brought in. “What’dya bring in anyway, mate?” He’s searching through the pile of junk with rapt interest, already making a smaller pile outside the box of items he wanted for his own.
“Not for you.” The mountain grunts before using his foot to push Junkrat aside like a doll. Rat gives a whine as his companion reaches down to collect the items he’d taken out, putting them back into the box before picking it up to carry it away. Junkrat watches in dismay as the other puts the box in a corner next to the bed, against the nightstand that has a few odd cans strewn over it.
You watch the scene with sleepy eyes, reaching up to rub one before starting to hobble over to them. The mass of a man is quiet as he puts his own things away, keeping his back to the whining rat who’s still acting as if he’d been denied candy. “Sorry for falling asleep.” You say quietly, catching Junkrat’s attention and causing him to stop his whining. “I forgot how late it was.”
“Don’t ya’worry about it! Everyone needs a nap every once in a while, mate.” He gives a crooked smile as he stands upright, well, somewhat upright. You’ve taken notice that he never actually stands all the way up. He always has a light hunch to his posture. The comment makes you shake your head with a snort, but you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed for falling asleep like that. You hadn’t fallen asleep like that in years… even back then when all you did was lounge around the house. Junkrat just… made you oddly comfortable.
You’re snapped from your thoughts as the other man in the room steps up behind Junkrat and gives a heavy grunt, catching either of your attentions without saying a single word. Since your first interaction with him, you hadn’t actually seen Roadhog again. Unlike Junkrat whom you’ve heard rambling on or shrieking in the halls, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Hog. And now you’re here standing before him, finally getting another good look at him.
He truly is massive. Even Reinhardt can’t compare to how large this man is. Their heights can compare, but Roadhog’s sheer size alone beats out most of the competition. He has an eerie atmosphere to him. The silence he gives is discomforting and the mask he wears prevents you from seeing any emotion whatsoever. Unlike Junkrat who’s animated, Hog is practically motionless. He’s not still in any way. His shoulders are actually relaxed, but despite all of that you can somehow tell he’s alert.
“Uhm, Roadhog right?” You speak up first, grabbing Hog’s attention with the slightest of head turns. “I don’t really think we’ve had the chance to meet properly yet.” Without the slightest of hesitation you stick your hand out to him and introduce yourself properly.
He stares at you without moving. Long enough that you’re beginning to feel awkward for offering a handshake to the man who could probably crush your throat in mere seconds. And just as you go to withdraw your hand he reaches out to take it, giving you one firm shake that jerks your entire body forward from the force of it. He releases you after merely a second, allowing you to fall back in place after being shaken up a bit. Another throaty grunt leaves him as he brushes past Junkrat, causing the man to stumble backwards a bit.
“Look at Roadie bein’ all friendly with our guest!” Junkrat exclaims despite being pushed aside, giving a big smile as he turns to watch his companion wander off into a side room.
You watch until he disappears into another room allowing you to look down at your hand with surprise. For such massive hands, they were actually rather soft and despite how forceful his handshake was, you feel he was actually trying to be gentle. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.” You look back to Junkrat to see he’s pouting a bit and the sight makes you chuckle lightly. “I’m sorry, but I’m tired!” As you explain in a lighthearted manner you begin heading to the door, “How about I come back tomorrow and you can show me the finished product?”
The junker’s eyes grow bright at that, “Throw in some chips and you got yer’self a deal, mate!”
When you leave the room Junkrat follows behind and steps ahead to help lead you back the way you came. “Sure, sure, I can bring some snacks.” You snicker at the ‘deal’ you’ve just made. Junkrat sure was ridiculous, but still somehow courteous. The two of you might just make good friends after all.
Junkrat continues to ramble on about his favourite snacks as he walks with you back the way you both came before. The stairs become your biggest rival as you struggle to climb them, having to hop up each step. Going down wasn’t an issue, going up is. Junkrat was already going ahead, but stops when he finds you’re not right on his tail as he expected. He watches you struggle for a moment and steps back down to grab your arm, taking you by surprise as he pulls it over his shoulder.
“I’ve gotcha! Let’s go!” He gives an encouraging smile as he begins helping you up the steps. You give a quiet ‘thanks’ as you accept his assistance, holding onto him to hop up each step with far more ease now that he helps by lifting you. It’s silent for a few moments before he suddenly asks a question that makes your stomach turn uncomfortably. “How did’a gal like you lose’em anyway?” He asks, obviously referring to your legs as he eyes you curiously. The question is entirely innocent and despite how many times you’ve answered it, it somehow makes you uncomfortable for once. Everyone you’ve known thus far has somewhat of an idea as to what’s happened to you, but Junkrat doesn’t. He’s entirely oblivious to your past and a part of you wants to keep it that way. You don’t want him to pity you like the others do.
“It’s a- ah… um, long story.” You chuckle nervously, keeping your eyes to the stairs as you continue to struggle.
“Oooh, one of those stories huh?” His voice is a bit sadder this time as if he knows exactly what you meant without specifically saying it. “I get’ya. Don’t worry I won’t ask.” He snickers, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he helps lift you up the next step. “Since I asked, I’ll let ya'know I blew me own leg off.”
When you look back to him, he’s giving a big toothy smile that makes you involuntarily snort. “On purpose?”
“What!? Course not! Just bein’ reckless.” He shrugs, “Learned my lesson with that one though.”
“I’m sure you did.” You shake your head in thought, thinking there’s no way he learned his lesson giving he’s still making bombs in present day. “What about your hand? You blow that one too?” You ask, nodding to the hand currently resting on your left shoulder. Now as you look at him, you find a familiar expression that you can only describe as relatable. He looks just as you felt being asked the same question. “One of those stories, huh?” You repeat his question with a softer tone, giving a smile yourself this time in an attempt to comfort him.
He seems to hesitate for once, looking to his own hand before giving a nervous crackle as he nods in agreement. “We’re a bunch of misfits and freaks aren’t we?”
“I don’t know if I am, but you sure are.” With the conversation returning back to a more light-hearted one you move onto another topic, instead asking him what drinks he’d like you to bring tomorrow. He quickly takes the opportunity to change the topic and begins rambling on about his favourite types of cola, stating specifically that the lime ones were the best and his favourite. He apparently likes boba tea the most, but as he explains with a groan, you can’t get it on base.
When you get to the top of the stairs Junkrat lets you go only once he’s assured you’re able to walk with your crutch. Once again you thank the man, confirming with him once again that you’d see him tomorrow with snacks and drinks. He seems giddy at the prospect and promises he’ll show you ‘the big one’ before rushing back down the steps to his ‘lair’ once again. You watch him go with a soft smile, feeling oddly warm by the realisation that you’ve managed to make a friend. Not that Winston, Torb, and Angela aren’t your friends… Junkrat was different though. You spent time with them to keep yourself busy with work, you found yourself wanting to spend time with Junkrat just to spend time with him.
With a smile you turn and continue onwards back the why you came, taking mental notes of the area and which turns to take so you could find the way back later once you come again.
Thankfully it takes you no time to return back to the main area, familiar hallways filling your view once again as you hobble down the corridors towards the barracks. As you do, you pass by the workshop and the infirmary, seeing all the lights were off now that it was well into the night. You didn’t catch the time from either Junkrat or Hog, but you felt it was probably past midnight by now.
Though a bit into your walk back, voices catch your attention and you turn to the hallway they’re coming from. They’re muffled through the walls, but it sounds as if people are arguing.
With curiosity getting the best of you, you go towards them to find they’re coming from a double-door room where one door is cracked slightly. You peek in, hearing a rough, grated voice of a man arguing about an ‘oncoming threat’ as he slams his fist on the table. When you peek in, the person speaking is standing. It’s an older man judging by his whitened hair. His eyes are covered by a visor, but you still recognise him as Soldier: 76. Angela had mentioned him a few times and so had Winston, but based on their voices now it seems they were in a full-blown argument now.
“We really just gon’sit around while they’re walkin’ around free-range doin’ god knows what?” A familiar southern accent pulls your eyes over to a man who has his boots up on the table, arms crossed in defence as he huffs out his argument. “We need to do an interrogation. Sit n’talk. How do we know that doctor out in Russia ain’t lying to us?”
“The foundation is our ally.” Angela speaks up and stands when she does, pointing her finger down to the table as her brow twitches in annoyance. “She has done nothing since she’s been here. If anything she has only been of help to both me, Winston, and Torbjörn.”
Her words comfort the unease in your gut, but you can’t help and feel uncomfortable eavesdropping like this. You obviously weren’t meant to be listening in like this, but you can’t help it. They’re talking about you after all. Anyone would listen to such a conversation.
“And that’s exactly why we should be suspicious!” Cole slams his hands on the table and stands himself, pointing a finger at Angela with narrowed eyes. “We’re sitting around like ducks just waitin’ to be shot in the damn back at any given moment! You’re all letting her get close to you and the moment you turn yer’backs bang!”
“We need to take precautions.” Soldier speaks up again, still standing with his arms crossed over his chest as the others turn to face him. “What if we have another sleeper agent on our hands?” The room seemed grim at the question, especially Ana who seemed to sulk down in her seat for the moment. “Exactly.” Soldier says with a huff, “We need to tighten security. We shouldn't even let her leave her room unescorted.”
“Changing things so drastically now will only further do damage. We may well still be wrong.” Ana spoke up finally, “Besides. Genji is still keeping watch, is he not?” She turned to look at Angela who nodded in agreement.
“Genji has been keeping reports. He even stated himself he thinks there’s no need for alarm.” The doctor frowns, “This is all ridiculous. We’ve taken in plenty of people before from all over the globe, why are we worried about one person?” Her tone changes now, a bit more assertive and annoyed as she looks to Soldier.
“This damn person has a god damn bomb in their chest!” Cole snaps again, “And we’re lettin’ them walk around’ere like they own the damn place!”
“Stop it, Cole.” Ana snaps her fingers at him. “You’re saying that as if you’ve forgotten she’s here to try and quell said bomb.”
“The possibility of the AFA even overcharging is slim to begin with.” Winston says simply, “We’re more likely to be harmed by the side effects of the device before it would even get to-”
“What are you talkin’ about!?” Cole exclaims, “She almost took down our damn plane and you two even said yourself the power outage when she first arrived was caused by it. It seems like it’s gonna explode at any god damn minute!” He stops to grab a remote off the table, pushing a button that causes the holoscreen on the far wall to flicker to life. You watch with a hitched breath as the video feedback from the van begins to play, showing the moment you take down the first omnic with a knife. “These damn side effects are pretty serious, don’t you think?” Cole’s jaw clenched as he watches Winston and Angela visibly deflate by the video.
“Quit being superstitious.” Ana says again, still much calmer than the others in the room as she sits upright. “We’ve all been in a situation where our instinct took over.”
Winston nods, “She was just trying to survive. We shouldn't take this out of context.” He gestures to the video feed. “We would’ve all done similar things in a situation like that. Her argument holds up.”
“Yeah, well I can’t force electricity out of my damn body!” Cole huffs, “What about her shot? You’re tellin’ me someone inexperienced is able to hit a shot that damn well?” He pressed another button, causing the screen to change to a silhouette of a person with red highlights labelling where the bullets collided into the talon soldier. “Head, head, chest, chest, chest,-” He spouts off as he points to each spot according to the report. “And you’re telling me to cool it? Not a single damn shot missed.” He drops back down into his seat hard enough for the sound of his spurs to echo in the room.
It’s quiet again as everyone thinks, but Ana up first in your defence. “She has an alibi for that and it’s true. Her father was a soldier. It’s highly possible he taught her those skills, she even said herself that’s the case.”
“Sure we got it on record, but there's a chance he may well have not taught her.” Cole accuses bluntly.
“And there’s a chance he did.” She argues back, looking annoyed with Cole as he slouches in his seat.
“We are still gathering records from her time in the states, so nothing is certain. We are lucky to have gathered what we have now.” Angela sighs, “We are walking around in circles here.”
“Exactly.” Soldier huffs, “Which is why we need to do something n-”
“We will be doing nothing!” Angela slams her hands down to the table, catching everyone off guard as the doctor finally grows tired of the banter. “Everything will stay the same how it is now. It is mine, Ana, Winston, Brigitte, and Torbjörn’s vote that she is under no suspicion as of today. That outweighs anyone else's vote no matter what opinion.” She looks around the room at the others. They’re all dead silent, a tense air to the meeting room as she reaches out to turn off the holoscreen. “No one will take any steps against her, no one will bring these suspicions up, and no one will take vigilant action on their own accord. Do I make myself clear?” Her eyes narrow as no one makes an objection, “This meeting is adjourned.”
With that they begin to stand and you take that as your signal to leave, quickly hobbling back to the main hall and onwards to your room. You’re not sure how to feel about the new information. Half of the main team is suspicious, half is not. It makes your stomach upset just to think about it, but there’s nothing you can do. At least you now know who to avoid.
For now you quickly escape to your room, unaware of the eyes following you.
Notes:
As always thank you all for reading! ( ^◡^)っ ♡
Chapter Text
The morning is eerily quiet.
You proceed with your daily routine after struggling to get out of bed for another ten minutes as per usual. You do the usual routine of clicking your prosthetic into place before grabbing the shorts you’d left out the night before from your nightstand. With a little hop that’s carefully weighed out by your elbow on the dresser, you manage to pull your shorts on. Next comes your shirt which is far easier to get on after discarding your night one. As you finish up, you look up at your reflection in the mirror hanging over the dresser.
Truthfully, you don’t look at yourself very often anymore. Sometimes it’s a grim reminder of your rough appearance, sometimes it’s a nice thought to think you were somehow still alive and moving. Yet looking at yourself now you’re stuck staring at all the flaws. The scars lay on the right side of your face and down your neck, over the collarbone and down your shoulder where they meet on your hand. Angela had given you some cream to use to lessen how deep they were, but as she’d said before- with your regenerative capabilities you were bound to have scars forever. At least they weren’t as dark as when you first received them. Another reason you hate seeing yourself in the mirror. It’s always a reminder of that day.
Oftentimes the plane crash would replay in your mind. Usually in a dream where you’d wake up in a cold sweat after a painful memory of the plane falling from the sky like a shot bird. If it wasn’t a nightmare including the crash site, it was one including an operating table where you were trapped beneath blinding laboratory lights. In those dreams you’d hear mutters of German and shadows of movement, but you could never seem to wake yourself from those nightmares. You hadn’t mentioned the dreams to Angela, but they were beginning to eat away at your mind. They were progressively getting worse and making sleep much harder than you wanted to admit. Sooner or later you’d inevitably tell her when you couldn’t handle it anymore, but at the moment you weren’t sure if you wanted to speak with her. Not after last night.
The conversation you’d eavesdropped on was still making your stomach turn whenever you thought about it. You should’ve never stopped to listen. As soon as you heard your name you should’ve just turned around and walked away to let them all talk in private. But it’s hard to ignore a conversation that you’re the centre of, you felt most people would probably stop to listen, right? It didn’t matter. None of it did right now. You could avoid Angela and Winston for a day, it wouldn’t kill you to have other plans. That’s right. You promised you’d see Junkrat today anyway, so you did have plans to excuse yourself too. You just hoped your disappearance wouldn’t cause them to grow more suspicious of something you weren’t even doing.
With a yawn you exit your room after asking Athena, the base’s AI companion, where Aron currently was. Yesterday he’d been in for some final repairs on his core and you hadn’t seen him since. It’s possible Winston still has him. Which in that case would be fine, he could stay there for the day and you’d pick him up in the evening. Athena confirmed he was still with Winston so you took that as a sign to continue onward elsewhere. For now you could grab some snacks and see Junkrat, then later this evening you could pick up Aron. Besides, you weren’t exactly ready to see the scientist at the moment anyway. After yesterday you weren’t sure how the main team was going to act around you. It’s possible they’ve already had plenty of meetings like this before in the past and you were just unlucky to stumble upon one of them. That thought made your stomach turn uncomfortably no matter how hard you tried to force the feeling down. You and Winston already had an argument over the lack of trust between you and the others. Last night only solidified your worries. Oh well. There wasn’t anything you could do about it right now.
As you leave your room you find the hallway was far quieter than it normally was. It caused your lips to tug down into a frown as you stepped forward, allowing the door behind you to slide shut before you continued onwards to the cafeteria. After all, you did promise Rat some snacks and possibly drinks if you could get them. You began your walk, well, limp there, looking down to your own prosthetic with some annoyance when you thought over your new-coming ones that should be finished soon. Torb was just waiting on a few more parts, then they’d be done and ready for a test-ride. You just hoped they were comfortable. Hell even if you did have to use a crutch or two once you got them, you’d do anything to get all of the weight off your left leg. All this time you’d been putting weight onto it, your back has grown sore from the imbalance you’d put on it.
For now you push through it and continue on, sighing to yourself as you attempt to roll out the stiffness in your shoulders. With all this talk about how your body regenerates at an alarming rate, it would make one think you wouldn’t have any pains or soreness. Actually you feel you have heightened soreness. Your shoulders constantly feel stiff, especially the left which is possibly from always having a crutch under it. Same goes for your back. Angela had mentioned that exercising may help the muscles form more. You’d worked out a good bit back at the Foundation and it did help there, you considered taking it up again here but you haven’t been (or seen) the gym yet.
The corridors of Gibraltar were fairly quiet today. Since you’d woken up this morning you found it was eerily quiet compared to the usual chaos that rouses in the mornings. You chopped it up to people being out on the field. Yesterday you’d seen multiple Orcas leaving the base around noon, they’re probably well out into another country now and assisting in the ongoing war just beyond the horizon. It still makes you sad to think about the war that was happening, but then again… you can’t exactly stop a war. It’s odd being around all these people who are quite literally known for fighting in the war, yet you’re not one of them. You suppose not everyone on the base is fighting. The cooks and janitors aren’t, but you’ve come to find even they’ve been trained to some degree. After all, they have to protect the base as well.
A sigh escapes past your lips when you come to a stop, rubbing your temples with one hand as you try to wipe away all the negative thoughts plaguing your mind. Constantly thinking about the war and god knows what else, was making your head hurt.
When you lifted your head to look ahead, a shadow caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It caused you to jerk your head towards it only to find the hallway corner was empty. Good god… were you beginning to imagine things now? An uneasy feeling settled into your gut as you continued onwards. It felt like you were being watched. Surely not. There were cameras at every corner, nook and cranny of this base. If they wanted to watch you all they had to do was tune into the live broadcast of the network monitors. Yet as you walked now… it felt as if someone was boring holes into the back of your head.
Even after you retrieved a small bag filled with drinks and snacks, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling eating away at the back of your mind. It was making your stomach continue to clench with discomfort as you slowly made your way down the various hallways Junkrat had led you just the day before. You came across a few familiar faces on the way there. One being Dustin who stopped to ask you how your day had been going. It was odd to come across someone who spoke to you so casually. Sure, you saw the other agents as friends too… but even when you spoke to them you always felt as if there was some sort of barrier preventing you from getting close. The recruits who weren’t a part of the main team never made you feel that way. After a brief chat you excused yourself, explaining you had plans today, and moved onward. He gave a little wave with his goodbye before parting in the opposite direction.
A few more sharp turns and almost one wrong one, you made it to the stairs that you’d struggled to go down (and up) yesterday. Today was no different. You took each step carefully, bracing yourself to the wall for support while you clenched the bag of goods to your side for protection. It took five full minutes to reach the bottom of two flights of stairs. You felt a little useless once you reached the bottom, giving a sigh in defeat now that you were reminded of your daily struggles.
‘Soon.’ You reminded yourself, ‘New legs soon.’ Hopefully Torbjörn will complete them soon. He said only one more week and they’d be completed. As a promise to no one other than yourself, you’d start exercising again once you got them. Angela had already recommended you do so anyway, but it’ll be easier once you’re stable on both feet.
Once you reached Junkrat’s room you gave a little knock to the door frame before stepping in. “Junkrat?” You asked cautiously, feeling a bit awkward simply walking in but the man didn’t exactly have a door to open for you. The room was open and no answer came, causing you to frown slightly as you cocked your head to look at his workbench to find it empty aside from his ‘great invention’ that was abandoned on the surface.
“Not here.” A rough, deep voice caught your attention and you turned to see a familiar mountain was sitting on the room’s couch. You’re not sure how you missed him upon entering. He was watching the news on TV, arms spread out over the sides of the couch with his feet propped up on what appeared to be a beaten-up storage crate. His figure alone took up almost the entire couch and left only a tiny bit of wiggle room on either side of him.
“Oh.” You weren’t sure what else to say at that, but it did leave you frowning. “Do you know when he’s going to be back? We were supposed to hang out today…” A part of you was irked he wasn’t here, but then again it was really early still. But wait, if it’s early then where the hell is he?
“Don’t know.” He grunted again, keeping his… er, eyes glued on the TV ahead with little to no interest in you.
For a long moment you stand there not knowing what to do and finally decide to step in further, hobbling over to the kitchen table where you set the bag of goodies down before pulling the drinks out from it. As you do so you feel as if you’re being watched again, but it’s not the same uncomfortable feeling as before. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Roadhog is watching, his head only slightly tilted towards you so that he can keep an eye on your movements. “Is it okay if I put the drinks in it?” He doesn’t give an answer, but you can tell he’s still watching your movements. For now you take his silence as an answer and move on, focusing on putting the drinks into the little minifridge you’d spotted yesterday. The damn thing is filled with just… just garbage. Stuff you can tell from just a glance isn’t safe for human consumption.
“...Do you two ever clean?” The question leaves your lips before you really get the chance to prevent it. You didn’t realise how rude that sounded until Roadhog gave a rather unhappy grunt that caused the hairs on your neck to stand in attention. “I mean, no offence or anything… but I’m pretty sure this pasta is mouldy…” You mumble awkwardly as you put away the cans of soda you’d brought into the already cramped minifridge.
It’s still quiet as you step away from the fridge. You’re unsure if you should leave and come back another time or maybe spend time with Roadhog, but you have a sneaking suspicion the man doesn’t want you around. “Okay, uhm, well I’ll just come back later when he’s here…” You’re awkward as you turn on your heel to head towards the door once again. Truthfully you don’t want to take the stairs back up alone, but there’s no point in you hanging around with someone who doesn’t seem to want your presence.
However, as you pass by the couch a large hand comes out to block your path. You stop, brows knitting together in confusion as you turn to see Roadhog is looking at you. “The stairs.” He grunts, causing your brows to now raise in surprise as if the man just read your mind. “Sit.”
With his hand pushing the small of your back, you stumble around the front of the couch to be roughly pulled down to sit in the small space left between Hog and the couch’s arm. You sit, setting your crutch down on the floor for now as you shuffle back to get comfortable. It’s quiet for a moment as you look ahead to see Roadhog is still watching the news play a video reel from the latest warfront in Paris. In the feed you manage to spot Mei among the people ushering civilians out of the city. You sigh, chewing at the inside of your mouth awkwardly as you look down to either hand on your lap. It’s so quiet. Junkrat would be talking your head off right now, but Roadhog is just so… quiet.
“Rat told me.” He suddenly grunts, causing you to jolt in surprise. “Can’t walk up steps without help?”
The way he speaks is odd, but so’s Junkrat’s mannerism. He has an accent too, but it’s nowhere as bad as Rat’s. His voice is muffled by the mask which you dare not to question, but you can still understand what he’s saying clearly given how deep and blunt his voice is. “Oh, yeah… sorta. It’s uh, kinda hard going up with only one foot.” You give a nervous chuckle as you glance down to your own prosthetic from the reminder. “I mean I don’t really need help or anything, it just takes me a while. Junkrat just forced me to accept his help. Didn’t even ask.” You snort at the memory, remembering how he just abruptly put his arm under yours without asking.
“He does that.” Roadhog gives a chuckle at that. It’s deep like his voice and causes his belly to bounce with every breath. As he calms he gives a low hum before speaking, “Don’t go up’em steps yourself. Get hurt that way; Don’t want that.”
“You don’t want me getting hurt going up the stairs?” You ask with a brow raised. When silence returns as an answer you slowly nod in understanding. “Oooh, you mean Rat doesn’t want that?”
“Yeah.” He nods, turning his head back to the TV before grabbing the remote to change the channel.
“Ah, gotcha.” It’s funny to think that Junkrat even spoke to Roadhog about you. “What else did he say about me?” It’s quiet for another moment and you finally go to look up at Roadhog, finding through the lens of his mask his eye is trained on you. It causes you to grin a little, oddly happy to see his attention is on you and not the television which is still on the news channel. “Is it something I’m not supposed to know?” You watch as his eye turns away to the screen ahead.
“Thinks you’re n’oddball.” He snorts before giving another shoulder-shaking chuckle, “He’s right.”
The comment takes you by surprise, “I’m an oddball!? Have you two looked in the damn mirror lately?” Despite how many warnings you’ve received from others about getting too close to the Junkers, you can’t help but feel attracted to either of them. Junkrat’s outgoing personality acts like a magnet and Roadhog’s more quiet demeanour somehow works too. “Calling me an oddball and you two look like you’ve just stepped off the set of Mad Max.” You shake your head at the picture only to think that it’s possible Roadhog might not know what Mad Max even is given the time period.
However, to your surprise, the man gives a sudden booming laugh that causes his shoulders to shake from the effort. It causes your smile to return full force as you begin to crack up yourself, falling into a giggle fit as you imagined the two of them in such a movie. Surely they’d be star characters.
“I don’t wanna hear anything about being weird or different from either of you two. You shake your head and smile when you see Roadhog is still laughing silently at your words. “I’m serious! Over here calling me weird when I’ve seen video of you two blowing up a bank.”
“Heh, s’a pretty sight.” He snorts, finally aiming the remote up to change the channel on the television off the news.
“What’s with you two thinking explosions are pretty?” As you ask you tilt your head slightly, leaning forward a bit to see if you could see if his eyes were looking at you anymore. They weren’t.
“Cause they are.” He grunts, “Haven’t seen’em?” His eye looks to you again as he waits for a response.
“I’ve seen them. Hell, I’ve literally been in the centre of one and I don’t really think they’re pretty per se.” The memory causes you to shake your head. “Not exactly too happy knowing my face is scarred from an explosive.”
“That’ll do it.” He snorts and goes quiet again, eyes looking back to the screen now that some sort of sitcom is playing.
You take that as your cue to go quiet too and lean back into the oddly comfortable couch to watch the show Roadhog put on for the two of you. It’s oddly similar to the ones you remember watching back when you were, well, you were alive then but before being in a coma. Except that some of the main characters are omnics and the show seems to have a lot more future themes to it. Now that you think about it you really haven’t seen many TV programs since you woke up, not even back at the Foundation. All you ever watched on the screens were world news or history programs to catch up on the latest stuff. You really didn’t know much about actual main-stream media.
Which is why you suddenly became interested in the show put on despite starting mid-episode and possibly mid-season. It was like your mind suddenly realised it hadn’t had a creative break in some time. You’ve been so focused on getting up to date and continuing some sort of work that you really hadn’t thought about relaxing. You supposed even people like Roadhog had to have some sort of day off, right? It makes you wonder if Mercy ever took a day off.
This time you don’t fall asleep during your time spent with Roadhog. You were far too lost in the show put on, now having caught up after asking a few questions to Roadhog who seemed to know the show well. At some point you’d begun leaning against the mass of a man, using him as an impromptu pillow to rest your head on while you massaged your leg stumps and thighs. The muscles there get sore frequently (especially with the prosthetic on) so you need to massage them out frequently. You supposed this was a good time to do it given you were watching TV and Roadhog didn’t seem fazed in the slightest by it. That’s probably due to Junkrat doing similar, if not the same, exact things.
You weren’t sure why, but Roadhog made you feel oddly comfortable. Just like Junkrat… but in his own, silent way. You felt like you weren’t being judged for any previous history you had. You weren’t sure if Roadhog knew of you or who you were or any of that, but you knew one thing- the man loved tea. He made himself a total of six cups during your time spent watching the show with him. Out of those six cups you’d been offered three and of course you took them. Partially out of not wanting to come off as rude for denying the offer, but partially after finding out just how delicious said tea was. Some sort of milk blend. It was a bit sweeter than you’d normally want, but hell it was a treat and a walking apocalypse was making it for you- you weren’t about to deny the man that.
At some point you became aware of sounds coming from the hallway beyond the door. Cursing followed by the sounds of metal bits clanking to the stone floor. It didn’t take too long to piece together the evidence and realise Junkrat was back. As you set your cup of tea down on the coffee table and go to reach for your crutch the man appears in the room, dropping a rather heavy looking box of scrap as dramatically as usual. “Goodness grief! Roadie, really could’ve used ya’help with that one mate, me back is killin’ me!” He groans and goes to stretch out his back before taking note of your presence in the room. There he stops and practically freezes in place, both brows raise in surprise and utter shock at the sight he’s witnessing.
You stop your own actions to look back at him at his sudden silence, seeing he’s staring on with wide eyes as if he’s just caught you doing something specifically naughty with his best mate. The look causes you to tilt your head, a confused look settling on your features as you grab your crutch and begin standing off the couch. When you do, a new familiar hand helps you by pressing to the small of your back as Roadhog helps you up when you wobble a bit from sitting too long. “Thanks.” You smile back to him and stand, rolling out your shoulders as you put weight down onto your crutch with a sigh. When you look back up, Rat is still staring at you like a deer in the headlights. “Why are you giving me that look?” You huff, finally beginning to feel uncomfortable as you begin to hobble over to where the man is standing.
Junkrat’s mouth falls shut as you step up to him. Still no answer as he blinks a few times at you before suddenly leaning down to wrap an arm around your shoulder. His other hand comes up to cup around his mouth to your ear where he whispered. “Whadya’ do? Bride’em? Drug’em? Poison?” He has the crazy eyes again and they just simply make you laugh at the absurdity.
Your hand comes up to bat him away playfully, “Why do you say that?”
Junkrat steps away from you quickly and begins to eye you up and down, circling around and squinting his eyes suspiciously as he hums. “Somethin’ aint right about you, sheila! What did’ya do to ol’Hog to make him think you’re safe?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Another laugh leaves you this time as you shoo him away from looking over you. “Cut it out! You’re the one who made me wait hours, I’ve been here since noon!"
He comes to an abrupt stop in front of you, once again looking like a deer in the headlights as he stares back. “You’ve been waitin’ on me?” He sounds… surprised? As if someone’s never done that for him before.
“Well yeah!” Your brows knit together in confusion at the incredulous look he’s giving. “What, did you want me to leave?”
“No! No no no no, nooo!” He quickly shakes his hands in front of you, preventing you from moving as if you were going to. “You are good, you can stay in me home as much as you’d like, sheila! My home is your home!” He’s smiling again, but it falters as he gives a confused look to Roadhog. “Well, uh, fifty percent of it.”
“Fifty percent?” You cock a brow. “Fifty percent of your home?”
He nods, “Ye! Exactly, you’ve got it.”
A little snort leaves you at that, “Junkrat, how the hell do I stay in fifty percent of someone’s home? And why fifty percent?”
“Well, you see mate, me and Roadie have this agreement n’all. Fifty-fifty deal. Half is mine, half is his.” He gestures his hands to Roadhog with a big grin. “Dunno if Roadie’s gonna give’ya his half!” Following his hand you look back at Roadhog to see the man give a careless shrug at the comment and while you think it means he doesn’t care, it apparently means far more given Junkrat gives an over-the-top gasp at it. “Whaaat? Roadie actually not carin’ that his property is being touched? You’ve really gotta tell me what you hit’em with, mate! I’ve just gotta get my hands on the stuff.”
“I didn’t ’hit him’ with anything!” Through a laugh you shake your head, “You are ridiculous, you know that right?” You look back to see Junkrat smiling at you happily and through the soot covering his cheeks, you can tell they’re slightly red. “Now come on, I brought the snacks and the drinks, you keep up your end of the deal. Show me this grand thing you’ve been working on. Did you finish it?”
With that Junkrat scrambles over to his workbench only after tracing back to grab the box of scrap he’d previously dumped on the floor. You follow and sit on the chair that was still left there from the previous night. In no time at all Junkrat is back to rambling about the device much like he did last night. It’s more completed than it was last night and you take note that one side seems to be painted. He explains he needed more scrap to finish it and when you open your mouth to comment on it, he suddenly sticks his hand to your lips to silence you. “And for your information I did ask permission!”
You snicker at that and turn your head away from his hand. “Look at you learning, proud of you.” The comment is joking but you have a sneaking suspicion he took it far more seriously than you’d ment given his eyes practically sparkle at that.
“I told’ya I’d ask!” He proclaims loudly, receiving an annoyed groan from Roadhog that causes him to jolt and lower his tone to repeat his words. “I told’ya I’d ask.” He grins and sets his bomb down to start rummaging through the box for more parts. “M’gonna finish it today, wish I could’ve given you a demonstration, mate.”
“It’s alright, I’d rather you not blow up the base.” You chuckle, “For now just tell me about it. I like listening to you talk.” A smile sticks to your lips as you glance to Roadhog who’s returned to the centre of the couch to give a heavy sigh. For his consideration you add onto your statement, “Maybe try not yelling about it constantly while you’re at it?” Junkrat gives you an eccentric giggle before asking you what snacks you brought.
Your day is spent with the Junkers and time goes by before you know it. When you did think about it now you honestly don’t remember the last time you properly took time to simply indulge in something you wanted to do. And not wanted as in a work-related want. You weren’t spending time helping Angela or Wisnton or even Torbjörn. You weren’t spending hours trying to figure out how to configure ARON. Nor were you spending time trying to catch up on the history of the continually changing world before you.
There weren’t any of those worries in your mind as you sat and chatted with Junkrat. Usually it was more listening than chatting, but still. Occasionally Roadhog would chime in, usually telling Rat to be quiet and if he wasn’t then he was asking you if you wanted anymore tea after your previous cup had gone cold. Of course you accepted his offer with an added ‘thank you’ before watching him walk over to the little makeshift kitchen the two had slapped together.
Eventually your time came to an end when your wrist beeped, catching your attention to your wrist to see it was Angela pinging you over the communicator to come to her office. You considered ignoring it, maybe saying you didn’t see the message, but then you spotted the time and found it was well into the evening. Dinner was about to end soon.
“Ah, I need to get going. Angela wants to see me.” You stated suddenly, feeling apologetic once you realise you’d interrupted Junkrat telling you about the finishing touches he was adding to the bomb. He gives you a little pout that causes you to snort. “I’ve been here all day gimme a break!” You chuckle, grabbing your crutch to stand and pop out your back with a groan. You hadn’t sat this long in a while.
“You gonna be back?” He stands too, following you towards the door where you stop to dust off your shorts once you’d noticed the soot covering them.
“I mean, probably not tonight it’s already late and I still need to call Alina.” You also still needed to grab Aron from Winston, you hoped the bot was doing alright.
Junkrat seems to falter at that as if he’s disappointed. “Tomorrow?”
When you look back at him, you come to find the look he’s giving is one you’ve seen before. A mixture of disappointment and hidden eagerness you find oddly cute. It makes a giggle leave you uncontrollably. “Sure. I’ll come back tomorrow, but you bring the snacks this time! And be here too! Or else I’ll spend all day with Roadhog instead.” As you two argue you begin walking down the hall to the dreaded stairs with Junkrat following right next to you.
There’s an audible gasp from Junkrat at that, “Oi! Everything’s fifty-fifty, remember? So hah! That won’t work.” He grins as if he’s won some sort of imaginary argument.
“Yeah yeah, sure.” You shake your head and turn your head to see Roadhog is now following either of you out in the hall. It causes your next remark to fall short as you take note of the big man. “You coming too, Hog?” The man huffs, shoulders shaking as he gives an unsure shrug. You’ve taken notice that he’s more quiet than before ever since Junkrat returned. You weren’t sure why, but you had a feeling it was because Junkrat talked enough to fill an auditorium.
“Dinner.” He finally grunts once you’ve stared at him long enough for an answer.
“Right, right.” You nod, “Maybe if I get away from Angela fast enough I can join you guys.”
“Not gonna eat in there, too many slags.” He grumbles, “We eat down’ere.”
“Oh.” Well that kind of sucks.
“We can eat in’ere one day!” Junkrat shrieks, “Not gonna kill us to be around a buncha’ boot lickers.”
You’re not sure what he means by that comment, but you can only assume he means the other agents. “It’s alright, Junkrat. Maybe tomorrow I’ll make plans to come eat down here with you guys then?” You smile at the thought and Junkrat seems to deflate when his idea is shot down so quickly.
“Alroight.” He huffs, accent breaking past his teeth as he crosses his arms with a grumble.
When the three of you make it to the stairs you prepare yourself with a sigh, tucking your crutch further into your armpit and go to look to Junkrat for help once again. It was useful yesterday and it won’t kill you to ask. However, before you even get a word out you feel Roadhog bump you with his hand. It causes you to jerk your head towards him and look to see he’s offering you his help. It’s an oddly heart-warming gesture from such a force to be reckoned with, but it makes you smile with ease nonetheless.
“Fifty-fifty.” He grunts.
Once again you’re left feeling a little lost by their odd vocabulary, but you’re not about to deny the help. “Thanks.” You put your hand in his and expect to be helped up the stairs, but that’s not what the mammoth had in mind. Instead Roadhog scoops you up into his arms with ease. The action shocks you and pulls a yelp from your lungs as you cling to him in a panic, brows raised in shock as he begins climbing the stairs whilst carrying you on only one of his arms. It’s quiet for a moment as you adjust to suddenly being picked up and once you do, you shoot a glare at the man. “Could’ve warned me, jackass.” Your cheeks feel hot as you scold him, a mixture of embarrassment flooding your features as you move your hand to rest on his shoulder.
As Junkrat stammers out in shock and frantically climbs the stairs on his own to keep up, Roadhog gives a hearty laugh that causes him to vibrate. You can feel his voice reverberating through you given the close quarters and it only makes the heat in your face spread to your ears. It had been a while since you’d been so close to someone, let alone be carried by someone. The last person to ever carry you in such a way was Aron back in the lab when he first recovered you. Now here you were being carried by Roadhog of all people. He did it so effortlessly too. As if you really weighed nothing to him.
In no time you two were at the top of the stairs where he set you down. You thanked him out of politeness again, taking notice that he only let go of you fully once you put weight down onto your crutch. There you stopped to watch Junkrat climb the last few steps himself, wheezing and coughing as if he’d just ran a marathon. To think that Roadhog was somehow more fit than Junkrat. Though, then again… Junkrat really was sticks and bones. “I’ll walk with ya’, sheila!” He proclaims with a smug grin as the two of you begin walking to the main hall.
You snicker, “Walk with me where?”
“To the doctor!” He raises a brow as if you were supposed to know that.
“I can walk myself, I appreciate the offer though.” You shake your head with a little laugh as you limp ahead of him to stand next to Roadhog. “Besides I don’t know how she’d feel seeing a walking bomb next to me.”
“You think that’s an insult, sheila? I take it as a compliment!” He steps faster to be on your other side, putting you right between the two Junkers as the three of you continue down the hall. He asks curiously, “Er, by the way… You good friends with the Doc of somethin?”
“With Angela?” You stop to think about it for a moment before shrugging. “I guess so? I dunno, don’t really think any of them fully trust me yet.” At that you notice Roadhog snickering lightly, “I guess that’s easy for you two to say?” When the light reflects off his lens you can see Roadhog’s eye is staring down at you again. “I don’t think I’d care if someone trusted me or not if I already had a reputation like you two do.” You shake your head, “Can’t believe I’m friends with criminals.”
Junkrat acts like he’s surprised and gives a loud gasp, “You tellin’ me yer’ not?”
“Do I really look like someone who’d do anything bad? I’ve got no legs for goodness sake. What type of criminal has no legs?” You hold up a hand to him right as you spot his mouth opening from the corner of your eye. “Don’t answer that.” That causes the man to give another cackling laugh as you shake your head. “Seriously though, how the hell did you two make it into Overwatch? Aren’t you both known for, y’know, being bad? Criminals and heroes aren’t supposed to get together.” You snicker at that thought.
“Hey don’t say it like that!” Junkrat whines, “I like to say we make a difference in style.” He gives another cackling laugh as he imagines one of his beautiful works of art. “Me’n the big one here are in it for the long run!”
You shake your head, “Ridiculous. To think two world criminals are Overwatch agents.”
“Hey, anyone can make a change, ya?” He snickers as you roll your eyes. “The whole world needs more heroes n’all, rouight?”
You snort, “You two don’t look like you’re making a whole bunch of changes.”
“What?! You speakin’ for yourself there, mate? I ain’t see you do nothin’ either.” He huffs, eyeing you suspiciously. “Wait, why’re you here then?” He cocks a brow. “Thought’cha said you weren’t n’agent or anythin’ like that?”
For a long moment you hesitate to answer. This answers your question on whether Junkrat knew your past or not. Obviously not. But now that you thought about it… you really didn’t want him knowing. Not yet at least. You like what you three had going. Telling him now might make things weird. “Uhm,” But then again… you didn’t want to lie to him. “I’m here for some medical trials. New prosthetics and all that...”
Your coverup seems to work as he gives a loud ‘oh’ at your reason. That quells the discomfort in your gut for merely a moment before you glance up to Roadhog. Through the lens of his mask you catch his eye staring down at you. It’s not like before. Not the curious look he was giving you before as if trying to figure out what you meant by whatever you said. This time it was a cold, calculated stare that seemed to bore straight through you. It caused a shiver to roll down your spine before you forcefully pulled your gaze away to look anywhere else.
Eventually you make it to the fork in the hallway where you part ways despite Junkrat asking once again if he could walk you there. He gives to your protest and you wave a hand to continue onwards without the duo. Now alone you’re suddenly well aware of the feeling. It’s somehow odd to not have both the Junkers next to you. Then again you did just spend the entirety of the day with the two, so that’s probably why.
A sigh leaves you at the thought. You hadn’t actually felt lonely in a while. You always had someone, or something (considering Aron), to talk to. Yet now you’re suddenly aware that you really didn’t have anyone close. The only people you considered to be close friends were Alina and Aron. Out of the two of them one was a core obligated to keep you company and the other was your doctor who was also partially obligated, but now she’s at a distance so you can’t really say she’s close anymore. If not them, then you suppose Angela, Winston, or Torb… but even they were more of ‘work’ friends than close ones.
If not any of them, the Junkers were your only other ‘friends’ despite only just not meeting them.
Feeling confused and conflicted you attempt to hide the feelings from your face as you enter the medibay. It’s a quiet day already so it wasn’t a surprise to find most of the medibay was empty. You make your way directly to Angela’s office, shoulders falling with another deep breath as you attempt to shake away the stiffness from your figure. Out of politeness you knock on the doctor’s door first, waiting for a response this time unlike how you usually entered with no warning. It’s silent and there’s no answer so you try again, brows knitted together in confusion. Surely she wouldn’t call you here only to not actually be here.
After another moment without a response you press the panel button and open the door manually, poking your head in to find the doctor is standing there speaking to someone. Said someone is a man (or machine- you weren’t quite sure) who is standing there with her. Despite not being able to see his face you’re able to tell he’s tense from his stance. He looks on edge, ready to strike at any moment and is keeping his face towards you now that you’ve made yourself known.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt!” You stammer the words out nervously, eyes locked on Genji as the man steps past Angela and right past you. As he does he purposely bumps your shoulder, causing you to whip your head around to watch him as he leaves silently.
Anegla looks defeated as she watches him too before giving a sigh, “It’s quite alright. Come in.” Being invited you step in and the door shuts behind you. “I wanted to do a quick check-up given our last one was quite some time ago.” Her voice is more serious than it normally is and you take it that her demeanour about the whole situation has changed.
It makes you feel nervous for once. You’ve never felt nervous around Angela until now; not even when you first met. “Oh, alright yeah we can do that.” A part of you wants to ask why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, but you suppose she’s a busy woman with a schedule. You sit across from her once she does, letting out a breath as she seems to be focused on her holoscreen. It’s quiet. She’s not saying anything which is unusual to her. Usually she gives some friendly chit-chat while she prepares for whatever exam she was conducting. “Is it a physical ooor?”
“We’re going to be doing a psychiatric exam. I’m going to be asking some questions while measuring the activity in your AFA. Please answer all questions accurately and honestly.” Her tone is still serious, almost demanding as the holoscreen changes to show a live scan of the AFA. As she begins to explain the terms and conditions of the exam, you fall silent as you look at the screen to watch as the activity in the core fluctuates with every deep breath you take. She explains that all questions asked have patient confidentiality and that the information is for her own personal records of your case. “Tell me when you are ready.”
“Okay.” Your jaw feels tense. It’s obvious this test was only going to be done due to the conference Angela was in last night. Otherwise they would’ve done this type of test way back when you first arrived on base. “I’m ready.” The first few questions are basic to test and ensure the scanner is working properly. What your name was, birthday, where you grew up, etc. As you answer each question honestly… you begin to piece together that this is a lie detector test. It makes your gut clench with unease.
She takes a deep breath while typing up your answers and results on a private screen. “When you first woke from your coma, you had no memories of the time between your surgery and waking. Correct?”
The question causes you to falter. “When I first woke up, no.” You shake your head, swallowing down the nervous lump beginning to form in your throat as you think over the memories you did recover. Most of them were flashes of the surgery room while you were still awake. Many of the memories came to you during nightmares and were too blurry to truly recall.
She eyes you as she types in your answer, “Do you now in the present day remember anything from the time you went in for surgery and when you woke in the cryopod?”
“Y-Yes I remember some things, but they’re too blurry to remember.” You swallow again, looking off to the side as sweat begins to form on your brow. “I get nightmares frequently over them.”
“Hm.” She nods, “What is your relation to Dr. Howser?”
You fall silent again and are dead still as you stare back at her. The questions were making you uncomfortable and the activity in your AFA was beginning to rise. “Angela, I don’t understand why you’re asking me all these questions now after I’ve already told-”
“Please answer the question.” She states bluntly.
You falter and take a deep breath, “I was promised my medical condition would be cured under the doctor. I was eventually told the truth was that I was to be a lab rat for his experiments.” As she types in your answer you give a huff. “I’m confused what’s all of this abou-”
“What is your relation to Talon Operative?” She says.
The question makes your core’s activity spike more out of fear than anything. She can’t be serious. They don’t seriously think you’re a Talon member. “I have no relation to the-”
“Have you ever had the intention to harm or kill a member or agent of Overwatch?” Her tone is still harsh as she glares at you.
You stammer to defend yourself at the accusation, “What? No, I’d never harm anyone!”
Angela stops for a moment and pauses before looking at you. The look in her eye is cold as if you’ve been the one lying to her. It causes you to call silent and draw back any sort of challenge you had attempted. She chews at the inside of her cheek for a moment before asking in an almost threatening manner, “Did you overhear any conversation from a private meeting?”
In a second the activity in the AFA spikes as your blood runs cold. “What?”
She glares at you, “Did you eavesdrop in on a private meeting last night?” Her tone is more demanding once again, sounding similar to last night in the same angry tone you’d overheard her snap at the others with.
You can’t lie. The answer is right there on the screen and in your face as you lower your gaze to the floor. “...Yes. I did.” With that Angela slumps down in her seat and hits a button on the desk, causing the holo screens to close. The room is now dark without the light from the screens, but you’re still able to see her facial features in the dim lighting. She looks… defeated?
“I know.” It’s silent for a long moment as the doctor frowns. “I’m sorry you had to overhear such things.”
Somehow you feel as if you were talking to the real Angela once again. Her demeanour has changed again, far more relaxed than before and no longer angry. She seems more like a disappointed parent than anything. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping.” You admit solemnly. “I didn’t mean to. I just happened to be walking by and overheard arguing so I stopped to see what was happening.”
“It’s fine. It was Roadhog’s fault for leaving the door open.” She bites down on her tongue as she sighs through her nose. “How much did you hear of it?”
Now that the tone has changed you feel able to relax a bit more now, but a part of you is still on edge. After all- she’s suspicious of you like the others are. “A good bit. I already knew most of what you were talking about.”
“Then in that case you know that Genji is keeping watch of you, yes?” She asks calmly.
“Y-Yes, I do.” You nod, “I always knew you all were keeping an eye on me from the start.”
“Right.” She stops to fold her arms and put her forehead down to the desk on top of them. For once the doctor looks exhausted. It’s obvious she’d been working all day, possibly on your case, and you surely weren’t helping any of it by acting so suspiciously.
It’s quiet in the small office between you two, but you’re not sure what to say for a long minute. The doctor before you is still resting her head down on her arms in defeat. “What’s it going to take?” You finally ask the question and it causes her to lift her head. “For you all to trust me, what’s it going to take?”
She falters and opens her mouth to say something before stopping herself with a sigh, “I do not know.”
“We’re getting nowhere.” You say rather bluntly, causing her to sit upright in her seat to listen. “All we’re doing is walking in circles and I’m stuck in limbo because no one can decide if they trust me or not.” You frown, “I know you and Winston trust me, so does Torb and a handful of others, but the people that matter don’t. You all can trust two world-wanted criminals on the team, but I’m not trustworthy?” When she opens her mouth to speak you hold out your hand to stop her.
“Listen to me.” With a deep breath you swallow down the nervous lump in your throat.Your thoughts flicker back to the last conversation you had with Winston where you’d snapped at him over the same thing. “I’m tired of being tossed from side to side. I’m not getting a say in anything and all I keep hearing is that whoever doesn’t trust me for whatever reason. I want to prove myself. I should get a choice in what I want to do. If I can’t leave the base and live on my own then I should get a choice in what I want to do here.”
Angela is taken aback by your sudden determination, but nods in agreement anyway. “Yes you’re right. It’s unfair for us to hold you back from accomplishing whatever it is you want to do.”
Your throat feels tight as an idea comes to mind. “I’m no soldier Mercy, but I want to help. If I’m going to be stuck with this thing inside me for the rest of my life,” You stop to gesture to your chest. “Then I want to make a difference while I can.”
The doctor’s brow cocks in confusion as she tries to piece together what you’re saying, “What do you mean by that?”
“I want to be an agent.” You declare sternly. When she speaks again you cut her off, “I’m not backing down on this. I can be of use. Winston even said so himself. My core can charge more weapons, batteries, ships- whatever, than any type of accelerator he’s built. Even if I’m not directly on the field, I can still help somewhere.”
Angela stares at you in shock for a long moment before shaking her head. “I-It’s more than that. You will need to train and take class-”
“I can do it.” You nodded, “Once I get my legs I can do it. Torb said it’s only one more week until I get them.” There’s a strong feeling beginning to rise in your chest as you stare at Angela with a new fire in your eyes. “Let me. What else am I living for if I’m just going to be a waste of space. I want to do something, Angela. If I can put the AFA to use like Winston says, then I’ll be able to make a difference.” You frown as she looks up to you with a conflicted expression.
The doctor stares back for a long moment as she thinks it over before shaking her head. “It’s going to be a hard journey.”
“I survived a plane crash and hiked through a snow covered forest before defending myself and Aron.” You say it with such a feat that her eyes go wide as she stares back. “If I can do all of that with just one leg, imagine what I can do with two.”
Notes:
(′ꈍヮꈍ‵) Thank you so much for reading! Love you all~
Chapter Text
“If you don’t mind me asking D-6, what made you make such a brash decision?”
The bot on the desk gives you a cold and cynical question as his eye light follows your movements in the room. After having returned from repairs, Aron now has his new body. It’s odd to see him with his new unit. He’s now able to hover and fly around much similarly to the observation drones you see Athena using around base. Overall he’s more triangular now and his flat plate has been replaced finally, ditching the old cracked one for a smaller more updated one. For now he rests on your desk, watching as you continue to fill out the stack of paperwork handed over to you by Angela.
“It’s an uncalculated decision I would not expect from you.” His eye light blinks as he swivels to look at the documents you were still signing.
“I don’t know.” To be fair, you really don’t. It was an impulsive decision. “I think… I think this is the only way I’m going to be able to prove myself.” Your brows twitch as you think back to the conversation you had with Winston.
The bot gives a metallic hum as his antenna rotate. “This seems like a drastic way to prove oneself.”
“I don’t have any other choice.” You stop writing to look at the bot directly now. “Besides, if I’m going to be surrounded by a bunch of agents constantly telling me about the ongoing war that I’m currently doing nothing to help, surely I can start helping now.” The statement causes you to bite down on your tongue when you think. This is a drastic change, but you’ve already made your mind up on the situation. “If they can accept a gorilla, a time traveller, and two criminals onto their team then surely I can be of some use.” You begin filling in the information once again and Aron seems to fall silent to your words.
“This is quite the leap.” He states quietly after a few moments.
“It’s one I’m willing to take.” You retort with a huff.
His faceplate shifts to look like a question mark, “Is there something specifically that made you change your mind?”
Once asked you stop again, remembering the various conversations you had with numerous agents of the team. Alina always said you had the spirit in you. People don’t just wake up one day and adjust to their new lives in the blink of an eye. Winston said you could be an asset. Torbjörn thinks you’re useful in the workshop. Cole, albeit out of spite, said you had a good shot. And for some reason being around the Junkers made you feel as if you could make a difference despite your reputation. “It was… a few different things.” You say slowly and give a small sigh. “I’m never going to go back to a civilian life.” When you look at Aron you find his eye is trained on you curiously. “Or even be able to, for that fact.”
You swallow down the lump in your throat as you look down at the forums you’d been filling out to enrol into the program. Thinking back on all of it now, you supposed this is the purpose you were built for. The original intentions for your design. “I was made into a weapon, Aron.” You say carefully, bringing your free hand up and placing it to your chest carefully to feel the AFA’s heat residing off of it. “I can either mope around all day and be sad for my condition, or make use of what I’ve been given.”
He seems to understand your reasoning and gives another hum. “I understand.”
With a little smile you give a nod back before continuing to write. “Besides, Dr. Howser is still out there.” Your brow twitches at the idea of such a person being able to run rampant elsewhere. “He… He made me what I am today. If I can stop him from doing the same to others then I think I deserve a chance.”
“Dr. Howser was last known to be working among the Talon organisation.” Aron says simply.
“Exactly.” You nod, “Imagine what he’s doing out there now. It’s possible he’s performing some sick experiment on someone else right now.” The thought makes your blood boil and causes you to sigh in an attempt to quell the feeling. “I want to do everything in my power to stop him. I don’t care if it’s just out of some sort of petty revenge thing I have going for myself, but I feel it’s justified for me to say that. Is it not?”
The bot’s eye blinks again before answering, “I think it’s justified.”
It’s already been a few days since your talk with Angela. After the initial discussion you were called to a meeting between her, Winston, and Ana. The three had sat you down to talk about your decision, wanting to ensure you understood what becoming an agent meant. There was a lot of back and forth between the trio. Angela was still unsure of the entirety of the situation, Winston seemed a little standoffish but willing to help, and Ana was all for the idea. Apparently a few of the other agents were supposed to attend the meeting as well, but you didn’t see any of them. Ana had cursed under her breath about someone not showing up as they’re supposed to. You have a sneaking suspicion it’s the other main team members, more specifically Soldier and Cole.
Reinhardt and Torbjörn show some time later in the meeting and apologise for their lateness. You finally get to meet the brutish man formally. Reinhardt is far, far less brutish than he actually is. He’s actually quite charming and sincere in his words. He seems excited at the prospect of you joining the team much to Angela’s annoyance as the doctor is still persisting you change your mind on the whole idea.
You were still determined and it shows in your face throughout the entirety of the meeting.
You weren’t going to back down from this. Angela knows by now and eventually gives in to supporting your decision by helping make you a workout regimen. On the other hand the meeting aims at finding the best position for your role in the group. Winston weighs in that you should be kept close to the main team, more specifically himself, so that close watch can be kept on the AFA at all times. However Ana butts in quickly, “Negative. She should be kept out of the lime-light.” The others turn to her as the woman finally speaks up after much discussion without input. “Her case isn’t well known outside of the confines of the agents retaining to the Foundation and by agents of Overwatch.”
The others seem to nod in agreement. “Most of the agents here still do not know of her background.” Winston adds with a hum.
“I agree. We should keep her identity hidden.” Angela agrees. “The AFA itself is already an anomaly. If people were to find out its whereabouts, in a person nonetheless, it may cause backlash among the community supporters.”
You listen in to each of their takes on the situation before finally adding to the discussion yourself. “I think Ana’s right.” Their attention turns to you now and you give a firm nod. “Putting myself on the frontline won’t do any good. Especially since Dr. Howser is working with Talon forces. There’s a chance I’ll be recognised and who knows what’ll come of that.” You smile at their thoughtful expressions and feel as if you’re finally being recognised for your input. “I’d like to stay in the backline, if possible, with regular checks to Winston to assure the AFA stays regulated. Torbjörn has already made plans for my prosthetics to act as conductors for my energy output. As long as everything works properly I should be fine, right?”
“It’ll work fine!” Torbjörn says proudly, “Better than fine in fact!”
You snicker at that, “Good. Then we shouldn’t worry about whether or not my core will have issues. For now I would like to focus on my combat training so that I’m better equipped for anything to come.”
The group seems happy at that, all giving nods of agreement before they move on to speak on the other tasks you’ll be given in the meantime. For now you’ll focus on your training with the possibility of being put on the field in case of an emergency. As Winston said before, the AFA could come in handy in a time of emergency. You were already writing down a list of ‘possible’ things you wanted to use your own core for. Some of the items being charging batteries, jump starting a car or Orca, and charging the tactical suits. Winston was on board with all of your experiments and was actually the one who encouraged you to begin testing your abilities.
As the meeting ended you thanked everyone personally for their time and began making your way out before a hand on your shoulder caught your attention. When you turned a short, older woman was standing there with a humble smile. “Walk with me.” Ana nodded her head down the hall and you wasted no time agreeing, not wanting to deny the old commander of an order. So you followed her and let the silence creep in as the two of you walked, departing from the group and down the halls of the base. You felt awkward letting the silence go on for so long, but you felt it was right to let her speak first. Eventually she did once you two were out of earshot from the main team and now standing on the seaside overlook.
“Even I wasn’t expecting such a bold decision.” She starts slow and judging by her expression you feel she seems concerned. “I know I said you were optimistic before, so maybe this is right in your character.”
You weren’t really sure if you were to take that as a compliment or insult, but either way you nod. “I know it’s sudden, trust me I know.” An awkward laugh leaves you as you attempt to shake away the discomfort eating away at the back of your mind. Ana was an intimidating person with a lot of weight to any of her words. Had she disagreed with your proposal of becoming an agent the entire team probably would’ve agreed. “I want to do something. Me sitting around here doing nothing all the time while everyone else goes out in the fight seems unfair.” You frown, remembering the numerous people back at the Foundation who left only to never return. “My condition may be complicated- and quite frankly dangerous,” You nod at your own words. “But I can still use it to my own advantage.” When the old soldier gives you a look you quickly clarify. “The AFA, I mean. If we can just learn how to condense the energy output I could learn how to control it.”
It’s quiet for a second as you recall the numerous talks you’ve had with Winston over the device. He compared his own gun multiple times, explaining a similar device could be made for you to charge and condense the energy before expelling it. “I know I really haven’t done anything to help by case when it comes to the team’s view of me.” Your words seem to surprise Ana as her brow raises. “I’m not exactly the best when it comes to keeping it cool, if you get me. I’ve already had multiple outbursts and argued with both Angela and Winston over things-” A little laugh leaves you at your next words, “-and now I’ve befriended the two criminals on the team.”
“Ah.” She shakes her head. “Don’t fret. We have all done questionable legal things, don’t think those two rascals are any different than us.”
“I think they’re far different.” You smile, “No offence to you or anything of course… The two of them are a bit crazy.”
“Yes I suppose they are.” She nods, “I wouldn’t exactly suggest you pursue on friendly terms with the two of them given their track record…” Her words fade off as she thinks before she puts a hand up to prevent you from speaking. “However, you may just be a good influence on them.” It’s your turn to be surprised now as Ana grins smugly at her statement. “I heard you already got one of them to stop stealing from a certain old man?”
When you realise she’s speaking about Junkrat taking from Torbjörn’s workshop it causes you to let out a loud laugh. “Oh good so he was telling the truth!” You roll your eyes at that. “I don’t think I’m that good of an influence on them. I just think many people on the base are scared to tell them no.”
She cocks a brow again, “Are you not?”
You stop again, falling silent as you think back on the little amount of time you’d spent with the two Junkers. The rumours around base are true. They are crazy, Junkrat’s a maniac and Roadhog is definitely no better- maybe even scarier given the silence, and given you’ve already seen the news reports and video feed of their deeds in the world prior to Overwatch you can definitely say they’re reckless villains. But, yet, when you think about it now… you haven’t felt scared around either of them. “No, I’m not.” You answer firmly with a soft smile.
She stares at you for a long moment before asking solemnly, “Do you trust them?”
“I think so.” You hum, “Yeah they’re reckless maniacs who definitely need to be locked up- but they’re still people, murderers or not.” As you say so your mind reels back to the moment you took down the Talon soldiers back at the van. You never truly considered yourself a murder before, not even now. It was in self defence… but Junkrat and Roadhog have killed people out of carelessness, not self defence. Yet, you can’t find it in yourself to hate them for that. You think there are a few people you’d kill too if you got the chance. You felt that you related to them well.
“Hm.” It’s all Ana says in return to your answer as she looks away to the sea in thought. It’s hard to tell what she’s thinking. Her facial expression is neutral and she makes no movements in her body to tell you if she’s uncomfortable or relaxed. “Well then.” Finally she grins and turns away, “I suppose I’ll take your word then.” She gives a little chuckle as she begins walking away. “I can’t promise to bail you out of trouble you’ll get into.”
“Bail me out of trouble?” As she leaves you watch her for a moment as you try to wrap your head around what she means by that. But alas, she’s gone before you find an answer. With a sigh you step away from the sea view yourself and begin to walk back only into the main part of the base. Your head is still trying to wrap itself around today’s events, still wondering if they truly trust you or not. This all may be some sort of test to see how you act. You’re not sure. Either way you’ve made up your mind. If they trust you or not, you plan to be the best version of yourself no matter what.
“Oooi!” A loud voice catches your attention and you look over your shoulder to find Junkrat scurrying down the hall to catch up to you. His presence comes as a surprise, but a welcomed one that leaves you smiling as he catches up to your side. “What you doin’ talkin’ to all the big-wigs?” He raises a brow suspiciously, “You’re not snitchin’ are’ya, sheila?” He leans over you, one eye somehow larger than the other as he watches your face for any trace of deceit.
You snicker and swat your hand at him, “Stop it! No I’m not. Unless you have done something bad I should know of?” The smile stays as he gives a shocked gasp before exclaiming that he would never do such a thing as if he hasn't already. You both know damn well the things he's already done. “Good. I better not hear anything from Torb about you taking anything without asking.”
He huffs, pouting childishly as he mocks you under his breath before nodding. “Yeah, yeah! I get it. No takin’ without asking n’all that.” He shakes his head, “Now answer me question! Were they holding you hostage, sheila? Do I need to stick it to’em?”
“No it’s fine, Junkrat. We were just having a meeting about-” You stop, hesitating whether you should tell Junkrat the truth or not. He seems to pick up on your predicament and only stares more suspiciously as he waits for you to share. “My residency here.” You say carefully, leaving anything about the AFA out for discussion for now. “I’m going to become an agent.”
That seems to spark something in the man as he hoots and hollers like he’d just won the damn lottery. He even bounces on his one good foot as the two of you continue down the hall towards the cafeteria. “Alroight, that’s what I’m talkin’bout! Me’n you, on the field with ol’Hog blowin’ up the goods!?” He gives his usual eccentric giggle as he wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. “I can see it now! It’s gonna be beautiful!”
His attitude on you becoming an agent is far more positive than you expected, but then again you truly weren’t sure what else you were expecting. “Alright, alright enough.” You shake your head and shrug his arm off your shoulder gently. “I’m not doing any field work yet. The plan for now is legs first, then training, and then maybe I’ll be put on the field. There’s no guarantee yet.”
He visibly deflates at that and gives a whine, “Fiiiine. Fine.” Though at the mention of your legs he swings down to tap at your remaining prosthetic. “Ye’ getting new ones? How’bout you give your old friend Rat your old one then, mate? I’ll give ya’ a tenner for it, eh?”
You shoo him away from your one good leg with a snort, “Absolutely not. I’m gonna keep it as a backup once I let Winston repair it.” As Junkrat pulls away with a grumble you snicker at his reaction, noting that your own laugh seems to brighten him up in mere seconds. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked Torb for a new leg yourself.”
“Like hell I am!” He grimaces, “I ain’t asking that bloke for nothin’! Already given me a hard time for some damn scrap while he fiddles away with those damn bots all day. He ain’t using the stuff anyway!”
“I think you’re taking it too personal.” You shake your head at that and huff before looking ahead to see Aron is gliding down the hall. The bot stops upon seeing your presence and waits for you to get to the hall end before approaching. You hobble ahead of Junkrat to meet the bot with a smile, happy to see he’s using his new drone unit to get around base. Winston had mentioned he was already moving around well and communicating with Athena to assist those around base. “I’m glad to see you’re getting around.” Your smile sticks as his eye light comes to the screen to keep track of your movements.
“Good to see you are doing the same.” He says with synthetic mirth as his light looks past you to see the Junker behind you glaring at him. “Good evening.”
“Get outta here you damn droid!” Junkrat snaps, crossing his arms over his chest as his features settle into that of disgust upon seeing the bot. “Useless hunk of nuts n’bolts...” He mutters under his breath, sneering as Aron swivels around to be closer to you.
The reaction causes you to frown and grow defensive of your robotic friend. To be fair, you’d completely forgotten about Junkrat’s disliking for anything robotic. The topic didn’t come up that frequently, but you’d overheard his comments on Bastion a few times in the workshop. “Cut it out.” You swing your crutch out at him to hit him in his good leg, causing him to jump back in surprise. “Aron’s my friend.”
“Your friends with one of these damn things!?” His brows raise in shock, “Tell me your lying, sheila!” His arms unfold as he points to the bot in shock, looking utterly distraught at the news.
“Yes, we’re friends. And no, I’m not.” You stand your ground and look stern as Junkrat is visibly confused by your words. “I’m not about to stand here and have you bad mouth him.” Now that you think about it… how would Junkrat react knowing you were a cyborg yourself? You define as one given all of your organs are running on the AFA’s power core. You’re also receiving two prosthetic, updated legs unlike Junkrat’s scrapped monstrosity. The man’s not the brightest and from what you’ve already gathered, he doesn’t know anything about your past aside from what you told him- which isn’t much.
“I can’t believe it! Just when I thought I found one of me kind, I'm being stabbed in the back!” He shouts, glaring at the drone bot once again and pointing a finger at him in accusation. “Whad’ya do to her, robot?” Even when he tries to be serious he comes off goofy as hell.
With a sigh you smack Junkrat’s hand away from Aron and step past him. “Nothing. Aron’s my friend and has been with me for a long time.” It’s your turn to shoot a glare back at Junkrat who stammers over his words, shocked and surprised to see you defending the omnic. “Let’s go.” You turn to instead smile at the bot who hovers ahead, keeping his faceplate facing towards you as you leave Junkrat behind for now. It makes your chest hurt to think Junkrat wouldn’t accept Aron and possibly yourself, but there’s nothing you can do about that. If he can’t get over himself and be on good terms with Aron, then you simply will have to accept that the two of you can’t be friends.
After a bit of walking in silence, Aron finally speaks and breaks you from your thoughts. “You seem disturbed.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.. I guess am a bit.” You admit with a sigh. “I forgot Junkrat doesn’t like any type of technology, even though he uses it daily without realising it…” You mutter the words under your breath and roll your eyes. God forbid the man realise Roadhog’s coffee maker is electronic. “He doesn’t know about me, if you catch my drift.” The bot seems to process your words for a moment before humming out that he understands. “Who knows how he’ll react knowing I’m one step away from being an omnic myself.” You chuckle at the thought and shake your head. “Ridiculous.”
“Well, maybe you could still befriend him despite the current predicament. You seem to enjoy his company.” Aron states simply. “I’d hate for you to lose a friend for my sake.”
“It’s not just your sake, Aron.” You smile, reaching up to cup the omnic’s face with a little grin of your own. “I’m not going to put up with any of that bigoted behavior. You remember the people at the Foundation who thought the same way.” You knew there were a few people here at Overwatch, aside from the Junkers, who thought the same way. There’s no way you’d be able to get along with them considering one of your closest friends is an omnic and you, yourself, are a cyborg. It’s still weird to think of yourself as one. “If he wants to stay friends then he’ll have to learn to get over himself. I have no problem dropping someone.”
“But you do.” The bot hums, “It makes you sad, no?”
You stop for a moment and stare at Aron before giving a defeated sigh. “Yeah. It does.”
Moving on from the topic you force the bot to drop it and instead ask him how his day was. As the two of you walk to the cafeteria, you listen in as Aron explains his day very matter-of-factly before describing how much he’s enjoying his new body. It pleases you to see the bot finally has some mobility and that he also seems to enjoy helping others around base, not just yourself anymore. Though in the back of your mind you’re still stuck on Junkrat, unable to shake away the uneasy feeling in your gut at the man’s attitude.
“Can you believe it, mate?!” A squealing voice fills the room along with the rattling and clattering of parts being thrown around an already messed workbench. The owner of these squealing sounds is throwing a tantrum as he rummages through the crowded bins for god knows what. “Over’ere fancying those damn bots like she’s one of’em!” He shouts, scoffing at the news he spouts off to his best mate who seems uninterested from where he sits on the couch. When there’s no reply to his nonsense, Junkrat whips his head around to his companion to await an answer that simply doesn’t come. “Well?” He huffs, “Say somethin’ you useless grease stain!” In his fit of rage he takes his answer out on the other.
Roadhog, by now, is used to the scrawny man’s remarks and gives a long, exaggerated groan to his words. “Ugh, Shut it.”
“Huh!?” The other cocks a brow and drops the items in hand to eye the other suspiciously. From where he’s standing he can tell Roadhog is looking at him despite not actually facing him. The man makes no move, still reclining on the worn sofa where the TV is playing a repeat of an old film movie. Junkrat’s silent for a long moment himself, wondering why his best mate isn’t agreeing with him after he’d told the whole story (multiple times) about you and bot in the hall. Eventually through the silence he manages to piece together the question himself despite Roadhog never giving and input aside from telling him to be quiet. “Don’t tell me you knew she was friends with the scrap?” Spite is showing through his words as he stumbles over to Roadhog, pointing a finger at the man’s chest as he accuses him of high treason.
Roadhog tilts his head towards the rat and gives another throaty grunt, somehow sounding even more annoyed than he did before without saying a single word. Junkrat takes this as his answer and gives a loud gasp. “You did! Yooou traitor!” He shouts, grinding his teeth together hard enough to cause his jaw to clench from the pressure. “You knew and didn’t have the mind to tell me! What happened to fifty-fifty? This is important news- can’t believe you just let me rol’round with some half-wit like we were best pals!”
Roadhog scoffs, “Yer’ not? Seems like you two were gettin’ along fine.” To his amusement his partner’s face drops all anger and flushes red from being called out so easily. It causes the bulking male to give a low, deep chuckle from his expressions.
As Hog laughs, Junkrat stammers over his own words for a minute as he tries to fit together a proper comeback and ultimately falls short to instead poke fun at the other. “Like you’s any better! Lettin’ her come in’ere, sharing tea, and watchin’ the box like you two fancy each other on holiday!” He huffs, face and ears still hot as he thinks it over. “I ain’t ever seen ye’ making any tea for me! Where’s my tea?!”
Roadhog snickers, “Fifty-fifty.”
“Fifty-shmity! You like her and were usin’ it as an excuse to let some bot-lover get all nice n’cosy with us!” He stops to wait for a response and finds that Hog just shrugs in return much to his dismay. “Can’t believe it! A traitor in me own home!”
“Quit it.” Roadhog shrugs his shoulders before rolling them out to recline further on the couch. “You ain’t no better.”
Either of them fall silent as they stare at one another. Junkrat’s face is still red as he thinks back to the time you two spent together and Roadhog is questioning whether Rat will let it all slide for the sake of losing a friend or not. Eventually, Junkrat moves to sit on the couch next to the mountain. He squeezes himself into the small space there and, as usual, drops all of his weight onto Roadhog as he leans against him in defeat. Hog finds it entertaining and gives another low chuckle, patting Rat’s upper arm with one colossal hand before letting it rest there casually. Junkrat makes no move to push him away, instead leaning into the touch as he silently tries to figure out his own feelings. For once Hog is able to get a moment of silence to himself with his companion in the same room, a rare moment but a welcomed one for sure.
After a few long, drawn out moments of silence the smaller of the two finally speaks. “...Twenty-eighty?” He sounds almost nervous, tilting his head up to look at Hog who’s staring down at him through the lens of his mask. Hog huffs, but doesn’t say a word in return. That causes Junkrat to give a loud whine before asking instead, “Thirty-seventy?” No answer. “Thirty-five?” Nope, not that one either. “Forty-sixty?”
“Aughhh!” Junkrat gives a loud whine, dropping more dead weight onto his companion as he practically sinks into the couch in defeat. “Fine, fine, fine! Fifty-fifty! Ye’ always drivin’ me a hard bargain mate, how’ya do it anyway?”
Roadhog rolls his eyes beneath his mask and snorts, “Gotta put up with you.”
“Hmph.” Rat shoots the other a glare but doesn’t retort with a comeback this time, instead taking his gaze elsewhere to the ceiling where he tries to wrap his head around everything. “Damn bot-lover.” He mutters beneath his breath, “Why she gotta be one of’em?”
“Who cares.” Roadhog grunts, keeping his arm hanging loosely around Junkrat now that his attention turned back to the television.
“Who cares?! What you mean by that now?” He shoots another glare at the man, “Can’t believe you’d even say that, mate! Why ye’ even like’er anyway if you knew all this secret information?! Did ya’ squeeze it outta her when I wasn’t here? You give her the hook!?” Junkrat’s eyeing the other suspiciously, squinting with one brow raised and the other low as he practically presses his face right up to Hog’s mask.
“Mhm-hm.” To give Junkrat the benefit of the doubt, Roadhog isn’t entirely indifferent. He’s not all for the ‘bot-lover’ title either, but, unlike Junkrat, he’s been to the meetings. It’s not that you were exactly keeping it a secret from either of them. Had Junkrat just gone to a single damn meeting he would’ve found out from day one of your arrival. Hell, not even go to the meetings he could’ve asked around to others. Damn near half the base knew of your ‘condition’. Though he hasn’t gotten to see it, or test it, himself- he was curious. Never did he think his curiosity would lead him to spending one on one time with you when Junkrat wasn’t there, but unlike Junkrat the majority of the time- your company was oddly enjoyable.
You being some sort of cyborg at first was a put-off. Like most of the blokes around here, he expected you to think above him and Rat, but he was surprised to find the latter. You took interest in them on your own. From the little time the three of you had spent together he could tell it merely by the way you acted when asking Junkrat all about his crazy inventions and whatever else he was doing. Like Rat, you were able to figure him out without him saying a damn word. But most of all, you didn't seem scared of them in the slightest. He noticed it the first time he ”properly” met you. You stuck your hand out and introduced yourself as if you were meeting the queen. He often thinks back to how soft your scarred hands were.
Notes:
I know this is a shorter chapter focusing more on Junkrat and Roadhog, but I hope it's still good!
Thank you all for reading! ♥ (ˆ◡ˆ)
Chapter Text
“Where you goin’ all fancy-like?” A familiar voice rings in your ear as the Junker bends down crooked to take a good look at you. His brow is cocked as he puts a hand to his chin as if he's a professional judge at a dog show.
Dressed in your newly acquired uniform you can’t exactly blame him for eyeing you curiously. The new fit included a form fitting shirt and cargo shorts. You weren’t all for the new uniform either, but it was required during the outdoor training sessions. “I already told you before, I’m starting my training. I’m going to be an agent, remember? Besides, I would hardly call it fancy. You only think that because you haven’t changed shorts once.”
“I have! Matter n’fact I wash these weekly!” Junkrat never exactly apologised for what he’d said to Aron, but you have a feeling he’s not going to simply because you asked to. However, it’s been a few days since that interaction and while Junkrat has come around during your meetings with Aron, he has yet to make any more remarks against the bot. If he has anything to say he’s doing a damn good job at keeping his mouth shut for once. Maybe snapping at him made him finally think before saying. Whatever it was, you were happy to say he’s been well-behaved these past few days. For what it’s worth Junkrat really does seem to be trying to accept Aron’s presence around you. He’s even tried striking a conversation with the omnic, albeit brief due to Aron’s cold and calculated responses. Though… you have a feeling Aron was doing it purposely to get out of talking to the Junker.
“...Please don’t tell me you only own one pair of shorts?” The conversation feels natural again. You’re truly not sure if Junkrat learned any lesson from the lashing you gave him or if he truly just didn’t care, but either way you were happy knowing there wasn’t any ’uncomfortable air’ between the two of you. The banter goes back and forth for a few moments before the two of you in the elevator go up. Junkrat seems to be looking over you again and he’s oddly quiet. You watch his eyes as he looks you up and down, brow still cocked suspiciously as he examines various parts of your figure before his mouth twitches as if he were about to speak.
He does. “What’s that?” His accent shows strong as he suddenly points to your arm with his metal hand. Your eyes follow his gesture to see he’s pointing to a few of the more noticeable veins right at the crease of your elbow. “You gotta tattoo or som’in?”
For some odd reason you feel uncomfortable having it pointed out to you. The glow from your veins has become such a normal part of your day it almost felt as if it were a tattoo. You barely even noticed them yourself anymore. The only times you did notice the glow was when you were taking a look at yourself nude in the mirror after a shower. Having Junkrat of all people point it out, however… it made an anxious knot churn in your gut. “Hm?” You bring your arm up to your own face to act as if you were inspecting it, even going as far as to rub the spot with your thumb. “No? I don't see anything?” You shrug and drop your arm, taking a moment of silent victory as the man gives a quiet ‘huh’ as he believes you.
Thanks to Junkrat’s short attention span, he moves on quickly. “What happened to yew’ getting new legs, sheila?” He taps your prosthetic with his own pegleg gently, grinning like a smug bastard as he snickers to himself. “Ol’Torb chicken out of his deal?”
You roll your eyes, “Leave that man alone already. No, he hasn’t. Just taking a few extra days since he’s out on a mission. I told him to take his time anyway, I’ll be fine for another week without legs. I’ve survived so far…” You sigh, not exactly happy with the news yourself. He left Tuesday night on an emergency repair out in Marseille. Right when you were supposed to be getting the new runners sometime next week. He didn’t exactly say how long he’d be gone but you were keeping high hope that it was a short trip.
“Chicken.” Junkrat states with a cackling laugh as he nudges you with his elbow playfully. You can’t help but laugh through another head shake. “Bet I could make ya’new ones in no time! Faster than he ever could!”
“Yeah probably, but I’d really like my legs to work.” Your comment has the man gasping in over exaggerated offence as you grin back. “And not made of stolen parts.”
“I don’t steal no more!” He huffs, “I promised ya’ and I keep me promises! Won’t find me breakin’ none of my deals, no siree!” Once again he begins to mutter nonsense as the doors open up and either of you exit the elevator to begin making your way towards the training platform. For now you weren’t going to be actively participating given legs were off the menu, but your lieutenant was adamant you join in the drills to get a start on the verbal commands and whatnot.
Junkrat continues to ramble on about how he could make you better legs than Torbjörn ever could and that he knew better given he’s lost a leg himself and that blah blah blah. You’ve grown used to tuning out the nonsense through the matter; this must be how Roadhog felt. Though as you approach the doors to the training ground you stop to look at him, trying to find a good place to butt in and say your goodbyes given he couldn’t join you in training. Well, he could, but everyone knows he’s not.
However for once the junker seems to take notice first and stops mid-sentence, looking to the glass doors and then back to you before putting his hand to his forehead. He leans back dramatically and gives a loud, “Oh!” As he shakes his head. “Roight, roight… you got yer’ training n’all that.” He nods and puts his hand back to his chin, rubbing it with his index finger as you smile back up at him amused. “How’s ‘bout you come ‘round later?” He has a big, toothy smile with his words, causing you once again to take note of the odd gold caps he had on a few teeth.
“Sure, downstairs to your lair?” You joke back and it accelerates a cackling laugh from the maniac as you shake your head. “Sorry, sorry, my mistake. You and Hog’s lair? Or should I call it a den since you guys are Hog n’Rat?”
He cocks a brow at that and gives a sound that you could only describe as thoughtful as he nods. “Yeah, guess you could call it that. S’more like a nest though, den’s are fer’ hogs! I made our nest though!” He seems proud of that. “Oh! Y’know what, sheila? We’ve gotta find somethin’ for you now, yeah?!”
His proposition causes you to raise a brow suspiciously. “Find something for me?”
“Yeah! Like, er, y’know a name? A nickname!” He’s got another big smile, obviously very excited at the prospect of giving you a nickname. “Roo! Like a kangaroo?!”
You snort, “God no. I’ve never even seen a kangaroo in person before.”
He cackles, “Oh-hoho, they’re mean! Fierce little buggas that’ll knock your knickers off!”
“Really don’t think that describes me.” You roll your eyes and shrug nonchalantly “If you want to give me a nickname just call me D-6. That’s what Aron always calls me.” After saying so you don’t realise the implications of that until they come back to bite you in the ass.
“D-6?” Confusion is written all over his features far too obviously. “Why’s he call ya’ that?”
You’re honestly more surprised he didn’t make a remark aimed at the omnic. “It’s uh, my file name. Y’know remember, I was here for some medical trials? Aron called me that when we first met and it became somewhat of a joke between us.” You shrug, trying to steer the conversation away from any more personal questions.
“Well I don’t like it! Doesn’t fit ye’ at all!” He gruffs. It’s possible he may not like the nickname simply because Aron proposed it, but you weren’t about to make any assumptions. “I’ll find ya’ something better! Something fitting. Classy but in a biting way, yeah…” He nods to himself at the thought
“Why do I need a nickname anyway?” As you ask the question you suddenly come to the realisation that Junkrat is a nickname. You don’t actually know the man’s real name. You’ve overheard Angela and Ana speaking using his last name before, but you don’t actually know his real name. “What is your real name anyway?” You ask suddenly, breaking the man’s stream of thoughts hard enough to make him look at you dead-panned for a second.
“Me name?” He grins and poses dramatically before announcing in a very loud, booming voice. “Jamison Fawkes!”
You stare back at him for a long moment before snickering quietly to yourself. It catches him off guard again and he stares back for a second before chuckling back as he stands slouched once again. “Jamison, huh? That wasn’t what I was expecting at all. It’s weird it took me this long to ask you.” You shake your head as he gasps. “I dunno, I expected something more, hm, flashy?” The reactions you're pulling from him are priceless as he stares jaw-dropped at your remarks as if you were insulting the queen.
After a moment you chuckle quietly and shake your head, “I like it though. Jamie does fit you… I guess Fawkes does too. Definitely has that lunatic ring to it. So maybe it is exactly what I was expecting.” You think on it for a second before looking back up to take note that his ears are red again. He’d gone quiet for once and you take that as your chance to take your leave. “Well, Mr. Fawkes, I’ll be going. I’ll see you later, okay?”
As you push open the door he stumbles over his words before declaring back boldly, “My place! Tonight!” The excitement in his voice causes you to snicker and shake your head before you look back over your shoulder at him. A smile is stuck to his features as he stands at the door to watch you hobble away to the training field. You have to admit silently to yourself and to no one else, that he's actually pretty cute.
So far training has been exactly what you expected it to be. While you can’t actively participate in some of the drills, you still do your best to participate as much as you can in your current condition. The first few days have been mostly general things. Your instructor, er, lieutenant wanted you to get comfortable with the basics before any sort of serious training occurred. Though you were getting tired of hearing the same set of commands over and over and over and over… it was draining. At least the other newbies accepted you with ease. They seemed to be excited to have another member on the squad. At least for now that is. There were only six other people in training, excluding yourself, and all were already set into specialised roles. Two technicians, three medics, and one investigation expert. You were pleasantly surprised by all of their roles, interested in learning from them and allowing each person to ramble on about their field.
When they asked what field you planned to fit into, you fell silent for a long moment and struggled for an answer. Winston had asked you the same thing prior, but you hadn’t really thought of anything yet. So you answered honestly, telling them for now you planned to finish basic training before you selected something specific. It had already been agreed upon that you would be taking a back-end role, meaning you’d stay out of the limelight of the team and somewhere doing the dark work (figuratively and literally). You’d already taken some interest in being a technician due to your time in Winston’s and Torb’s workshops… but you still weren’t sure.
Your days had fallen into a firm routine. Wake up, get ready, breakfast, basic training, lunch and break, then to the gym for some upper body workouts, shower and back to being free for the evening. Though most of your evenings were now taken up quickly by two familiarised men. Junkrat made it a point to invite you down to his shared ‘lair’ just about every day. Usually he’d catch you at breakfast and walk with you to the training site where he’d talk your head off about one thing or another. Then as the two of you would part ways he’d always remind you to come down once you’re free. It wasn’t even a question anymore, more a less a direct order as he scrambled off back to the elevator with no remorse. Not that you minded or anything.
Spending time in the lower decks with the junkers was fun and comforting. It definitely eased the stress of your now busy days. If you weren’t watching Junkrat tinker away at a new explosive, you were watching the telly with Roadhog (and occasionally Junkrat if he bothered). Most nights became a mixture of both starting with watching Junkrat until Roadhog showed up to plop down in his usual spot on the couch. It somehow became a wordless habit to join the man after the first time he grunted and asked if you wanted to continue watching a show with him. After that you would always leave the workbench to squeeze onto the sofa.
If you were extra lucky he’d silently offer you a few of his snacks. Whenever he ate, Roadhog would only ever pull his mask up just enough to expose his mouth. You’ve never seen his face nor will you ever ask to. You have a feeling asking so will cross whatever invisible wall there is between the two of you. Unlike Junkrat, Hog’s a very solitary person. He’s never given you any of his personal information or any background history. What you know of him has always come from either Junkrat, other Gibraltar residents, or from online. Junkrat was usually the one to spout off about their shared history. Only in those moments Hog would usually give some sort of throaty growl that would cause Junkrat to clam shut once he realised he’d said too much. You always sorta wished Rat would keep going, but you never asked for more. You didn’t want to dare test Roadhog’s patience.
“Well?” The Swede before you gives a cocky grin as he steps back, gesturing with a claw for you to stand and move. “How do they feel?”
Looking down now at your two new prosthetics feels unreal. Words cannot truly describe how they look or feel. The fit is comfortable, it’s almost as if they’re not even there. As for looks, they’re clean and extravagant. Each leg is white with black lining on the edges of the curved, symmetrical panels. You bring a hand down to feel over the edge that touches above your knees. They’re form fitting to the skin, creating a seal that keeps the metal joints locked in place. You’re at a loss for words as you feel over the smooth white of the synthetic fibre, wondering just how long Torbjörn had spent creating each one. If you hadn’t owed him before, you surely do now.
“Great.” The answer leaves you slowly as you take the moment to truly appreciate the work the team has put in for you. Angela with design and comfort, Winston for technicalities, and Torbjörn for overall build. Truly they’ve outdone themselves, but then again you suppose Angela has created multiple prosthetics before. This is probably easy work for her (and Torb). The engineer had ensured all requested aspects were included, mainly the addition of the energy coils built into the calves. The one addition Angela didn’t seem to approve of were the knives located in your new feet. Torbjörn had excitedly shown you them, explaining how to call and recall them and even rambled on about ways to stab someone with them. It all caused Angela to curse at him quietly, rolling her eyes and muttering something under her breath about the same thing happening with Genji. For now the main goal was simply to get comfortable with your new legs. The technicalities and more practical uses of your new equipment could be dealt with later.
“Come now, stand so we can see if we need to make any adjustments.” Angela states with a sweet smile as she offers a hand for help.
You take it and stand carefully, still unsure of yourself and subconsciously reaching for your crutch that’s not there. When you stand the world around you reels as you roll your shoulders out before balancing your weight evenly. It’s the first time you’ve been able to stand freely without support now that you’ve let go of the doctor’s hand, leaving you to look down at your new legs with wide eyes and raised brows. The three watching you are all smiles as you take a step forward, causing Angela to keep her arms extended in case you need any assistance. At her caution you finally grin back, “I think I’ve got it.” She still seems unsure as you take another step before swaying side to side curiously. You tap your feet on the ground one by one, shivering at the fact you could feel the ground beneath them. After all, your new equipment had sensors. Yet somehow it was more sensitive than you expected. Angela had stated before there would need to be adjustments to the sensors, but you hadn’t expected to be able to feel so much.
The hum of the drill coming from the workshop next door. The static buzzing of your own electric vibrations running through the energy coils. Even the deep breath Winston took. You could feel it all through your toes. It made your brows raise in surprise as you tested your new toes, spreading them to find you only had four. In a way… they actually looked more like paws. Even the angle of your calves was similar to that of a feline. You liked them though.
Winston chuckles as he watches in amazement at how quickly you took to your new runners. “I think the recovery time is going to be faster than we expected.”
“You can say that again.” You nod and take another step, amazed how natural they feel. Your old prosthetic had the same type of sensors that allowed you to bend the joints, but having two was somehow unnatural and natural at the same time. It felt right and wrong to be moving so easily, but you weren’t about to complain about that. “I think I just need to get used to the feeling and I’ll be set.”
“Well still, you need to take it easy.” Angela still seems unsure as she crosses her arms. “I trust in Torbjörn’s work to the fullest, but these things usually take some time to learn and adjust to. I would advise you to take it easy for the next week or so until you are comfortable to take more strenuous movements. It may be a serious stress on your recovery if you do not.”
“Screw that,” You laugh lightheartedly. “I’m about to go for a run.” The other two now look unsure themselves as you begin taking a brisk walk around the workshop. Your movements are somewhat uncoordinated and you stumble a few times, but you refuse their help when you grab onto the table a few times for assistance instead. After a few short laps around the table, however, Angela does make you stop to do a quick examination to assure all is well.
The examination Angela gives is longer than you want it to be. You reluctantly stand still for her, but you’re antsy. The thought of moving and running down the hall like some sort of kid on their birthday is right at the forefront of your mind. Now that you had mobility you were already picturing all the things you’d be able to do. Starting with taking the stairs up and down to the junker’s room. As much as you appreciate their help both ways, you always felt embarrassed when either of them would hold your arm to support you just in case. Roadhog usually wouldn’t even do that, he’d normally pick you right up and carry you down as if you weighed nothing. Which, to him, you didn’t.
Eventually the doctor gives a reluctant sigh when she finds no issues, but still takes a few scans to assure there’s no connection error. You’re shifting in your spot, bouncing back and forth on either foot as your mechanical heart begins to race with excitement. Angela eyes you from her holopad and gives a soft smile at your eagerness. “Please do be careful.” She says gently, expression relaxing as she swipes the screen away to cross her arms. “You’re clear for now. Come back to my office later for a follow-up.” She cocks a brow, “Promise me you won’t get into any trouble?”
With the flags waved you stand upright once again, wobbling slightly due to the sudden movements but you realign yourself with a wide smile as the doctor’s brow twitches in annoyance. “No promises!” You declare before beginning to take off only to stop to grab your crutch, “Just in case.” Seeing that she seems to soften again and nod, thanking you for the consideration of your own well-being before you take off with staggering movements.
The three watch you run off out the room and stumble down the hall due to your newly acquired movements. Torbjörn shakes his head with a chuckle, “If she breaks’em it’s on her. I’ve done my part.”
The doctor’s hand went to her mouth to cover the small chuckle she gave before shaking her head. “I doubt she will do that.”
“Hauling out of here willy-nilly like she’s about to run a damn marathon will!” The Swede huffs. “She can get that damn vermin to fix’em if she breaks’em.”
Angela shakes her head once more knowing well that, if they were to break, Torbjörn’s pride would prevent anyone from tinkering on his own creations.
Upon arriving in the basement you knock on the open door frame to find only a Hog sitting on the couch watching the telly as per usual. If he wasn’t watching some show he was either reading a book or napping. Upon seeing him you excitedly bounced over, grinning ear to ear. During your walk here you came to notice your footsteps were almost entirely silent. The only sound that came from your legs was the occasional whirring of the joints when you bent them too drastically. Once again, with no shoes to protect your synthetic toes you could feel almost everything coming through the floor. Sounds, movements, muffled speaking from the television. It was definitely something you’d have to get used to.
At least you were finally able to take the stairs without stumbling. First major win.
When you got to the couch’s side you came to realise Roadhog was asleep. You could tell by the way his breathing was heavier than usual and by how his shoulders were rolled back along with one hand hanging over the arm of the couch. He gave light, but deep snores too- which was the more obvious sign. It took you by surprise. You’d seen him asleep on the couch a few times; some of those times being when you entered the room. But normally he’d always wake by the time you knocked on the doorframe and entered. You frown, tilting your head to the side before looking around the room to see if there was instead any sign of Junkrat. It would be rude to wake Hog up so abruptly. Even if it was just to show off your new legs.
With no sign of Junkrat you moved again, deciding for now just to take your leave and come back later once the man was awake. However, you paused to grab the remote off the coffee table. The least you could do was turn off the tv for now, you’d hate for Hog to lose his place in the show he was watching. Right as you cut off the tv, and leaned down to put the remote back, a large hand came into your peripheral vision.
Not a single word managed to get out before an oversized hand wrapped its way around your throat to squeeze. Hard. You struggled to take in a breath, both hands flying up to grab the wrist of the man who was slowly lifting you off the ground. In mere seconds your vision had become blurry as you dangled mere inches above the concrete flooring, jaw painfully tight as you jerked and spasmed. In a panic you began using your new legs to kick frantically, aiming wherever you could hit. Your feet kicked frantically into the man’s gut and you knew the weak attacks wouldn’t even bruise the goliath holding you by your throat.
Static was beginning to ripple in the air as you choked, your synthetic heart was beginning to race as you thrashed in the man’s grip and dug your nails into his knuckles. You couldn’t see properly anymore, vision blurred and fading as the hand around your throat didn’t loosen its grip until finally a sob managed to make its way past your lips. Just as fast as it tightened, the hand around your throat suddenly let go of the death grip it previously had around your bruising throat.
You were dropped to the ground, side hitting against the coffee table before you rolled off onto the rug on the floor. Another sob left you as a breath finally allowed you to cough, throat feeling tight from the swelling already beginning to bruise your skin. You lay there on the floor unmoving, simply taking a moment to breathe as your mind tried to catch up to what just happened.
Strong hands finally made their way to your sides as you were carefully picked up despite the fear that flooded your blue veins. Roadhog lifted you carefully and set you down on the couch. Through your blurred vision you were able to tell his mask was now adjusted, uptilted to show the lower half of his face. You relaxed into the couch, coughing a few more times as you swallowed down a dry throat before bringing your hands up to wipe your eyes. When your vision returned you found Roadhog was standing before you with a cup of water. You took it without question, hands still shaking from the adrenaline rush as you carefully brought the cup to your lips to drink from it.
It was dead silent as you downed the cup of water anxiously, breaths still frantic as you tried to think of a way to calm yourself faster. There wasn’t any way. You’d just been choked out by someone you’d previously trusted for no apparent reason. The first thought that came to mind was that you startled him. Maybe he has some sort of trigger you just happened to spring? You weren’t sure. You were waiting for him to speak first now, expecting an apology or something more.
Instead you got an almost spiteful sounding grunt, “Don’t do that.”
When you looked up at him you found his face was covered by the mask again. His response did nothing to soothe you. In return you bit back in a dry, scratchy voice. “Do what? I didn’t do anything.”
“Come up on me while I’m sleepin’.” He huffs, “Don’t like it.”
“I knocked when I entered. I thought you heard me.” You sniff, brows twitching with annoyance as you swallow down the last few sips of water before setting the cup on the coffee table. Your hand came up to feel your neck, finding it was very obviously swollen. By now, due to your regenerative abilities, it was probably already growing bruised.
“Didn’t.” He went quiet as he watched you for a moment before bringing his hand down to your neck. The action caused you to jolt in fear, tensing as his colossal fingers gently felt over the red welts on your neck. Despite the fear eating away at the back of your mind, the will to trust him was stronger and so caused you to relax. You leaned into the touch as he examined the damage quietly before stating in an (almost) soft voice. “Sorry.”
At first your instinct was to say it was alright, but it simply wasn’t. You swallowed down the remark that almost slipped out to instead ask back, “Why’d you do it then?” The hurt showed through your words despite how hard you tried to bite it back.
The hand on your neck hesitated as his thumb came up to stroke your cheek tenderly. Had you not been so angry with him in the moment, you would’ve possibly found it alluring. “Mind went blank. Wasn’t thinking.” He gave a sigh as his hand slowly cupped your face and allowed his index finger to stroke a welt on your neck. “Happens sometimes.”
You wanted to bite back with another comment, but fell short as you instead leaned into his touch. A part of you was obviously still upset with him, but the other half was taking note that he was definitely attempting to be apologetic. Even if that was through means of physical affection as he stroked your cheek. It was an odd feeling, but a welcomed one. It was far more comforting than any words he could give you. Him telling you that, that just ‘happens sometimes’ definitely wasn’t comforting. Your brows knitted together as you thought it over, trying to piece together what he meant by that. In the end you could only chop it up to being some sort of stress disorder. Junkrat had mentioned before that Hog used to be a revolutionist during one of the wars.
“...Do you get like, flashbacks or something?” You asked the question cautiously, but it still caused Hog to jolt in surprise. That answered the question for you and instead you just nodded silently to his movement. It went quiet again as he slowly took the seat next to you on the couch. As he squeezed into the space there you felt the couch creak and give as he put his weight down on it. His shoulder was pressed to yours as he let out a loud sigh. Your eyes stayed to the floor as you swallowed again, trying hard to ignore the tightness in your throat as it struggled to heal rapidly.
After a few moments you were the first to break the silence again. “You scared me.” You weren’t sure why you felt compelled to admit it, but you felt he needed to hear it. When you thought about it… this was the first time he’d ever actually scared you. Everyone else on base had always gone on about how scary he was and how they avoided him because of what he’d done or would do if you got in his way, but you’d never felt that way. Not until now at least.
“M’sorry.” He replied with a soft breath as his hand came up to rest on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before he rubbed small circles into your back with his thumb. You leaned into the touch subconsciously, resting your head on his chest as his arm wrapped around your small figure as gently as he could. The whole scenario made you realise just how gentle Hog had always normally been with you. One hand was enough to take your breath away. You can’t imagine what two would be like had he given it his all.
After another moment you cleared your throat to lift one of your legs, awkwardly showing off your new prosthetics. “New legs.” You said with a reassuring smile up at him as you tried to lessen the tension between the two of you and to momentarily change the topic. “What d’ya think?"
He tilted his head to look at them before giving a nod. “Fancy.”
That caused you to chuckle. “Real fancy. Rat’s gonna be pissed.”
He nodded, “Mhm.”
It still felt awkward, but you were happy that you were at least getting over it slowly. For now you leaned forward to grab the remote to turn on the tv again, asking Hog where he left off before he fell asleep to which he replied he didn’t remember. So you went back to the last episode you watched with him and resumed it. He was noticeably more quiet than usual, but you felt that was possibly due to feeling guilty. At least you think or hope so. Usually when it’s just the two of you he’s more talkative, but today was going to be one of those quiet days.
You didn’t mind it. For not at least. The silence was welcomed after the high tension adrenaline rush you’d just received. Your fingers were still shaking slightly though and with a quick glance you found bright blue veins still flickering with volts of power rippling through your system. For a while now you hadn’t bothered wearing the gloves given to you by Zarya, but you were beginning to reconsider it. Torb did build conductors in your new legs, but you had a feeling they weren’t going to be enough for what you needed.
Your movements caught the eye of Roadhog who suddenly reached up to grab your arm to hold it up, examining your wrist himself. The abrupt touching caused you to jolt again, but you forced yourself to relax once more. You weren’t going to start fearing him over one accident. No, you were different. You weren’t like everyone else on base, Roadhog had always been gentle with you and he apologised. He doesn’t even apologise to Rat.
Though eventually you began to grow uncomfortable with the exam, frowning slightly as Hog continued to look over your blue veins and stroke his large thumb over them. You had an itching feeling that he, unlike Rat, knew about your scenario. So you asked, “You’re not surprised?”
He turned his head a tad when you spoke and grunted, releasing his gentle grip on your arm. “Not really.”
“Hm.” You nodded, taking your arm back to let it fall down to your lap. “So you know?” There was a break of silence and you figured he was trying to decipher what you meant by that. Which must’ve been the right guess because he nods seconds later. “Does Rat know?” He shakes his head. You're not really sure how to take that information, but you suppose it does answer a handful of questions. The main one being why Roadhog never seemed to be suspicious of you unlike Junkrat who was constantly questioning the little things.
A question continues to swim around in your mind due to the newfound information. Junkrat didn’t trust robots or anything of the sort, meaning he didn’t trust Genji either and had made multiple comments on the cyborg’s presence on base. Mainly stating he didn’t like that the man ‘snooped’ around given he was a ninja, but you weren’t exactly focused on that. He didn’t trust Genji because he’s a cyborg, not because he snoops. It always made you question how Rat would react had he found you were also in the same boat. But now you were beginning to ask the same question for Hog. He knew, which meant to some degree he must not mind given he let you in his home frequently and obviously this close to him.
So when you looked up at him and found he was staring back, it was obvious he was waiting for something. “Do you trust me?” You asked the question nervously, trying to keep your nerves on a leash while your expression remained neutral.
Roadhog was quiet, as per usual, but more so than normal. He was stiff too. He didn’t speak or move, not even a grunt or huff. After a minute or so of this treatment he finally gave a deep, low sigh. “Dunno.” It wasn’t the answer you wanted nor were expecting, but when you thought about it you weren’t sure what you were expecting. You weren’t sure how to react to that, but your expression must’ve fallen due to the head tilt he gave after. “You’re weird.” He started suddenly, “Dunno what to think of you.”
“I could say the same for you.” You gave a little laugh from the nerves and shook your head, eyes falling to the floor again. “And I barely even know you.”
His head cocked to the side, “How’s that?”
“You never talk about yourself.” You said simply, “But neither do I yet you know all about me, right? But that’s due to all the meetings…” You weren’t dumb nor stupid. Roadhog could’ve only gotten the information about your past from the meetings Angela and Winston held with the other agents.
He grunts, “You wanna know more?”
“I’m not sure.” You shrug, “I do… But at the same time I have a feeling it’s not going to be all rainbows and sunshine, is it?” Junkrat had let you in a few times on tales from their past. From what you gathered from his stories, it wasn’t a pretty life. Australia was a wasteland and filled with savages. Roadhog was one among them and so was Rat, but to a worse degree.
“S’not.” He shakes his head and takes in a deep breath that shakes his stomach.
You chew on your inner cheek awkwardly and think, eyes still to the floor as you think. His past is probably far worse than your own, of course. Roadhog’s seen multiple wars, lived through them and in them. He’s taken countless lives and you now think on it to realise you’re next to a well-known murderer.
Though you have a feeling you fit right into that boat yourself.
“You get flashbacks, right?” When you speak again he tilts his head to show he’s listening. “Of the war and whatnot?” He gives a slow and uncertain nod before you continue. “How do you deal with them?” With that question he now looks at you fully and it causes you to jolt a little with how sudden it is. It’s always hard to distinguish what he’s thinking due to the mask and despite all the effort you’d put in trying to figure out his body movements, but now you can only make out that he’s somehow confused by your question.
Eventually he does answer. “You don’t.”
“Oh.” You visibly deflate, chewing on your cheek once again as nerves eat at the back of your mind.
“You get’em?” He nudges you with the arm still around your shoulder.
You look at him again, “Do I get flashbacks?” He nods and you nod back slowly. “Sometimes.”
In your dreams you do. Dreams of the cold vat you’d woken up in with Aron’s light shining down at you. The plane crash where you’d remember glimpses of falling through the chilled sky. The soldier’s face as the van doors swung open to reveal you holding a gun to them. Those memories replayed on loop in your mind and you could picture yourself looking in from a different view, seeing yourself as an outsider. Somehow in those dreams and memories, you found you weren’t ever scared like you felt you should be. When you’d fallen from the sky you always somehow knew you’d survive. And when you aimed the gun to the talon soldiers, you somehow knew you weren’t going to miss. There was no mistake in your actions.
Yet you’d always wake in a cold sweat from those dreams, find your hands shaking as your veins glow to remind you of your current life. You’d feel the urge to vomit, cry, and scream, but none of it would come. You always just felt numb.
You ask again, “How do you deal with them?”
“You don’t.” He repeats.
The answer makes you nod and frown, now noting that you’ve been nervously picking at your nails. You stop and deflate back onto the junker, leaning your weight into him again to look at the tv ahead still playing the show you’d turned on a while ago. Somehow you felt that conversation had opened a new door between either of you, but you weren’t ready to see in any further. Not yet at least. For now you were happy to willingly stay close to the goliath next to you, finding his presence was comforting once again.
As expected, Rat was very openly annoyed and or jealous of your new legs. He made a big fuss over them when he first saw them, ranting on about how they weren’t as good as ones he’d made. You highly doubted that given the one he had looked like it’d fall off with one well-aimed kick. He eventually did come around to stop complaining, instead examining Torbjörn’s work with obvious curiosity written all over his face. You stayed put on the couch next to Roadhog, letting Rat grab your leg and hold it up before tilting or turning it whichever way he pleased. You already knew he was going to do such a thing and there was no point in stopping him. Besides, it wasn't doing any harm.
He eventually did grow either bored or satisfied with his picking and left you be to instead flop down on the couch in the tiny remaining space next to you. Now between either junker once again, you relaxed. They were comforting to be with despite all the shit either had put you though. Roadhog’s strong silence with his arm still draped over your shoulders and Junkrat’s quiet muttering to himself as he picked at the soot under his nails. A thought crossed your mind as you looked to either of them. Had either not been a wanted criminal and had you not been a freak of nature yourself, the three of you may have never met. You didn’t like that thought. These two numbskulls had somehow become the closest thing to family you got going for yourself.
As Winston said, you recovered in no time.
Angela was expectantly unhappy that you wanted to do so much at once, but you digress. You heal three times faster than the average person; You were going to use that to your advantage. You doubled your daily workout routine, finding if you pushed yourself hard by the next morning you’d be healed enough for another go. When you explained your plan to the doctor she frowned and said you should still take things slow given that too much at once could be overwhelming.
With your new legs came a newfound confidence starting with your daily training sessions. Now able to freely join your peers you found yourself aiming to run ahead of them during the morning drills. Your lieutenant made no attempt to stop you from doing so either, only spurring you onward to push yourself harder. You didn’t want to be top of your class or anything, you weren’t aiming for that. You just wanted to do all the things you couldn’t before. Back before you became ill you would go on morning jogs daily. You wanted to do that again. Being able to now meant you were going to take every opportunity to do so.
Once again your time began to fall into an almost strict routine. Mornings included an early workout before breakfast. Then to basic training where you spent the majority of your day now. Lunch and free time, then to an occasional afternoon season where you’d join the second ranks in their lessons. Then the evening consisted of more gym time before finally a shower and dinner. Normally you’d spend dinner with Junkrat and Roadhog, taking your tray down to the lower decks where you’d eat there on the couch with them. Sometimes they’d ‘cook’ for you. Which you say loosely given most of their meals were instant noodles or something similar. It often had you bringing an extra tray down for either of them so that they’d have something more sustainable to eat. Mainly for Junkrat. Somehow, despite being a twig, the man still had some muscle on him. You had a feeling it was due to all his spaz movements and not that he actually worked out or anything.
Three weeks had gone by before you knew it. You’d grown so accustomed to your daily routine you barely even noticed how the time passed anymore. The only time you finally did come to realise time had passed was when Junkrat and Hog abruptly left on a mission one night. Roadhog had left a note on the coffee table for you to tell you they were off on a ‘secret mission’ and that didn’t make you feel any better about their disappearance. Winston was nice enough to tell you they’d been sent out to Greece, but their leave was so sudden it really snapped you back to reality in a split second. You’d grown so used to seeing them daily that not having them there felt like a hole had been dug out in your mind. They wouldn’t be back for another two weeks so you were left to fill the time yourself.
Your evenings had always been taken up by either of them that you really had no idea what to do without them. Angela had joked that you had become codependent on either of them now and you couldn’t even deny it, you had. With either of them gone you felt like a part of you left with them. For now you spent your evenings in your own room… which also felt odd. You hadn’t realised how much time you didn’t spend time there. It was more of Aron’s room than your own. The only thing you ever did in your own bedroom was sleep and change clothes. Your desk had even grown dusty.
So you spent some time freshing the place up. Finally folding the laundry on your bed for the first time in almost a month and putting it away in your dresser. Dusting which took a full hour to wipe down everything. Aron was happy to find his charging pad was now dust-free. By the time you sat down at your desk again you looked around the room to find it.. almost felt unfamiliar. You really only came in here to sleep, didn’t you? Even your bed looked odd now that you were staring at it. It made you think about how many times you’d fallen asleep next to Roadhog on the couch only to wake to sleepily say you’d be going to bed only to come here and instantly fall asleep again. You practically lived down there with them.
In your new freetime you found yourself taking more notice of your own appearance. Your hair was finally growing back nicely and you were finally able to give it a trim that tidied it up a bit. It was still pretty short, but that was due to having to trim off the odd long pieces that grew unevenly. The scarring on your face was still noticeable, but it had faded drastically. Same went for the rest of the scars littering your body. Your hand was still the worst out of the lot, but you had a feeling that was due to daily use of it that caused it to heal differently.
In the bathroom mirror you stepped back to look at your own figure after a shower. Nude, you could see the little imperfections on your skin that littered your body in discoloured scars and nicks. A part of your mind disliked them, but the other half didn’t. They made you… well, you. Without them you felt you would actually be off-looking. At least with the scars the more mechanical parts of you didn’t stand out as much. Angela had offered numerous times if you’d like cream to remove the scars, but you always refused. You wanted to see them heal more naturally, if at all, and the cream would just make you feel more artificial. At least this way you felt more human.
Now that you were taking a good look at yourself you took note of just how much muscle you’d put on. You had taken the workouts pretty seriously, but you didn’t realise the actual impact it had. Your arms and shoulders were toned and when you flexed them you could see the muscle there more clearly. It actually managed to make you smile, happy to find you weren’t some sort of malnourished string bean any longer. You weren’t buff by no means, but you finally stood a chance against some of the people here in terms of health.
With a newfound appreciation for yourself, you were able to leave the bathroom feeling satisfied. It’d been a long time since you ever felt good about looking at yourself in the mirror. Normally you’d cringe and avoid looking at your reflection, but for once you felt that maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought. Sure, the AFA still looked misplaced and your veins caused some fright, but it could be worse. You could still be stuck using a wheelchair or crutches and barely getting anywhere. It still amazes you whenever you think about your prosthetics. Even now whilst looking down at them you found it was odd that you could swivel and move them just like normal legs. Had they not been stark white in colour, some might not even notice they were prosthetics.
Training had turned to more practical uses now that the first few weeks were out the way. The lieutenant was now moving onto basic combat as well as group routines. You were slowly, but surely, learning how to work as a unit. It felt odd knowing that there was a chance you’d be joining these people out on the field someday. However, somehow, you found yourself able to keep pace with the team despite the majority being far more experienced than you.
For some reason all of these lessons felt… routine. As if you’d learned them before somewhere. You remembered all of the hand gestures for going in, pulling out, on your left, on the right, etc. It surprised your coordinator and caused you to realise it came off as suspicious to know all these things off the top of your head. So you drew it back despite somehow knowing. It left you feeling confused. The little things you somehow remembered so well. Hand gestures, verbal commands, and most basic equipment uses. When the team was taken into the weapons vault to be lectured on the proper use of a rifle, you found yourself staring at it in awe.
It just… seemed so familiar.
Just by looking at it in the moment you could picture it in your hand, pressed to your shoulder and peering down the scope to a field of waiting enemies. In your mind, you could see exactly how to reload the weapon and where to place your hands on the stock. All of this unwinding information was leaving your stomach sick as you attempted to move on from it with the rest of the group, instead looking at the pistol demonstration being given by your instructor. You chopped it all up to your father’s lessons as a kid. Many weapons were similar and despite being some years in the future, they all still had the same basic functions. Besides, you were always watching war documentaries and movies with your dad too. You probably picked up more things than you thought and were only now realising it now that you’re using it in practice.
Yet you couldn’t shake away an odd feeling that left the back of your head tingling.
You were forgetting something.
“You seem distracted?” A cold, calculated synthetic voice pulls you to the present as you look to see Aron is watching you curiously. His monoeye is looking over you rapidly and judging by the flickering colours, he’s taking a scan. “Do you feel nauseous?”
The question causes you to sigh as you put the weights down at the side of the bench, stretching out your fingers once you realise how hard you were clenching them. “A bit, I dunno I’ve been feeling weird lately…” You admit half-heartedly and keep your gaze averted from the omnic as you try to shake away the buzzing feeling in your mind. Your eyes wander over your wrist, looking at the electric blue veins there that have been crackling to life since the beginning of your workout.
He hums, “Would you like me to schedule an appointment with Dr. Ziegler?”
“No, I’m fine. If I think it’s serious or anything I would’ve gone to see her already.” You smile back at the bot reassuringly before going to pick up the wait again to continue your arm curls. “I think I’m just stressing myself out with training and all that.”
A part of you wants to admit what’s wrong to Aron, but the other half tells you it’s better not to. The bot will no-doubt run directly to Angela (or Winston) to mouth off about your current condition. You didn’t think it was that serious. “I’m just a little overwhelmed by everything, that’s all.” Your smile falters as you think about it. That’s probably what it is. You’ve changed your entire schedule at the drop of a dime after all. Workouts, combat lessons, material lessons, etc. It didn’t help that both of your sources of entertainment were still gone for another week. You could really use Junkrat’s ramblings as a distraction from everything right now. Without the two on base you felt useless, which is why you were working out more in the evenings now.
“Alright.” Aron puts simply, “If you are feeling unwell please let me know accordingly. It is in my duties to assure your health stays at optimal leaves.”
“I will, I promise.” You nod right as Aron states he was being requested by Athena and takes his leave. The gym is empty right now and thank goodness. You’re left to use the equipment alone without being stared at by someone. Usually the recruits in here with you are always watching you workout. It was probably just odd to see someone literally glow when they do. You can’t exactly stop your veins from pumping out the lights when you’re using up energy. It’s an odd detail you noticed about yourself and one you’re not too fond of. You finish your workout shortly after the bot leaves and get up, letting out an exhausted sigh as you put away the equipment you took out with a struggled groan. As much as you enjoyed healing quickly, it did come with the major setback of recurring pain. Angela said it was something most enhanced soldiers went through and something you’d have to grow used to as you age.
Right as you finish putting the weights away you feel as if someone (or something) is staring at you. On instinct you whip your head around to get merely a glimpse of whoever it was, just their shoulder that seemed to be some sort of gray. For a minute you continue to stare at the doorway and wait for them to return, but when they don’t you shake your head in annoyance before grabbing your bag to leave the gym. As you hobble out to the showers your mind trails off back to the rifle once again, seeing it at the forefront of your mind once again. It causes you to sigh and grumble to yourself quietly, hating that you were stuck on something so minimal.
You’d never been particularly fond of guns even as a kid when your father gave you all those lessons, but that rifle was practically calling out to you. You swear you’ve just… you’ve seen it somewhere before.
“It’s freezin’!” The voice coming from the otherside of the holoscreen causes you to jerk back and adjust the volume on your headset. It was unexpected to receive a call from Junkrat. You were lucky to have Athena notify you that he had requested a ‘meeting’. Had she not told you, you probably would’ve missed it. “I hate it’ere! Damn weather has me toes going numb!” It’s odd seeing Junkrat in a sweater and the sight makes you snort. Scratch that, it’s odd seeing him wear any clothes aside from just his shorts and boots. He’s actually fully clothed for once, wearing pants and everything.
“Well at least they’re trying to keep you toasty.” You hum, folding your arms on the desk to prop your head up on them as Junkrat groans loudly. In the background of the video feed you spot Roadhog sleeping on what seems to be some sort of chair. He’s also wearing a heavy coat for once, one that goes all the way up to his neck. “You have any idea when you two are getting back?” You tilt your head and hold your jaw to your knuckles as Junkrat rolls his eyes with apparent annoyance.
“No idea! This bloke’s givin' us a damn hard time, sheila! Ol’doc and the others say he’sere then he’s there. Aahg! I’m gettin’ tired of all this waitin’ around!” It’s possibly one of the first times you’ve seen Rat talk so casually about something. They were out on some sort of retrieval mission, as far as you know. The details were kept on the low-down so you didn’t know much aside from what Rat’s told you. And from what he’s told you, you’ve gotten the idea that he really doesn’t know what he’s doing out there himself.
You snort, “Well hopefully you’ll be back soon.”
His expression lightens at that, smiling wide and getting far too close to the camera as he giggles. “You missin’ me already?”
“I guess you could say that,” You admit lightly. Truthfully you really had. “It’s boring around here without my two favourite idiots keeping me company.” Your face feels warm admitting it so easily, but again, it’s the truth. You really did miss them. When did you become so attached?
Junkrat seems to hesitate at that for merely a moment before he whips his head around to his sleeping companion to shout, “You hear that pig-face!? She misses us!” His sudden screaming wakes Hog who visibly jolts in the background of the feed.
“Oh, Rat, don't wake him.” You feel guilty for causing Roadhog’s disturbance but when the man turns to give a silent thumbs up, you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Don’t worry he ain’t sleepin!” Junkrat huffs, “Hog don’t really sleep ‘til we’re home.” He shrugs and you listen in as Roadhog gives a loud groan before slouching back down in the chair once again. You have a sneaking suspicion he doesn’t sleep due to the man screaming all the time. “What’ya been up to, Weasel?”
“Weasel?” You repeat with a raised brow. “Is that really the nickname you’ve picked for me?”
Junkrat groans, “Alright alright… that don’t sound right either, no. You’re right, sheila. We need something better.” He scratches his chin. “How’bout Possum?”
“No, even worse.” You guess he’s talking about the Australian kind, but you’re thinking of the state ones. “You still don’t wanna call me D6 just because Aron does?”
“Whaaat?” He’s obviously lying. “No! That ain’t why, not at all!” He’s even looking around suspiciously as if someone else said that.
“You’re ridiculous…” You roll your eyes, “Fine. You can pick something, but it’s not going to be weasel or possum.”
Once again he grumbles before rolling his eyes and moves the conversation onwards. “Right, right… Now answer my question.”
“What have I been up to?” He nods and you shrug. “Nothing much really. Just training and workout.” You shrug, eyes feeling heavy as you let out a long, deep breath.
He frowns at that, “Am I keepin’ you up?” It’s oddly cute to find him sounding so genuinely concerned.
You blink a few times at that. It’s a bit late and while you were tired, you weren’t ready to sleep. “A bit, but it’s alright. I’m not really ready to go to bed anyway.”
His expression falters as he falls quiet for a minute before asking quietly, “Not sleeping well?” It’s your turn to go quiet now as you think about it. You haven’t. Lately all of your dreams have been… weird. You’ve been getting more frequent nightmares and waking up in cold sweats from them. Sweats that left you with a throbbing headache, a headache you haven’t felt in a long time. Most dreams have been of the lab. The table you’d been strapped to, the doctors screaming in German around you, the searing pain in your veins that made your world shake, the blinding lights, the-
Junkrat’s voice breaks through your thoughts as he calls out your name quietly.
It’s the first time he’s ever said your actual name. You’ve never heard him say it before and hearing it now makes your heart throb when you look back up to see he’s staring at you with a deep frown. In the background, Hog has also sat upright to peer over at the video feed as well. “You alroight?” Rat’s voice is the calmest you’ve ever heard it. He sounds concerned and it’s showing all over his face as you stare back.
“M’fine.” You say simply. “I’ve just been sleeping really bad lately.” A sigh causes your shoulders to drop as you visibly deflate before either junker.
It’s quiet for a moment and he glances back to Hog before looking back to the screen again. “Hows’bout you get some sleep, sheila?”
The question causes your stomach to churn and you nervously fumble over your words for a reply. “Can we just talk a bit more?” You sound uneasy and it gets across to Junkrat who’s brows knit together before he gives an unsure smile back.
“Whatcha’ wanna talk about?” His smile seems strained.
“I don’t know, anything?” You swallow, “Any cool explosions happen while you two have been out? You blow up any bad guys?”
Your attempt at changing the topic seems to work as he nods frantically before beginning to ramble on about his latest and greatest escape from the last location they were at. One where a whole group of Talon soldiers had walked right into a trap they’d set up. You ignore the fact that they possibly (and likely) killed numerous people. Instead you focus on how Junkrat smiles at the memories and moves his hands with each explanation, trying to give a demonstration of how it all went down. In the background you even catch a glimpse of Hog chuckling silently at their shared story.
“D-6, ready position.”
Your commander’s order reads clearly through your earpiece as you shift your suit to get in place. The view from atop the building gives a clear shot of the street down below. With the order now given you take position, shifting the mecha to locate yourself down low. With the rifle firmly held to your shoulder you peer down the scope, the internal goggles lowering to give a clear view down as you aim for the doorway below. From where you were positioned you could see the passerby below continuing on with their days as if nothing were about to happen. The oblivious citizens below are all smiles as the snow falls gently in the busy city.
“Ready position.” Your voice is clear back. Cold and calculated with a synthetic tone to it as the device around your mouth continues to pump in a steady stream of oxygen. With your eyes locked in on the street below you move your hands, getting a firm grip on the rifle to hold it and press it tight to yourself. A bead of sweat dribbles down your forehead and slides down your cheek as your breathing slowly steadies.
Eventually the doors to the hall open and a group steps out. Among the few are the high profiled suspects going about their evening all dressed in formal attire. One stands out among them, a human male in his mid forties. His smile is bright as he holds the door open for the other guests, them thanking him politely as he adjusts his tie with one hand. The other hand holds a glass of champagne that glistens in the street light as a snowflake slowly falls to land on the rim.
“Fire.”
When the command is given you take a deep breath and remember the familiar words a man had engraved into the back of your mind. ”Don’t ever miss.” With one pull of the trigger the barrel sends out a silent bullet that lodges itself right into the forehead of the target. Blood splatters on the doorframe as his body’s knees buckle before he falls lifeless to the snow-covered pavement. The scene causes the other patrons to scream in terror, many stumbling back to fall onto the waiting limousine where the driver is already looking horrified himself as he stands with the door still open and waiting.
“Good job, D-6. Relocate to EVAC immediately.”
As the smoke streams from the barrel you pull the mecha to stand and quickly begin taking your retreat. You skillfully sling the rifle to your back, allowing the clip to reattach to the back and secure it in place. The screams could still be heard in the distance as you jump from the building’s edge and into the alleyway, carefully taking the path you came back to the meeting point. Sirens could be heard blaring in the distance as you leave the scene. With your mission complete you find yourself smiling, seemingly proud of the handiwork you’d done. It was nice and clean as per usual with no mistakes.
By the time you reach the evacuation point the Orca is just now landing at the dock’s edge. You wait patiently as it lowers out of the sky, the jet engines causing your ears to ring as the ship descends. As it does the glass window reflects your expression back at you in the moon’s light. Your face is covered by a heavy mask that locks down onto your shoulders plates with bolts. There’s steam coming from your back as the water cooling system blows hot air from the exhaust ports, blue rippling through the cords and hoses attached firmly to your back.
In the window's reflection you spot the chest plate reads in white, bold letters, "D-6."
You wake in a cold sweat that leaves you gasping for breath as you frantically reach up to feel over yourself. All skin and bones. Your breathing seems to have woken Aron who sensed the disturbance in your AFA as he whirls to life and hovers over above you to take a scan. The sudden light is blaring and causes you to swat at him as you sit up. “Stop, stop! I’m fine!” You snap at him through gritted teeth as the omnic floats backwards to avoid your light attacks.
“I have noticed increased levels in the AFA. Please proceed with caution and avoid coming in contact with any conductors in the general area.” His eye light spins to life as he takes yet another scan. “Your blood pressure has increased and you are experiencing large amounts of adrenaline. Are you feeling unwell, D-6?”
“Don’t call me that.” Your words come out harsher than you expect them to and you take a moment to find the omnic floating next to you has gone suddenly quiet. “I’m sorry, Aron. I just had another nightmare.” By now your breaths are finally coming to a steady pace and you swallow to find your throat is dry. The dream of the lady's voice still rings out in your head, hearing her repeat the phrase you'd only grown accustomed to hearing Aron say.
The bot follows you as you stand and gently press him out of the way. “Another nightmare? Are these nightmares recurring and causing a damper on your current mental state?”
Despite how much you love the omnic, his continuing persistence is quite frustrating at times. “I don’t know, Aron. I’m just… I’m just not feeling it lately.” You sigh, grabbing the cup of water you’d left on your desk the previous night to take a few sips from it. “I’m fine.”
His eye swivels again before he states firmly, “I do believe you are lying to me.”
You ignore him and sit down at your desk chair, letting out a sigh after you finish off what remains of the glass before setting it down. The nightmare isn’t exactly new… but every time you have it, it gets longer. It feels so real, too. But it can’t be. It’s just a bad dream that you’ve been having every other night. It’s just like those dreams where you see your mother getting dragged away from you in the lab. It’s just a nightmare.
“I’m fine, Aron. Please. I’m fine. Go back to charging.” The omnic is reluctant but eventually gives into your command and returns to his charging pad. Once his eyelight fades to black you relax. The muscles in your shoulders and neck are tight. Tension is building and causing your head to pound with an oncoming headache. You’ve been getting them more frequently again, but they eventually go away after breakfast. With a sigh you double dap the desk to pull up the holoscreen to check the time. It’s about four in the morning. You weren’t going back to bed anytime soon. The forefront of your mind is still alive with flashes of the nightmare that is slowly beginning to fade away. The small details stay, however, despite how hard you try to suppress them as well.
With a defeated breath you stand and dress, pulling on a pair of shorts and a form-fitting t-shirt before making your way out of the room. The hallway is still dim with the night time light cycle, but you’re still able to easily navigate the hallway. This isn’t your first time up this early and it certainly won’t be the last. The base feels so empty at this time. There’s no one in the hallway except for you. God you wish there was. Maybe Junkrat or Hog, hell you’d take Angela or Winston right now. Someone just to talk to and get your mind off things.
You scratch your head as you turn the corner to find a glowing set of green lights is passing ahead. Along with him you find the sound of familiar spurs clinging together as Cassidy follows beside him. Your presence instantly catches the attention of either person as they whip around to look at you. It’s so sudden it causes you to jolt and give an awkward wave as you continue your walk towards them. They’re easy to read, especially Cole who’s giving you a sour look in the dim light. You debate if you want to turn around or not, but decide against it as that’s probably going to draw more suspicion from either party. Besides, the cafeteria is ahead and you planned to get a cup of coffee.
When you get close enough you awkwardly clear your throat to speak, “Uhm. Good morning.”
Cole gives a nod, “Mornin. What are you doin’ up this early, girly?”
You try to give a smile that fails through. “Ah just, had a bad dream. Can’t sleep now.” As you walk past they follow suit, both keeping pace beside you. “What about you two?” Your eyes go to Genji who still hasn’t said a word. Like Roadhog he wears a mask, but it’s even harder to tell his emotions. Unlike Roadhog, he has no physical cues as to what he’s thinking. He’s still as a board. “Coming in from a mission?”
“Goin’ out.” Cole huffs.
The two of you still aren’t on good terms. Neither of you speak often and when you do, it’s usually this sort of awkward small talk. There’s obviously still tension between you two and you’re doing nothing to help it. Not that there really is anything you can do. Cole’s made it clear he doesn’t trust you. As for Genji… you feel he’s in the same boat.
“Well alright then.” You nod, “Where are you guys going this time?”
The cowboy glares at you, “It’s classified.”
His answer causes you to sigh. “I really don’t need hostility, Cole.” You finally frown and drop your attempt at acting normal. The tension is strong and you’re only growing spiteful back with each reply he gives. “Why do you even bother trying to make small talk with me if you’re not going to bother trying to act as if you don’t hate my guts?”
“I don’t hate yer’ guts.” He sneers, “You just got too many unanswered questions about you that everyone else seems to be fine just lettin’ stay in limbo with two shits not given.”
His dialect has you squinting at him and shaking your head. “And that just so happens to warrant you hating me? Right, right…” You sigh. “You act as if my life’s book hasn’t been opened up right in front of you.”
“It hasn’t,” He scoffs.
“Well yours hasn’t been opened to me. I know nothing about either of you.” You glance at Genji who’s been listening in silently and then back to Cole. “Besides you haven’t even asked me anything else about myself. Everything you know has been second-hand from Angela or Winston.”
He cocks a brow, “How’d you know that?”
“Because I’m not stupid.” It’s your turn to shoot a glare at him this time and stop where you stand in the hallway. It causes the two of them to stop too. “If you want to go digging for answers then maybe you should look in the right places, y’know? I’m right here. I’ve never denied answering questions to anyone and you’ve yet to take that opportunity to answer the ‘too many unanswered questions’ that I apparently have.”
He’s quiet for a moment before pointing a finger at your chest, “Fine. Where’d ya’ get it?”
You raised a brow and followed his finger to find he was pointing to the AFA beneath your shirt. “The AFA?” You swat his hand away. “I don’t really know. I woke up with it. I never agreed to have it installed or any of that crap.”
He huffs, “What about yer’shootin? You really learned that from your father?”
“I did.” You state the answer in full confidence… but something in the back of your mind is eating away at your nerves. You can’t remember how old you were when your dad did teach you how to shoot. Just the memory of him telling you how. “I never had any formal training up until now.”
He stares at you for a long minute before raising his wrist up to check the time. Once he finds an answer to his own question he bumps past you and nods his head. “C’mon.”
You look to Genji to find he’s wordlessly following and assume it’s for him, but when Cole looks back to you it’s obvious he expects you to follow as well. So you do, looking unsure as you follow either man down the base’s various hallways. Eventually you huff, “Where are we going?”
“Shootin’ range.” He says bluntly.
“The shooting range?” You cock a brow, “Why?”
“Wanna see your shot.” He glances back at you over his shoulder. “I wanna see this aim your father gave ya’.”
You open your mouth to argue, but ultimately fall silent to instead continue along. Whatever he was trying to get at here you had a weird feeling in your gut that you shouldn’t do it. But you digress and follow anyway. If this cocky asshole wants to see your shot then you’d let him. You have nothing to hide. Besides, the shots you landed on those soldiers were just lucky. It was the adrenaline and rush in the moment. You doubt you could do it again that easily
The shooting range is entirely empty as the three of you enter and as the door slides shut behind you, the lights come on and the training dummies are brought out by the room’s automatic sensors. You follow Cole as he steps to the wall and punches a code into a panel to allow the gun vault to retract from the wall. He takes a second to pick out a 1911 style pistol and loads it full of bullets before stepping to you to hand it over along with a pair of earmuffs.
You take it with a raised brow as he points to the first training dummy in the row. “Go on. Shoot’em.” Genji is watching with his arms crossed, still completely silent as he observes the situation at hand. For people who don’t trust you, they’re putting a lot of faith in handing you a loaded gun. With a dry throat you swallow and step up to the range counter, looking over the pistol in the palm of your hand with uncertainty. It feels… oddly familiar. You rub your thumb over the handle, finding the metallic surface is worn from years of use. As you take a deep breath you raise it and shake your head right as Cole speaks up again. “One hand.”
That causes you to whip your head around at him and squint. “What?”
“Use one hand.” He nods to the gun, “Not two.”
“Why?” You raise a brow, “I can’t shoot with just one.”
He insists, “Try it.”
Biting down on your lower lip in frustration you shake your head and look forward again, keeping your non-dominant hand down at your side as you aim the gun with your opposing hand. There’s a bitterness blossoming in your chest as you get a good grip on the gun and swallow. When you pull the trigger the sound and recoil causes you to close your eyes. When you open them you find you missed the target entirely and sigh, “See?”
Cole scoffs back, “With your damn eyes open, dumbass.”
The bitterness in your chest boils down into your gut and you shake your head from frustration. “This is so fucking stupid…” You mumble the words under your breath and look ahead, taking a deep breath before holding the gun out again to fire off a few more rounds. To your own shock, each one hits the dummy. Three in the chest and one in the head. You take a moment to step back, looking at the dummy in awe before down at your own hand in utter shock.
“Tellin’ me you can’t hit a damn thing.” Cole bites back, “Fuckin’ liar.”
You whip your head around to him again, “That was pure luck!” Your voice fails you and nerves show through as you look at him dumbfounded. In an attempt to prove your point you look ahead again and raise the gun one more time, firing off the last few rounds in the pistol. The last three rounds each hit the dummy, this time two in the head and one in the foot. The demonstration is doing nothing to help your case and Cole is now only looking at you more suspicious now with his jaw clenched. “I don’t..” You fumble over your words as you look down at the pistol in your hand. “I really don’t…”
Cole steps up and snatches the pistol out of your hand, “You really thinkin’ it’s just luck now?” He squints at you and steps away to the wall where Genji suddenly nods up at him. Cole looks to his companion before putting the pistol away to grab a rifle off the wall. He loads it with a few bullets before hitting a button on the wall that causes the test dummies to reel backwards about a hundred feet to put more distance between the counter, you, and them.
As Cole hands the rifle off to you, your heart begins racing. It’s the same one you’d seen in the training room before. The same type and model. You stare at it with uncertainty before looking to see Cole has already stepped back and crossed his arms to watch. “I don’t know how-”
“Try.” He huffs, “Genji said you were eyein’ it pretty bad before. Go on.”
With a quick glance to Genji you get a brief memory of feeling as if someone were watching you and another flash of the gray armour plate from his shoulder. You look back to the rifle and find your hands are shaking nervously. It felt familiar. You could see yourself already looking down the scope and picture exactly where the bullet would land on the test dummy. “What?” You shake your head, “I don’t know how. I was only eyeing it because… because it was cool looking.” When you look back at the two you find Cole is glaring at you again, his jaw is clenched and nose wrinkled.
He steps forward up to you and points to the rifle in your hands. “Yer’ lying.”
You stare back as sweat begins to bead on your forehead and the blue in your veins begins to glow. “I-I don’t. I’ve never held a gun as big as this before?”
“You know how, don’t you?” He accuses.
You do. “I don’t.”
He huffs, “Then shoot it. Prove me wrong.”
Your breaths are growing frantic as you stare down at the rifle in your hands. In a panic you raise the rifle and clumsily hold it to your shoulder, hands still shaking as you slowly bring it up with uncertainty. When your hands find the trigger you find yourself looking down the scope with perfect accuracy. Lined right up with the dummy’s head. Your breaths are still shaky as you swallow and pull the trigger, but the bullet misses and barely scrapes past the dummy’s torso. A relieved breath leaves you only for Cole to huff, “Again.” Hesitating, you bring the gun back to fire again. Once again you miss, this time firing right past the training dummy to hit the wall.
Cole grits his teeth together and brings his hand up to adjust the rifle in your hands, “Again.”
You follow orders and shoot again, but the recoil causes you to fumble and hit the dummy in the leg. That seems to please the cowboy who rips the rifle from your hands and unloads it with a grumble, quickly returning the firearm back to the rack with the others. You watch in a cold silence and glance at the test dummy that is littered with new bullet holes from your first attempt with the pistol. Once the gun rack reverts back into the wall Cole looks at you with sharp eyes. “Too many unanswered questions.” His words are spiteful as he turns to leave with Genji following suit behind him.
You watch them leave before turning back to look at the training dummy once again to watch as it returns to be hidden away inside the wall where a machine is waiting to repair the damage. A heavy sigh leaves you as you swallow down the nervous lump in your throat. Somehow, you can still feel the rifle in your hands and pressed to your shoulder.
Your close companions won't be back for another three days.
Three days. You can endure that. You’ve endured two weeks, another three days hopefully won’t kill you. Though it feels painful to think about. You've been lonely without them and the recurring nightmares have been plaguing the lonesome nights. Aron continues to ask about your health, but you ignore him each and every time. You aren’t sure how to explain to him what’s on your mind. He’d just come up with some synthetic answer you didn't want to hear. You wanted to hear something more personal, something to comfort you not worry you about whatever new condition you were having.
“I don’t see any abnormal activity.” Angela’s voice is soothing, but her words are not. “We could conduct a sleep study, if you would like. It would give a more accurate scan given that is at the time they occur?”
With a sigh you look at the scan on the holoscreen and see the same results she does. Your brain looks fine. Nothing abnormal about it except for the neural implant at the back of your head. You’ve asked about it countless times, but all of Winston’s research on the device all came back to be a type of conductor that safely expels excess energy from the AFA to prevent neurological damage. So your any working theories on the device were a bust. “No, it’s fine.” You shake your head. The reason you’d made up to come here and see Angela was that you were experiencing frequent headaches in the night. You’d made a theory up to her that you believed your AFA was causing the headaches. A theory you, yourself, believed. You’d thought maybe the excess energy was causing some sort of neurological issue.
“Then I am unsure as to what we could do.” She frowned, “Is it just headaches? No other side effects? Have you been eating well?”
“Mhm.” You nod, “Fine. I’ve been sticking to the diet you put me on.”
She nods, “Hmm… Maybe you are in need of more sugar?” She offers a heart warming smile as she sits with her hands folded over her lap. “I’m prescribing you to eat some sort of sweet daily, preferably in the evening before bed.”
You smile at the thought. “Alright, I’ll do that.” It’s really not what you wanted to hear, but it’s your fault for not telling the whole truth. You were scared to tell anyone about the nightmares you’ve been having. They were beginning to feel too real. “Did you still want to check on my prosthetics while I’m here?”
“Oh yes.” The doctor stands and you stay put as she begins to examine your prosthetics as she mentioned beforehand. So far everything’s been fine. No chafing or discomfort of any kind. You’ve had no issues walking or running. You’ve come to Angela for weekly check ups so everything’s been in top-shape since you’ve gotten them. Winston’s only had to adjust a few bolts in them once thus far.
When Angela finishes she stands upright and adjusts her coat before taking a few light notes on your progress before looking back to you. “All clear.” She smiles and you stand, thanking her as you give a stretch before starting to head for the door. Right as it slides open she speaks again, “Do try to take it easy for the next week though, yes?”
You falter before giving a quick nod. “I’ll try.”
In the end you leave Angela’s office feeling unsatisfied. It’s your fault for not telling her everything honestly. You’d gone in there expecting to admit it all but ended up just nervously coming up with something else. It made you feel like a goddamn idiot. Maybe later you’ll have the courage to do so. For now you leave for the gym, planning to spend your afternoon working out a bit more than usual. It’ll at least take your mind off things. Those things being your nightmares, the rifle, and Cole’s interrogation.
Your gut still churns nervously thinking about it, but nothing’s come of it yet. Cole hasn’t said anything as far as you know and neither has Genji. Maybe they’re holding it as secret information to later blackmail you with. Or maybe you’re just being crazy thinking they’d do something like that. Either way your gut is still nervous thinking about it. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. Every corner you turned had you nervously glancing back to see if either the cowboy or the ninja was there stalking you despite you knowing they’d both left on a mission that morning. Maybe they’re waiting to come back and tell the rest of the team the news during a meeting. Great, you’ve got yourself anxious again.
At least working out takes your mind off things. Your eyes are focused on the holoscreen ahead playing the latest news from England. Talon and Null Sector were moving into Canada and the city of Toronto had gone on lockdown due to their increased presence. The news caused you to frown slightly, but there really wasn’t anything you could do about it. Yet, at least. Maybe eventually you’ll be let out on the field to join the others in the fight. You liked that thought. Hell, maybe you’d even join Junkrat just as he’d said before. Out on the field blowing up bots and people alike with Hog at your side. The thought made you snicker.
“Are you feeling any better?” Aron’s voice caused your attention to snap to him. “I saw you took time in your schedule to visit Angela.”
“Oh, hey Aron.” You nod at the bot’s presence and continue curling the weights in your arms. “Yeah I did. She gave me some advice and whatnot.” A lie right through your teeth, but maybe going to Angela would at least deter Aron from telling her all of your secrets. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, bud.”
“You say that as if I will not.” His monoeye adjusted to you as he floated closer to look at the holoscreen himself. “I see you are watching the news.”
“Mhm.” You nod, “You heard anything back from Junkrat or Hog?” Since the last call a few days ago you haven't heard anything from them since. Not that you really expected to. The first call was sudden, but you were really hoping for another.
“I have not.” He shakes his head.
You sigh, “That sucks.”
“Were you expecting them?” He sounds curious.
“Something like that.” You chuckle awkwardly. In a way you were. You really wanted to talk with them again. The last talk had helped distract you from everything. “I’m just missing them is all.”
“You have grown attached to them, have you not?”
When you look back to the omnic he’s staring at you intently, eagerly waiting for a reply that he’s no doubt going to write down somewhere in that brain of his. “I guess I have.” A grin tugs at your lips as you think about either of them. “I dunno why. They’re both crazy.”
He nods, “I have heard those refer to them as such.”
“Yeah, they sure are.” A memory of Junkrat rambling on about the boobie trap he’d set up crosses your mind and you snort. “But they make me feel like family.” They truly do. Neither question you of your past except if you bring it up. They never expect anything from you besides your company (unless Junkrat requests some sort of snack). And they made you feel at home whenever you did visit. You didn’t mind them getting close or the occasionally odd hug Junkrat would give you whenever you’d sit on the couch next to him. “That’s what matters, right?”
“If you think so then I would agree.” He sounds a bit cheery as he asks, “Am I family to you?”
You smile back and set the weights down to gently pat the core. “Mhm, you sure are. Just, not crazy like them.” A chuckle leaves you before you put the weights away and decide to call it a night. You’d been down here for a few hours, it’s probably lights out by now. “That’s a good thing, by the way.”
“I’ll take note of that,” He states as he watches you silently put your things up.
As the two of you leave the gym you take note that the hallway is oddly busier than usual. Agents are flooding into it and right back out to the southern deck. You have to stand to the side to let many by, looking on in awe as they are all suited and ready to go. When you manage to pass you find the door to Angela’s office is still open and slip inside right as the next unit of people come streaming by. Inside the doctor herself is also suited up, looking anxious as she’s packing a large duffle bag. “Where are you off to?” You ask with a little smile, curious to see where the team was going to be heading off this time.
Angela jumps at your presence and visibly relaxed once she realises it’s just you. “Greece.”
The statement now causes you to frown as you think back to Junkrat and Hog. “Are they alright?” She catches that you are referring to the team there and frowns back before hesitating to answer. Her hesitation and fumbling over words causes your heart to begin racing. “Angela, are they okay?” You ask a bit more firmly.
“They are fine.” She quickly says and with a few nervous nods repeats it, “They are fine.”
“I don’t believe you.” You snap back without thinking and it catches the doctor off guard, but you digress. “What happened?”
The doctor is obviously conflicted and struggles to find the right words as she continues stuffing the duffle bag full of supplies. “We’re not sure. Communications have been cut since Tuesday.” She finally admits the truth and your expression follows suit. “However a line has been established to Winston who has called for emergency backup. We will leave as soon as possible. If you have any medical needs please divert them to Briggette for my time gone, alright?”
As she begins to push past you and to the door, you move to block her path. “No. No, not alright.” Your brows knit together as the doctor grows visibly frustrated at your stubbornness. “I want to go.”
“No, that is a direct order.” She shakes her head firmly. “You are not cleared for unit formation you will stay here at Gibraltar.”
“My only two friends haven’t had contact with us since Tuesday.” You snap back, “It’s Saturday. You’re telling me that we haven’t heard from them for almost five days and you expect me to stay put?” When she goes to speak you cut her off. “Mercy, let me go with you. I’ll stick with the main team.”
She states in a motherly tone, “No. I am not going to put you in harm's way simply for that reason. I assure you that Fawkes and Mr. Rutledge are fine.”
A newfound courage is blossoming in your gut and you swallow back the spite building in your throat as you stare her down. “I’m going.” She falters at your demand as you swallow down building anger. “How long until the ship leaves?”
The doctor is conflicted and stares back, waiting for some sort of falter in your expression but when she finds none she gives. “Fine.” She swallows nervously, “Now. There is equipment on board for you to use.”
The flight is dead quiet in the bay. Your eyes are fixed on the ground as your stomach churns anxiously. The few main agents in the Orca include Angela, Tracer, Mei, and Winston. The others on board are people you’ve come across beforehand in passing by but don’t know personally. You’re at least familiar with Tracer who’s piloting the Orca, but even she was unsure of letting you aboard when you had approached with Angela. The pilot had tried talking you out of it as well, asking if you were sure you were ready for field work but when you assured her you were positive she seemed to give you the benefit of the doubt. However, Winston continued to whisper to Angela about how he thought this was a bad idea. You’d already made your mind clear the moment Angela stated where they were going. It might be for a selfish reason but damn you if you were going to sit back and watch while your friends were in possible danger out on the field when you could be doing something.
Once aboard you suited up with the extra equipment, finding the heavy armour suit was a bit heavier than you expected but you fit it well. You were made to wear a long-sleeve shirt and while you assumed it was for the weather conditions, Angela explained you needed to keep the light of your AFA hidden at all times. It made sense. In the night you would be an obvious target to those around you. When Angela had handed you a pistol her expression visibly faltered and you frowned at it, knowing well it meant she still didn’t trust you entirely. Though she did hand it over and you clipped it into the holster on your belt before taking your seat in the Orca for the short flight there.
Your mind was racing. The lack of sleep was overtaken by anxiety and adrenaline as you watched the ocean go past at the window seat. Five days. No wonder Junkrat hadn’t called you again. You wondered where he was, if he was alright, if he was injured. What about Hog? Was he alright too? He’s a bit sturdier so you assumed if anything he was probably the one taking care of Rat if the man was injured. You hoped they were both alright. The images of them injured in your mind was making your stomach twist and knot uncomfortably.
The Orca eventually came to a stop outside the city of Kastoria. When the land came into view you looked to see you were high in the sky above the city to find the night had already overtaken the snow-covered land. You took in a deep breath as the Orca began making its descent. As it did Winston began briefing the team over the mission. You listened intently, keeping your eyes focused on the gorilla as he began explaining the rescue that was going to take place. Ana and Soldier were together on the outskirts of the city, they were the ones to send the initial signal out to the main team. The remaining team members included Junkrat, Roadhog, D.va, Lucio, Baptiste, and Zarya. At some point the team was split and their locations were now unknown. Talon currently populated the city and everyone was now to be on high-alert.
As the Orca lowered down on a roof of one of the buildings you looked out the window to see Soldier and Ana standing near the edge waiting with a few injured agents being cared for by the one remaining medic. Among the injured you spotted Pa. You swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat as the ship settled and everyone was allowed to depart. As you climbed from your seat and looked at Angela you found she was looking back at you nervously, still unsure of how this was going to play out. You offered back a reassuring smile along with a head nod before joining her side as you exited the Orca with her.
Upon your arrival Soldier: 76 was not excited to see you. His distaste was verbal as he scolded Angela for allowing you on the field, stating this wasn’t the time nor place for you to start. Without the doctor being able to get a word in, you stepped in first to cut him off. “It was my decision.” He snapped his head to you when you spoke, but you stood your ground and kept a firm expression. “I’m not going to sit around and no nothing when I know I can be out here helping.”
He scoffed at that, “War isn’t some sort of game.”
“I never said it was.” You bit back the anger to sound serious. “I want to help where I can.”
Ana put her hand to Soldier’s chest to prevent him from speaking any further. “Enough. If she is here to help, then she helps.”
With the older medic’s approval you relaxed and nodded back as she flashed a smile to you before starting to brief the team with the information they’d gathered. You listened in carefully much like you had with Winston, head skipping a beat when it came to briefing the team on the junker’s whereabouts. “Their location is currently uncertain.” While the other team members had been located at an evacuation point, Junkrat and Roadhog had been cut off due to a building collapse. You frowned at the new information. “We will be sending a small rescue teams to their last known location as the building’s collapse has caused Talon forces to focus on Team A.” As the old captain said so, she looked directly at you with sharp eyes, obviously watching your reaction as you stiffened. “We will be sending the majority of the rescue team to Team A for retrieval. A smaller group will be sent for the retrieval of Team B.”
When you looked up to her, Angela had made a face at Ana’s orders, knowing well it meant you were going to be split from the main team despite stating before you’d stay with them. You looked back to Ana right as she nodded to you, “You’re with me.” She began heading south and so you followed, glancing back to Angela and Winston who were looking concerned for your safety.
To reassure them you flashed a big smile and gave a thumbs up, wanting to show that you still had spirit despite the situation looking grim. The rest of the team was left behind as you followed Ana, looking back occasionally and expecting others to follow only to find no one did. When they didn’t you frowned and looked back to her before jogging a few steps to catch up. “Who else is joining us?”
“Nobody.” She stated firmly. “So stick with me if you want to live.” Now you understood the looks Mercy and Winston had given. Your brows shot up in surprise but you nodded a few times to calm yourself. “If we need anyone else, we will call for backup.”
“Are you sure we’re enough?” You asked quietly.
“No.” She shook her head, “But a smaller team means less people to look after.”
You raised a brow, “Then why’d you take only me?”
She finally glanced at you suspiciously, “You want to find your friends, yes?”
“Well, yes of course I do but-” You stumbled over your words before she cut you off.
“Then quiet. Do as I say and we will be good. Do you understand?” The authority in her voice somehow reassured you.
You nodded with a growing smile, “Yes ma’am.”
The deeper you travelled into the city the more Ana began commanding you with silent hand gestures. There weren’t any people around as far as you could tell, but the wreckage in your path made it clear people had been here at some point. You kept close to Ana, trailing behind close as she hugged the walls and kept her hood up as she peeked around corners. You watched her back when she did so, keeping an eye out for any sudden movements or sound.
As the two of you hugged a corner you shifted your feet on the ground only to feel vibration rumble the stone path below your prosthetic feet. You tapped Ana’s shoulder, catching her attention and putting a finger to your lip before pointing in the direction the humming was coming from. Slowly, the two of you shuffled to the next wall and she peaked around the corner to find a running van with Talon soldier’s piling inside quickly. She put a hand up to order you to stay put and so you did, hugging the wall tight as either of you waited for the van to fill before suddenly beginning to drive away. As it did she ordered you to follow and you did so, jogging silently behind her as the two of you crossed the street to an abandoned building.
She peeked inside before waving for you to follow once more.
The cathedral was entirely empty of people, but equipment and the presence of people had been left behind. Remains of rations, empty ammunition cases, etc. You took note of your surroundings as either of you crept around the place, looking at the empty peer benches that were littered with abandoned, empty supply crates. Talon forces had just been inhabiting this building, possibly using it as a base of operations. You looked ahead to find Ana was nodding you to go ahead, so you did, entering the next room with your pistol drawn close to your chest as you peeked around carefully.
It was empty as well and you two relaxed and stood upright to get a better look of the map laid out on the folding table. It was a map of the city with various locations marked. Ana looked over it before humming, “We’ve already countered many of their locations.” She said whilst pointing to a few different marked spots on the map. “They must be retreating now after they’ve spotted the Orca.”
“It makes sense.” You nod, “Why are they here anyway?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out. This city doesn’t have much in it for the taking. We assume it was a good base of operations given no one thought twice of it.” She folded the map and tucked it away into her bag before continuing to snoop around the room. As she did you took watch of the door again, peeking into the empty cathedral with a frown. It looked so sad abandoned. It made you wonder how many other houses and buildings were left this same way. Empty, abandoned, and overrun with these crawling maggots that destroyed everything in their paths.
Ana clicking her tongue caught your attention again and you turned to see she’d opened one of the windows and was gesturing you to follow once more.
The deeper the two of you travelled into the city, the more Talon forces you were slowly but surely coming across. You were beginning to wonder if you needed to call backup, but it seemed each truck or van you came across was leaving the area. Eventually Ana gave her input, saying she believed they were going to the current source of action where Team A was. Right. The majority of the team is there and these stragglers out here are merely backup. You’d come across four vans now, but each one the two of you merely waited out before they finished loading and leaving. It felt wrong to let them go, but this was a rescue mission. Bringing unwanted attention may prevent you from finding the junkers at all.
So for now you kept a low profile as Ana commanded you when to move and where to go when you did. Each time you followed her orders precisely, finding once again they felt familiar somewhere in your gut. A part of your mind found it left a bad taste in your mouth. You weren’t sure what it meant, but this wasn’t the time to be questioning yourself all over again.
Each building you passed or entered was damaged to some degree. Many in this part of the city were almost entirely destroyed, their foundations blown off from the constant onslaught of Talon or Null Sector troops using shelling as a method of evacuating areas. You wondered where all the previous residents had gone. You could only hope they made it out alive if at all. Thankfully you’d yet to see any deceased.
Eventually, however, you were beginning to question Ana’s intent. You hadn’t seen any sign of Junkrat nor Roadhog… and she kept entering buildings looking for clues left behind by Talon forces. The sixth building you entered caused your stomach to churn uncomfortably as she shuffled through a box of disregarded bomb casings. “Are we getting close to them yet?” You asked suddenly, keeping your voice to a whisper as you stuck close to the old commander.
“Soon.” She stated simply.
Her reply made you huff. It didn’t feel like you two were going the right way at all despite not knowing where either of the junkers were. You felt like you were on some wild goose chase looking for a rabbit instead of a goose. “What are you searching for?” You asked quietly.
“Documents.” She glanced back at you, “Keep watch.”
Her order had you biting your tongue as you reluctantly returned to the window to peer out it. When you did you spotted a truck coming down the street and knocked on the wooden table to catch Ana’s attention. The old medic looked at herself before muttering a curse as it began slowing down at the front of the building either of you were in.
The two of you rushed to the back room and tried the back door to find it was jammed. She muttered something in another language under her breath and you tensed hearing the front door open as the talon soldiers stepped inside. Through the vibrations in the floor you could tell there were at least six and you gestured the number to her quickly. Ana looked around before spotting another window and trying it. You kept your pistol tight to your chest. As your artificial heart began racing in your ears you continued to glance back at Ana and then to the door continuously before finding she was struggling with the window. In a panic you stepped over, holstering your pistol to try the window yourself only to find the lock at the top had been welded shut. The footsteps in the building were beginning to grow closer.
With a quick glance to the medic and a firm nod you grabbed your pistol again to use the butt of it against the window. A hard hit caused the panel to shatter and you pushed the framing through, allowing an escape route that was quickly gathering the unwanted attention from the guards now rushing your position. Ana hopped out the window behind you right as the guards caught up, two aiming through the window to begin shooting. As bullets flew past you ran down the tight space in the alleyway with frantic breaths as adrenaline began pumping through your veins. You continued to glance back to see Ana was keeping pace, but she wasn’t the young soldier she used to be and it was showing through heavy breaths as she struggled to keep pace. The soldiers were quickly making pace, two following down the alleyway and continuing to shoot stray bullets at either of you as you weaved through the tight spaces in the deteriorating city.
With two behind you, the remainder of the soldiers had begun driving the car down the adjacent street to cut off your escape route. A curse left your lips as you pressed to the side to let Ana pass before aiming your gun at the soldiers following on foot. You hit the one in front twice and caused him to stumble backwards, but missed the next two shots as the other gained distance. Another shot was out of the question and you prepared to take the man head-on, charging at him directly and ducking down to dodge the bullet fired at you. With a hard smack on the head from the butt of your gun the soldier stumbled backwards and you took the opportunity to fire, shooting him twice in the chest. The other had recovered and you aimed at him, firing again to hit him twice in the leg before turning to run again.
Ana was waiting at the end of the alleyway, gesturing to you to follow quickly and leave the two soldiers for life or death. You weren’t sure if you killed them or not and in the moment didn’t care as you raced to catch up to Ana. Right as you did you looked to see the van from before pulling up to the alleyway exit. You both turned around and began running back the way you came, having to jump over the two wounded soldiers slowly bleeding out onto the pavement before. When you did, one grabbed at your leg and you kicked as hard as you could, hitting him right in his head hard enough for his body to go limp and unconscious.
Your breaths were hard and heavy as you both made it back to a different alleyway exit that led out to the street. Ana gestured to you to follow as either of you continued to flee from the tailing Talon soldiers. There were only four left, you both could probably take them on if you wanted to but it seemed the old medic wanted to flee rather than fight. It confused you dearly as you kept pace with her, following her to the next street over where you both finally hid down in another building. You took the opportunity to reload your pistol and whispered to her as you did, “Why don’t we take them on?”
“We’re not trying to draw any more attention.” She huffed, “Besides. There is no need to fight someone we can avoid.”
“Doesn’t really look like we’re avoiding them well.” You scoffed and shook your head. “Where are we going? I thought we were going to locate Junkrat and Roadhog. We’ve just been on some wild goose chase for documents?” At that your commander gave you a sharp glare with her one eye before jerking her head for you to follow again. You did, still feeling bitter as you put your pistol down into the holster again. Wherever Ana was leading you, you didn’t feel that it was the right way.
At least it seemed you shook the soldiers from your tail for now. You were still bitter as Ana continued to search the houses, however, looking for documents and whatever else she could find in the meantime. You continued to keep watch as ordered, but now with a newfound spite beginning to eat away at your gut. The only reason you came on this mission was to find your friends, not paddle around looking for documents and running away from Talon forces that you could ‘avoid’ despite your commander putting you right in the middle of their path.
However, Ana eventually led you to a large building that was surrounded by Talon forces.
Upon seeing it you glared at the woman as she pointed to it and stated, “In there.” She whispered to you and began walking whilst crouched along the walls of the street barrier. You followed begrudgingly, occasionally peeking behind you to see if there were anyone watching only to find the coast clear. Eventually the two of you came to a stop now closer to the building and Ana took the opportunity to scout the area, “We need to get in there.”
“Are they in there?” You muttered.
“Doubt it, but the information we need is.” She nodded. “If we sneak around we can get in through the back.” She looked back at you and nodded her head in the direction to go.
With a hard swallow you led onwards in the direction given, keeping low by hugging the wall to make your way around the building slowly. As you did more guards slowly came into view, making you stop in your tracks numerous times in order to avoid them. Ana was insistent you continue onwards, however, gesturing to go as soon as the coast cleared and not waiting a second longer. You weren’t sure what information was so great that you two needed to risk your lives for it, but it better be good. You were questioning what the hell this woman was on. She hadn’t mentioned this in the briefing earlier, so this was obviously some sort of side duty she decided on her own. Either way, you weren’t liking it. You were spiteful and angry at the woman for leading you on deceivingly, but you felt talking back wasn’t going to get you the respect you so desperately craved. Maybe if you weren’t along with it and got the mission done, she’d tell the others that you were trustworthy? At least those were your pity hopes. Chances are this mission might be personal and she’s leaving you in the dark on purpose.
You two eventually make it around safely to the side of the building where you watched as Ana aimed her pistol at the guard keeping a close watch on the rear entrance. It was your surprise when she fired the silent gun, hitting the guard square in the neck with a sleep dart that knocked him out in mere seconds. Then she began running ahead and you followed suit, keeping close as she entered the back entrance of the building and ducked down to avoid the camera above the door. You swallowed nervously, keeping your eyes fixed on it as it swivelled from side to side before eventually staying put in one spot to allow either of you two to cross unnoticed.
Ana gestured for you to stay guard at a door before she sneaked inside, leaving you crouched at it and watching for any guards that might come. You were sweating bullets as you watched, throat tighter than a hairband as you attempted to keep your breathing to a minimum. Ana was in the room searching the drawers of the office, shuffling through them and making a mess as she searched through papers frantically. You glanced back a few times at her to see her progress only to find the room dirtier with each passing moment. She was cursing to herself, teeth gritted as she attempted to find something. You just wish you knew what it was.
An answer would come as she found it, coming back with a stack of paperwork that seemed to have hand written notes taken down messily on notebook paper. She approached behind you, looking over the papers a few more times before tucking them away into her bag neatly. You finally took the moment to ask, “What are the papers exactly?”
“Coordinates.” She grinned, “Locations of towers in the area.”
You raised a brow, “Like a signal tower?” When she nodded you gave a little ‘hm’ as you thought on it before asking. “Is there one nearby? That’s why communications are blocked?”
“Precisely.” She confirms with another nod.
Now that the information is finally given to you, you suppose the mission was worth it, but it still annoys you that she kept the details to herself for so long. Had she given them to you before, you would’ve felt more compelled to help willingly rather than feeling as if you were being dragged along. “Could’ve told me that sooner.” You said through a whisper, “Are we clear to go?”
She gave a nod right as the sound of an alarm blaring startled both of you. “Shit!” She cursed, pushing you aside to peek out the door to see guards beginning to flock into the building. “We need to move, now!”
With that you follow close behind as she begins to make a run for it. Your brows shoot up in surprise as all care for secrecy is thrown out the window now that guards are beginning to fill the surrounding ground. The alarm is loud and blaring, red lights flashing in the hall as either of you run back the way you entered. The door is still open and when Ana pushes it open two guards are outside waiting. You take the initiative to fire, pulling your pistol to hit the first soldier in the chest twice before aiming for the next. However Ana is faster and one well-aimed sleep dart to the neck takes him out in seconds. She begins running again, holding her back and rifle close as either of you begin hightailing it out of there.
You’re struggling to keep up now, finding the old medic has far more experience in fleeing than you could’ve imagined. Bullets are following each footstep as you duct down, trying to keep low and hug the walls as either of you take a different route than you’d entered to avoid more soldiers. Ana is ahead of you and gives gestures as to which way you need to prepare to turn, stumbling over your own metallic feet at the sharp turns as the buildings begin to wind and fold in the city. You can hear guards following close behind and the bullet fire being shot down the corridor is growing closer as you struggle to keep pace through gritted teeth.
Then a sharp, wailing pain floods your side.
The impact of the bullet has you stumbling forward and reaching back to clutch the spot, finding blood is beginning to pool out of the new wound quickly. You manage to keep your legs moving, however, but look ahead to find Ana is no longer in sight. Without knowing which way she went you take a left only to find your commander is nowhere to be seen. It was too late to turn around now that there were soldiers on your tail, so you continue ahead in hopes you may come across her once again in the winding buildings. The gun wound doesn’t stop you from reaching down to grab your pistol and aiming back at the guards, hitting the few two in their legs before the third trips over their fallen bodies to join them on the ground. With no one chasing you, you're able to make it out to the street where you continue to run ahead without looking back this time. The throbbing pain in your side doesn’t leave as you pant harder, blood soaking your sweater as you attempt to apply pressure to the wound the best you can.
Eventually the flaring pain in your thighs causes you to come to a stop and hunker down in the first open building you come across. You slip inside and collapse against the door with a loud groan as the pain finally catches up. Your side felt as if it were on fire and as you feel around it, you find the wound is already beginning to heal up. Before you’re able to do anything about it, however, you hear the sound of a gun cocking and look up to see the barrel of one is now eye-level with you. You can’t see anything past it as you take in a sharp breath, staring at the end of the gun now aimed directly to your face. However, it lowers and you look to see a large mountain of a man is standing there. He’s covered in blood that’s staining his sweater along with soot and dirt, but the way his stomach drops looks as if he’s almost relieved to see you.
And you’re relieved to see him.
Roadhog stares down at you in silence before he holsters his gun back to his belt with a grunt. He chuckles deeply and offers you a hand up, “Scared me.”
“Scared you? I almost shit myself.” You smile back and give a relieved laugh yourself, taking his hand willingly only to hiss at the pain in your shoulder. As you're hauled up your mind quickly picks up the pace and looks past Roadhog and into the building behind him. “Is Rat here?”
He nods right as you hear the sound of clambering before Junkrat appears from the backroom with his gun drawn and ready. “You get’em!?” He shouts, brow raised and twitching as he looks past his best mate only to see your disgruntled figure. A big smile crosses his features as he runs up to hug you, “Good lord woman, ye’ scared me! Thought you were one of those Talon fuckers!”
As relieved as you are to see him, the hug causes the pain in your side to flare again and you suck in a sharp breath, hissing and putting your hand to his shoulder to push him away. Junkrat steps back, looking confused and now drawing the attention of Hog who’s already beginning to look you worryingly. You swallow through a shaky breath as you pull your hand away from your side to see it’s covered in blood. The sight doesn’t cause the shakes you’d normally expect, instead dreading the idea of what was to come next.
“Oh shit. That’s not good, sheila…” Junkrat frowns, panic showing on his face as he looks to Roadhog for help. The silent junker is staring at you again, shoulders stiff with tense nerves as he silently debates on what to do.
When the man goes to touch you, you stop him by putting a hand up to him. “Wait, wait. Look, it's already healing. I just need to get the bullet out.” You swallow again, taking slow and shallow breaths as sweat beads from your forward. Once again you curse yourself. Healing fast is a nice bonus, the rapid pain is not. You know it’s best to keep the bullet in until someone can properly remove it, but with how fast there’s no need in keeping it in. You could dig it out now, get cut up some more, but be relieved it’s gone. Besides, you can get antibiotics from Angela if you need them.
Rat looks confused, but Roadhog merely nods and steps off for a moment to fetch something from the back of the empty home. “What ya’ mean it’s already healin’?” He asks through a confused whine as you push past him to the kitchen table pressed up to the wall. You learn your weight against it with a relieved sigh, trying to restrict the unintentional pressure you were putting on your side whilst standing.
“Look, Rat, I really don’t want to explain right now.” You frown, hating that you have to leave him in the dark but the pain is eating away as your sanity right now. “Just know I heal real fast, alright? Please, get me something to bite down on.” Junkrat’s no help as he stands there dumbfounded when Roadhog returns with clean hands, a clean damp rag, and a combat knife that seems to be wiped down as well. You take one look at it and know this isn’t going to end well. “Here,” You offer him your hand. “Just give it to me. I can do it.”
Roadhog takes a minute to look you over before shaking his head. He makes a gesture that signals you to stand again, wanting your compliance this time and not wanting to force it. You do reluctantly and allow him to lift you, causing you to hiss in pain once more as he lays you down flat on the table. As hard as you try not to panic, you’re beginning to as you look at the dimly lit ceiling above you and question if this was the right call or not. Looking at the ceiling again now, it takes you back to the time on the operation table. The thought causes your body to break out in a cold sweat. Large hands slowly help you out of the armoured vest that’s quickly disregarded to the floor before your sweater is peeled back. Not caring for decency in the moment, you ignore the embarrassment flooding the back of your mind as your stomach and lower chest are exposed to the man preparing to operate on you. The cold air hitting heated skin causes you to shiver. Dried blood causes it to stick to your skin and you hold back a painful whine as he pushes your sweater out of the way. Junkrat is watching in surprised silence as Hog takes the initiative to wipe down the area with the damp rag. You hiss in pain once again and cringe as he cleans the area to the best of his ability.
When the knife comes into view you flinch, causing Roadhog to hesitate before taking his belt off. He places it to your lips and you swallow one again before biting down on it willingly. It was a distraction you needed and possibly one that’d save you from some pain down the road. Once you give a nod he starts, one hand keeping the wound open while the other skillfully works the knife into the flesh. The onslaught of pain causes your jaw to clench and you bite down on the belt, tears welling in your eyes as your hands look for something to grab. One hand comes down on Roadhog’s arm where you dig your nails into his forearm, letting out a muffled, painful moan as he manages to cut down deep enough to hit the bullet. The grab causes him to tense, the muscles in his defined arms flexing as he attempts to keep his hands steady despite the pain you were unintentionally inflicting. Once he’s deep enough, he tilts the knife to get an angle before jerking upwards, causing the bullet to come popping out with ease.
In mere seconds he brings his hands away, allowing the wound to go untouched and for blood to pool down your side from the hole. The relief causes you to take in a deep breath, releasing the belt through your teeth and allowing it to fall to the floor besides the table. Your hand keeps a grip on Hog’s shoulder as he wipes the area with the cloth once again before beginning to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. Now covered in sweat you look up to him and give an awkward laugh due to Junkrat’s worried expression. “I’m fine, Rat.” You swallow and whine again when Roadhog presses down again to keep pressure. You hiss, “Jesus fucking christ… that one hurt.” Talking is keeping you distracted from the pulsing pain that causes your muscles to jolt forcibly.
“Fuckin’ sounded like it, mate!” Junkrat gives a cackling giggle as he peers over Roadhog’s shoulder curiously to see what he was doing. “How’d ya’ get shot anyway?” His brows twitch, “We need to teach someone a lesson in common decency?!”
“I was running away from those Talon fuckers you mentioned before.” You chuckle, still breathing hard as your grip slowly releases on Roadhog’s forearm, but you don’t pull your hand away yet. Instead you leave it there to keep yourself grounded, focusing on how warm he feels beneath your frost-bitten fingertips. “I’d love to, but we might as well blare a siren if we were to try that.”
Now that the situation at hand is growing calm, Roadhog tilts his head up and looks at you. “Why you’ere anyway?” He huffs, his hot breaths causing steam to exit the ports on his mask.
“Why do you think?” You give a cocky grin as Junkrat’s brows shoot up in surprise. “I came looking for you two idiots, but Ana thought it’d be best we detour first. It’s just a chance I came in here.” As you swallow down a dry throat you wince when Roadhog readjusts his grip to apply more pressure. Your body jerks from the sudden pain that shot down your spine and caused bolts of blue static to flicker from your exposed fingertips. “Augh, fuck me, careful Roadhog.” Your sudden movements have Junkrat butting his way in closer to be at your side.
“Careful ya’ drongo! You tryn’a kill her!?” He shrieks through an angry snare right before it drops as Hog jerks his head threateningly.
“Stop it.” You weakly bring a hand up to smack at Junkrat and shoo him away from Hog’s face where the two were previously having a silent stand-off. “Hog, you just forget how strong you are sometimes.” This back and forth arguing isn’t helping distract you from the pain. “How did you two even set up camp here anyway?” You take the opportunity to change the topic in an effort to keep talking, wanting to continue the distraction that had previously been working.
The question causes Junkrat to begin rambling on about their ‘grand adventure’ here in the city. He starts from the point of them entering with the rest of the team, making you momentarily regret your decision as he continues to tell you every tedious detail that comes to mind. The story is at least keeping you distracted as Roadhog applies pressure again, but it drones on for far longer than you’d like as he re-tells the story of the ambush trap the two of them did on a Talon unit well over a week ago. Then he begins to explain the communication issue the team stumbled upon only after splitting up in an attempt to cover more ground to locate the target. He explains during a firefight they’d split from the team assuming they were all going the same direction, but were cut off due to a building’s collapse.
The story comes to an abrupt stop, however, when Junkrat suddenly shrugs. “So we then decided to wait it out til’ they found us. Seems easy ‘nough. And look! It worked!” He’s overly proud of himself, standing proud with both fits to his waist as he poses.
“Well you had me scared shitless you fucking pricks.” You groan and rest your head down to the table as you rub small circles into Roadhog’s forearm with your thumb. “Thought you two were hurt out here or something.”
There’s a moment of silence again. It fills the room with tension and as you peek up to look at Junkrat, his face is practically glowing red. “You were worried for me?” He smiles slowly, each crooked tooth peeking past his lip in haste as he smiles wide. The smile, as cute as you found it, was put to a sudden stop when Roadhog’s fist came into view.
Your brows shoot up as the man is ruthlessly suckerpunched by his companion. It’s hard to make even you wince as Rat stumbles backwards before shaking off the punch as if it were nothing. It probably happens so often that it really isn’t anything to him. With a soft chuckle you shake your head and correct him, “Both of you.” Rat flashes the brute a sour look before rubbing his cheek as he returns to the table. “Don’t get me wrong I know you can take care of yourselves, but admittedly… I think I was just missing you.” Your shoulders relax as the pain in your side is finally beginning to die away.
Either of them are silent as you gently push Roadhog’s hand away to reveal the wound has stopped bleeding. It’s already looking less-red too, the swelling already being brought down to a minimum as your body makes quick work in recovering. “There. Good to go.” You spot Junkrat looking shocked again as you gently press past either of them to hop off the table. Doing so causes a sudden sharp pain in your side and you hesitate before gently rubbing the still swollen part gently. “I’ll be fine.” You sigh, tugging your sweater down to cover your side again before grabbing the vest off the floor.
As you suit up once again, Roadhog takes the opportunity to do the same with the belt he’d lent you. There’s visible teeth marks permanently etched into the part you bit down on and thinking about it makes you feel a bit guilty, but there’s no time to apologise right now. “We need to get moving and locate Ana.” Your words come out in a more demanding tone that you’d meant, but either are listening seriously now as you fasten the vest back into place. “The radio signals are still being intercepted so trying to get a call out isn’t going to happen. Besides, we were split up and while she’s a hardened veteran, there were a lot of them out there.”
The two seem to agree wordlessly and suit up themselves, retrieving their belongings from the house to strap them to their sides. You keep watch at the window, looking to see any sign of movement out on the streets and thankfully finding none. By the time you look back either are strapped with their usual arsenal of weapons, but given this is the first time you’d ever seen them geared up completely… it was definitely a takeback. They both looked somehow more serious than ever, especially Junkrat who was itching to smile wide as he clicked a belt of ammunition around his waist
With no words spoken you take the lead, gesturing to them to follow as you make your way back to the route you’d previously taken. This time moving much slower now that the adrenaline was wearing off, but still keeping a good pace back with your eyes peeled for any signs of Ana. Occasionally you glance back to see the two are still following close, Junkrat in the middle with Hog breathing hard in the back. You feel bad for the old man for merely a moment before you come to think of the fact that he’d been doing this for years. Sure, Hog was a big guy but he still had plenty of life (and muscle) to keep pace with easily. You just wished his footsteps, along with Junkrat’s occasional cackling giggle, were quieter. Though you did think it was probably going to be hard to be “sneaky” in any way given these two were known for being the walking embodiment of destruction.
After a bit of the light jogging you come across the alleyway where you’d taken down your assailants. Their bodies are gone but a sickly pool of blood is left in their wake. You take the initiative to press onward, keeping low to the ground and trying your best to keep quiet in hopes the two following you would do the same. Surprisingly, the junkers manage to keep a low profile as the three of you head down the tight corridors and to the spot you’d initially lost track of the medic. You look left and then ahead to the two options, surveying the area for any signs of movement before Roadhog’s grunt catches your attention. His hand comes into view as he presses himself to Rat’s back, allowing the space to confine as he points ahead to an empty dart shell lying next to a few garbage bags ahead.
Your brows shoot up and you rush ahead, kneeling down to examine the sleep dart casing. It’s empty and when you pick it up a drop of the fluids dribbles out onto the ground. A theory of what happened begins to form in your mind as you glance back and then ahead again before signalling that you were moving forward. Ana must’ve come back for you and gotten into a firefight. You were now hoping she’d left behind more clues as to where she went. Without them it may just be impossible to find her in this damn maze of a city. You stumbling across Junkrat and Hog was merely a stroke of good luck, Ana was known for her stealth. The woman lived off the grid for years. For all you know she could be grouped with the remainder of the team off at the Orca waiting on your dumbass to catch up.
Though given she had come back to look for you, you doubt it.
So you press onwards and begin running down the long corridors behind the buildings, taking notes of the small details as you turn corners to find boxes knocked over and windows cracked from bullet holes. Each little detail is another clue that you take in carefully to weigh your options as to which direction you need to be leading your unit. The two soldiers behind you aren’t the best trained, but they’d make due for your current objective. Rescue missions are standard and all operatives should be aware of the common procedures whenever going about one. Take detailed clues to where your target could be headed as well as taking note of one's surroundings to assure a safe route back in need of evacuation.
“Oi.” A voice behind you catches your attention and you whip your head around to find Junkrat’s looking at you with a brow cocked. “Yer’ stiff.” He gives a small huff as his brows knit together in confusion.
The three of you came to a stop in the alleyway as you stared back shell shocked. Your mind had gone blank for a minute there, but you could still recall every thought you had in the span of time there. It felt… artificial. “Nervous.” You lie through hushed words as you look ahead again and let out a breath. “It’s my first mission after all.” It doesn’t feel like it.
“Ya’ need ol Jamison to take the lead?” He gives a little giggle and starts nudging past you, but your hand prevents him.
“No, I’ve got it. Besides, we don't need to run in guns ablazing.” The junker pouts at your order and you shake your head to clear the trickling thoughts. “Stay low.”
Once ahead you keep straight, leading the two down the tight streets and keeping your eyes peeled for any sudden sounds or movement. In the far distance the discourse of gun’s firing catches your attention and you go stiff, putting your hand up to signal the others to hold still as you listen in. Through the pads in your toes the vibrations come through more clear than your ears could ever tell you. “This way.” You nod your head, keeping your feet flat to the ground as you feel the vibrations beginning to grow louder as the three of you head towards the fight.
There are buildings blocking your path to the fight and you search for a way past, finding the first route is blocked by street cars and the next is blocked by rubble filling the east street. Right as you curse to yourself Junkrat’s whistling has you whipping your head around to see he’s pointing up, a big excited grin sticking to his lips as he nods his head over to where Roadhog is already moving ahead to climb the ladder. You follow, holstering your pistol securely before going ahead of Rat to follow Hog’s lead now as your unit gets to the high group. With Rat following beneath you on the ladder, you hear him muttering something to himself and glance down to see he’s looking away. There’s a pause when you stop and he looks back up, face tinting red before he gives another awkward giggle when you tilt your head.
Unsure of what to say or think, you decide to just move on from it for now given there are more important matters at hand. When you look up again, Roadhog is gone and the sound of his gun firing makes your synthetic heart skip a beat as you start hauling ass up to reach him. As you do, a body flies from the building’s rooftop and drops down besides either of you, leaving Junkrat to snap out as his companion. “Oi! Watch where yer’ aiming, pig-face! You tryna get us killed!?” There’s more gunfire and as you reach the top you come to find Roadhog is making quick work of the few Talon soldiers that were stationed there. It relaxes you to see he’s knocked the last one unconscious, the other two left a bloody mess against the rooftop where they’d attempted to run away.
From the building’s top you were able to see down into the street clearing, spotting the rest of the team down in the city below running from numerous Talon forces. There are multiple fires lighting the night sky. The city is in peril from the presence of Talon and Null Sector troops still continuing their raids in the area. Seeing it from the rooftop now, it makes you frown. It’s worse than you expected. Course you’d been watching the news to keep yourself updated on what was going on then and now, but the city of Patras had been under siege for numerous weeks by now. In person, it was so much worse. War wasn’t pretty or easy, you knew that, but somehow seeing it in person and knowing you were standing there in the line of fire yourself, it was a different feeling than just viewing it through a monitor. You could see survivors rushing to catch up for evacuation as more Overwatch ships came into view to collect them.
Squinting and putting a hand to your forehead, you manage to spot Ana running alongside Soldier. It momentarily relaxes you to see she’s fine, a breath leaving you and causing your shoulders to fall. Junkrat makes it up beside you and gives a throaty whine. “They’re havin’ all the fun without us!” He’s shuffling in his spot, brows twitching with annoyance as the three of you use the high ground advantage to get a good view of the surrounding area.
When you look back to the Talon soldiers, Roadhog had taken care of you and spotted one of them had binoculars strapped to their chest. You take them, pulling hard to snap them from the dead-man’s neck to use them. The team had been split three ways with Soldier and Ana on one street, Mercy and Baptiste together on another, and the remainder of the team sticking close with an unconscious Lucio draped over Zarya’s shoulders. More Talon forces are beginning to make their way inbound, a drop ship flying overhead to the street the team’s medics were currently stationed on to support the injured portion of the team.
After one last survey you spot a parked van a few streets over. At first glance it appeared to be a normal van someone might have abandoned on their way out of the city, but when you take a closer look through the binoculars you find there are wires draped beneath it and running along the sidewalk into a nearby house. When you lower the binoculars you find Junkrat is staring at you, seemingly waiting for orders as the three of you continue to hold your position on the roof.
“You two go ahead and meet up with the rest of the team.” The order leaves your mouth before you realise it, coming out clear and direct as you point to the street Zarya was on with the smaller team. “Meet up with Zarya and then head East to the connector to meet up with Angela.” Roadhog glances back at you and nods, but Junkrat seems too confused to agree quite yet.
“Wait, what about you sheila?” He fiddles with his grenade launcher, pulling it from his back to ready it as Roadhog already begins looking for way down. “Where are you goin’?”
Somehow his concern makes you smile, finding it cute. He looks almost like a lost puppy. “I’m going to head North.” You point to the van you’d spotted before, “I’m nearly positive that’s the location of the signal jammer. I’m going to deal with it first and then meet up with you afterwards. Just stick to the plan, alright?”
Rat hesitates again but this time before he can speak, Roadhog gives a loud grunt that catches his attention. “Let’s go.” Hog demands, pointing his thumb to show the way down off the building that involved either of them hopping down to an open balcony.
“But I’m usually the one to make the plans!” Rat whines but eventually gives, glancing back to you a few times before inevitably following along with his companion to the street below. “Fine, fine! We’ll see you on the other side, sheila!”
“I’ll see you there.” You smile back to reassure him, but your smile only comes off nervous.
To assure their safety you watch you for a few moments, keeping a good eye on either as they make it down to the street level before breaking out into a run to meet up with the others. The two of them will be fine, you conclude and clip the binoculars to your own belt before beginning to make your way along the rooftops. Given the area is mainly flat up top, it’s a good advantage to use to get to your objective in a more timely manner. However, before you're able to leave the first building you stop to look at the unconscious shoulder lying against a chimney. At his side a rifle had been tossed from his hands. You stare at it, mouth feeling dry as you question your own intentions before eventually reaching down to grab it.
Somehow, it feels natural in your hands just like it had back at the shooting range with Cole. You feel over it, finding it’s an older model but one you can still come to recognise. Without a second thought you take it, pulling the remainder of ammunition from the soldiers’ pockets as well before moving on ahead.
The street below is quickly filled with commotion as the junkers reunite with the team. Junkrat’s leading the two, cackling like a madman as he and Roadie reunite with a confused Zarya who’d whipped around to see where the explosives had come from. The city’s air is filled with dust and debris as the two wreak havoc in their wake. Despite their destructive nature the team is relieved to see they are fine as they assist Zarya with caring Lucio back. The medic is unconscious with only a bloody injury to his forehead that Zarya states is minor. The poor lad is definitely out of the fight until he’s patched up, but given that he’s still breathing, Rat doesn’t keep focus on him and instead aims to do as you’d ordered.
They make quick work of the Talon soldiers flooding the street, explosions shaking the earth’s surface as he lobs bombs towards them. Zarya shouts about being careful and to keep watch for civilians, but neither junker is in the mindset to assure the safety of others as they run head-first into danger as always
Eventually they meet up with the remainder of the team on the street over, backup forces making their way in through a dropship to assist the team. Upon seeing Lucio’s condition, Angela rushes to be of service to the man and thanks Zarya for her work as they load him into the Orca. Blockades and barriers are being set up quickly, but the pressure is beginning to grow with reinforcements coming in on enemy lines.
Upon seeing her, Junkrat flashes Ana a big smile and a thumbs up that earns him a confused reaction. “She’s all good, doc!” He shouts, resting the grenade launcher over his shoulder as Ana approaches.
“Who’s all good?” Her brows knit together as she looks around to see who the man spoke up to only to quickly put the pieces together. She’s looking around more frantically now, “Where is she?”
“Went on ahead! Somethin’bout dealing with a jammer?” He looks back to the rooftop in hopes of spotting you, but doesn’t see you in the distance.
Ana grits her teeth, “You just let her go ahead?” It’s apparent the old medic is worried sick, possibly feeling to be the one at fault for their prior separation. “Which way?”
An angry voice grunts to cut in behind her as Soldier steps up besides Ana, “We let the newbie go off alone?”
“I didn’t do anythin’.” Rat retorts already having a strong dislike for the older man. “She went ahead n’did it herself.”
“I’m saying you let her.” He snaps back, “You know full-well she is under suspicion and allowing her to leave your sight could be a damn death threat to us.”
Ana smacks her long-time accomplice to prevent him from speaking further. “Quit it. I already stated before that she was of good use before.” She sighs, “It’s my fault we were separated then but even then I could tell there was the will to fight.”
“She does not need to be fighting.” Angela had rejoined the six now that Lucio and Hana were safely loaded into the Orca, a tight and angry grip on her staff as she viewed the group. “If anything she should have never left the main team. As promised.” She shoots a glare at Ana who looks away ashamed. “Which way did she go, Fawkes?”
Before Junkrat could get a word in, Roadhog puts a hand up to the man’s mouth to cut him off right as he takes a breath. “She’s fine.” He grunts, earning an annoyed look from the doctor who’s gripping her staff half enough for the creases in her gloves to fold.
“She’s not fine!” Angela snaps, “She should not be out on this field. We are putting a civilian in the line of danger here.”
“She’s no civilian anymore.” Soldier states. “Once you’re through basic duty you’re an operative.”
“Basic duty or not; this is no place for someone who hasn’t even finished their training.” The doctor groans and shakes her head. “Ich bin von gott verdammten Idioten umgeben…” She mutters the words and shoots a glare at Roadhog before moving on for now. “Where are Winston and Lena?”
“They're still transporting the rescues.” Zarya nods, “What is our current objective?”
By the time you reached your objective the sounds of explosions and gunfire had seemingly died down in the adjacent streets. You’d dropped from the rooftop to the street level, keeping hidden beside a building’s street wall before sneaking your way towards the van. This felt all too similar to your time in the forest. You could practically hear Aron’s synthetic voice buzzing behind you to keep a positive attitude that encouraged you to go onward. The van didn’t appear to be guarded by anyone, but you were still suspicious and kept a low profile as you continued to approach. Learning from your mistakes you peeked around the corner to spot the cameras located on the corners of the van. At least that confirmed this was definitely what you thought it was. Your eyes followed the cords coming from the bottom and deciding to follow them, moved towards the building they trailed into through the side window.
You slid it open carefully, peering inside to see the inside of the house was empty aside from the abandoned furniture and layers of dust caking them. Slowly, you climbed in and kept your ears alert to listen for any sudden sounds. There was one, something that sounded like typing and humming. With silent footsteps you approached them, careful to draw your pistol silently and keep it ready in one hand as you peered around the corner to see what was ahead.
Sitting at a desk covered in wires, monitors, and whatever else, you spotted a woman there typing on a holopad. She was humming to herself, occasionally giggling to herself whenever she viewed something on a screen. You watched in awe as she summoned a holoscreen via her fingertips, sliding them across thin air and to the side as if she were working on a touch screen. There were multiple different camera views of the streets, many of the screens showing different Talon soldiers preparing at the corners of the connectors.
“Sombra.” A deep, throaty voice came out of nowhere and caused you to tense. You watched as the woman before you groaned before sliding over another screen that had an audio feed playing through it. “Have you located the target?”
“¡Te preocupas demasiado!” She mused with a smile, sliding the audio feed out the way to chuckle to herself as she pulled another screen over to show a collection of images. “Of course.” Among the images were a few various angels from a soldier’s body cam to show flashes of Ana shooting a sleep dart at him. “She’s here, but bad news, she already made it out.” The woman scoffed and inspected the images, a bored expression resting on her features as the male voice on the other end cursed in Spanish.
Then, suddenly, she sat upright in her seat to look closer at one image. She moved her hand up to flick the display, zooming into the background of one image. You peered around the corner to watch, eyes going wide as you realised the blurry image was of you approaching behind Ana in the picture. “Don’t worry, I think I found something even better.” The woman gave a big smile as she scrolled, enhancing the image quality to show a more clear view of you. Watching in on it now your veins felt cold, eyes wide as the woman inspected your image carefully before seemingly pulling a cube out of it. She flattened the cube beneath her fingertips, allowing a variety of files to rise and display in front of her.
“Hurry up.” The man ordered, “Ten minutes. You can bring the information back.”
“Oh hush.” She groaned loudly, starting to inspect the files curiously and giving a little ‘hum’ to herself. “What information? There’s none.” He gave a confused sound as she chuckled and opened the document further. “There’s no information for me to bring back.” There was a wicked and excited grin resting on her features as she began an attempt at comparing your photo to some sort of database. The screen was flickering rapidly as it tried to match the profiles, each picture reading ‘Not Found’ at the bottom of it before scrolling along to the next. “Impresionante, no puedo encontrar nada…” She muttered to herself as the screen flashed the words ‘Match Not Found’ in all caps. She hummed and looked over the photo of you and Ana a few times before swiping it away.
“Alright, let’s go.” She finally said with a huff and stood, swiping away the monitors and earning a grumpy response from the man on the other end. “Seven days here, wasted.” She scoffed as she pulled on a coat that was resting on the desk chair. “Well,” She smirked and snapped her fingers to look at the semi-blurry image of you once again. “Not all wasted.”
“Let’s go.” The man on the other end of the communicator demanded before a click symbolised he’d ended the call.
The woman that you presumed to be Sombra shook her head a few times before beginning to unplug things, grumbling to herself about ‘old tech’ as she shook her head and threw cords aside. She looked around the small office a few more times before deciding her work was done. Right as she began pressing a few buttons on her wrist you moved an inch to shift. Before you she began to disappear, a series of numbers displaying in thin air as she teleported right before you. However, right as she did your movements caught her eye and she jerked her head. The two of you made eye contact and she flashed a smirk before you blinked and she was gone. Her sudden disappearance shocked you, panic filling your system as you aimed the gun in the last spot she resided in only to find nothing but air. You began looking around the house, finding it was empty except for equipment left behind.
After unplugging the last few wires you went back out the window you came in through to see the van was still sitting there. There weren’t any guards still and you used that to your advantage to enter, swinging open the back doors with your gun drawn to see the inside was just as empty as the house. Except for at least the computer inside was running, the screen showing data of the signal jammer that was continuously pumping out. Unlike last time, you didn’t have Aron here with you to stop it. A frown tugged on your lips as you looked for some way to power it down only to find the power button simply didn’t work.
An idea popped into mind and you dusted your hand free from snow before placing it to the monitor display. You held your breath and focused, eyes falling shut as you tried to hone in on the energy buzzing beneath your fingertips. It was there. You could feel it. Buzzing and sparking, causing heat to flood through your veins in your arm. It was right there yet the harder you tried to focus on it, the more apparent it became to you that this would be far harder than you expected. Your teeth grit together as you finally hear a few sparks crackle off, causing you to open your eyes to find your hand was beginning to buzz to life. As the first sparks came the rest came even easier, energy expelling through your fingertips and into the computer monitor that was beginning to distort at the disturbance. You smile, expelling more of the energy and causing a large voltage to fry the computer in the process.
The van’s power stopped, the monitors flickering a few times before you pulled your hand away to find they’d gone dead. You looked over your hand a few times curiously, wiggling your fingers as the static caused them to go numb. Along with your hand your arm was buzzing too, blue veins already beginning to die down slowly as you calmed. It was definitely something you still needed to work on controlling, but the process is at least a start.
Right as you turn to leave the van something stops you dead in your tracks.
An odd, uneasy feeling fills your gut as you stare past the van’s doors to the concrete of the street below. A gut feeling is telling you not to go out. You weren’t sure why, but you simply couldn’t.
It felt as if… as if something, or someone was waiting for you.
To test this theory you grab the stool from inside the van and turn to the doorway, swallowing before you tossed the object outside onto the street. As soon as it got past the doors a bullet came flying out to hit it, knocking one of the wooden legs clean off. With the cover blown more bullets begin entering the van, the sound of a loud gun echoing off the surrounding buildings with each shot. Holes are entering through the van’s sides and rapidly, allowing the street light to fill their empty spots with tunnels of light. In a panic you begin to make a run for it, jumping from the van and landing on your feet where you begin to make a run for it with little to no hesitation. More bullets follow each step you take, ricocheting off the ground and hitting nearby windows as you run down the sidewalk to use light posts and abandoned cars as cover.
Whoever is shooting at you is doing a damn good job at keeping up, but you notice their sniper shots are spaced to only when you appear in open view. As long as you were hiding behind something they waited. You noticed this detail when you ducked behind a car for cover and to figure out your next move. Their shots came to a complete stop, but you could still feel as if they were there. Waiting. You swallow nervously, looking around to see if you could get the high ground and to match the level of your assailant. The only way up would be at the back of a building and given you were in the open street that simply wasn’t going to be of use right at the moment.
You debated making a run for it again, but stopped when you felt the rifle locked onto your vest’s back. Hesitating, you pulled it off and checked the chamber to see how many bullets you had before swallowing down a dry, nervous throat. Despite it feeling so familiar, you truly weren’t sure if you could shoot it. Something in the back of your mind was telling you, you could. You knew how to. Each part of the gun in your hands now was calling out to you. Though when you thought about it all you could see was yourself in the shooting range missing every shot.
The feeling in your gut doesn’t go away as you ready the gun and shuffle in your crouched position to get into a good position. Before you peak out, however, another idea comes to mind and you pat yourself down before finding the binoculars still clipped to your belt. With a nod to no one but yourself, you chuck the binoculars to otherside of the car and out into the street as a distraction. After you tossed the binoculars you peeked out and looked down the scope of the rifle towards the direction you last spotted the bullet fire coming from. On a building a few streets over there’s someone crouched near the ledge. The binoculars work and the enemy sniper misfires, hitting the binoculars and causing them to break apart from the force. You take your chance to fire, breath hitching right as they reload the barrel only to spot you within seconds.
When you pull the trigger the bullet flies out and hits the building’s edging right below your target, causing them to fall back and behind the ledge quickly. The sound of the gun firing as your ears ringing as you make another run for it, clutching the rifle close to your chest as you break out into a sprint back the way you came. Going down the alleyway wasn’t in your best interest, but getting to the back of the buildings was your current goal. As you ran down the alleyway more bullets followed your footsteps, ricocheting once again to bounce off walls to cause dust and snow to burst upwards. Each step has you zig-zagging, trying to keep your movements unpredictable as you reach the end of the alleyway.
Right as you do another shot rings off and echoes off the buildings before a sharp pain in your thigh shoots up your spine as a bullet passes through it. The sudden pain causes you to collapse, a pained yell leaving you out of shock as you fall face-first into the snow. Before another shot can land on you, you roll over just in time to cause them to miss once again. Unable to get up you fumble with your rifle to aim it from your lying position, each movement frantic yet coordinated as you aim for your target. As soon as they’re in your sight you fire, ears ringing painfully once again as the recoil causes the butt of the gun to slam into your shoulder. Once again you miss but hit the building’s roofing, giving you another opportunity to move as your enemy ducks for cover.
Pushing through the pain you force yourself to stand, jaw clenching painfully as you apply pressure to your thigh that’s damaged. Blood is pouring down it to cover your once white prosthetic in a thick red, staining the snow beneath it as well. Right as you manage to stand another shot rings out as you struggle to stand. Another spike of pain entering your shoulder has you gasping for breath and crying out from the impact. It’s somehow worse than getting shot before, possible due to the location but maybe due to the size of the bullet. The rifle in your hand is dropped as you stagger back, almost falling as you manage to keep your eyes open to look ahead. You’re left gasping for breath as you manage to roll along the wall and behind the building.
Now covered from any attacks, you allow yourself to let out a loud, wailing moan that causes your body to shake uncontrollably as pain flares through the left half of your body. Your thigh is throbbing and stinging with each movement you give as you force yourself to move, the threat of falling still in mind when you shuffle your way down the back alley. Using the wall as support you hobble back the way you came, taking slow and steady breaths to keep yourself conscious. Staying in one place will just result in your own demise, you have to move.
You can’t stop now.
The city’s gone quiet as Talon forced retreat and the Overwatch team pushed in with the native military to support the ailing citizens. Everyone is beginning to relax and search for civilians, bringing them back to the temporary tents set up in place as makeshift hospitals for the moment being until they are able to transport survivors back. Winston had taken over rescue procedures along with Mei and Tracer, leaving the remainder of the team to press in deeper to assure everyone had been evacuated where possible. Rubble is already beginning to be cleared by Zarya as she helps move the debris from blocked paths.
The cleanup in these situations is always the worst. Angela had seen all kinds of death and destruction in her time on the field, but it’s something most don’t grow accustomed to. Helping those who grieve for everything they've lost is always the hardest. They lose their families, their friends and their loved ones, but most importantly their home. Left in ruins they were forced to leave what they did have left behind in order to secure their own lives. It’s something she’d never be able to grow used to.
She along with the few agents not aiding the injured are searching the streets for any signs of Talon forces. Oftentimes they find soldiers who’d been left behind and take them into custody, the local law enforcement helping in their efforts by keeping close when they breach each building. Roadhog rounds up a few of them himself, tossing them onto the floor in front of the police officers before grumbling to himself about just shooting them. Angela states they have to investigate properly and he brushes her off with a huff.
He’s not too happy about the whole ‘rescue’ operation they’ve got going, but these are the terms he signed up for after all. Still, he technically works for Junkrat. Not that he’s particularly happy about that one either, but it’s better than saying he works for a bunch of suits. At least Junkrat sort of lets him do as he wants whenever he does. If it were his choice he’d be back off in Australia living in the outback. Although, to be fair, living at the base is kind of nice. Full service without having to worry about where the next meal was coming from was pretty lavish. Had it not been for Rat, or you, he would’ve gone (even more) crazy by now though.
“Oh! Roadie! Look at this!” Junkrat’s voice catches his attention and he looks to see the man is pointing to an old poster hanging in a storefront. It’s a wanted poster of either of them from their mugshots, listing their crime spree from their time in England a few years back before they were hunted down. “Just sayin’ mate, I think I looked pretty damn good in this photo!” Rat giggles as he crouches down to look at the picture. “You ain’t too bad yourself! Though er, you could probably use a freshen up.” He eyes Roadie up and down with one brow cocked. “When’s ta’last time you had a shower, mate?”
“Shut up.” He groans, knowing full well that Junkrat isn’t the one to speak when it comes to ‘freshness’.
Rat pouts at his companion’s response and nudges him playfully, “Oh I’m just messin’ withcha'!”
“Mm.” Roadhog gives a half-assed nod before moving on, brushing past Junkrat who quickly stumbles to catch up as he moves further down the empty street. His thoughts are elsewhere as he looks around for these so-called enemies he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for. It’s not his priority right now. He was more concerned wondering where the hell you were. You should be back by now, right? He wasn’t really sure what you were up to, but it couldn’t be taking this long. Besides, all of these Talon fuckers are already hightailing it out of here by now.
They continue walking for a bit until he hears something coming from behind them and whips his head around to see nothing except for the police force following their lead a few blocks down. He goes to look ahead again only to hear the sound again. It sounds like someone’s breathing hard and for once it’s not himself. Junkrat notices it too, brows rising as he looks around curiously to find the source along with Roadhog. The larger man shuffles towards it faster, one hand on his gun as he prepares to kill off the last few scum lying around. Then the sound of metal falling catches his attention quickly and he moves to look down the adjoining street to see someone had knocked over a trash can.
There he finds you stumbling towards them. You’re clutching your shoulder as blood pools from it, a trail of blood trickling behind you and falling onto the trash can you’d just stumbled into. Upon seeing them the energy in your body finally gives out and you choke out on a sob as the pain makes it to the back of your head. Roadhog races towards you, almost a full sprint as he reaches his arms out to catch you in his strong arms to lift you up without a single question. Blood is already smearing over him and coating his clothes, but there’s not a single care for it as he begins rushing back to the team. Junkrat is following suit, rambling on frantically about your condition as sweat beads down his forehead. His ramblings fall on deaf ears as Roadhog pays no attention to him, instead looking over your injured figure anxiously as you lean into his chest and pant.
By the time they make it back to the Orca there’s blood dripping down Roadhog’s arms and onto the snow, causing the others to assume he’s the one injured and shout that they need bandages but Hog shakes his head. Angela approaches, but as soon as she sees you shouts that she needs assistance before rushing to grab cause to stop the bleeding. Roadhog gently sets you down onto the table, pushing aside equipment as the doctor returns with a handful of gauze that she hands to Roadie, demanding he hold them as she takes scissors to begin snipping away your clothing to locate the source of bleeding. Behind them Junkrat is wailing about your condition, sweating like a madman as he asks Roadhog if you were going to be alright.
“She’s gon’be alright, right?” He rambles, “I mean s-she even said herself! She heals fast. She’s gon’be alright, right Mako? It ain’t that bad! We’ve seen worse, right?” He’s looking for reassurance that doesn’t come from his best mate.
“Quiet!” Hog finally snaps at him angrily, causing Rat to falter as he realises his companion is just as worried. He does, for once, and instead shakes nervously next to Hog as the two keep close to the table.
Once your thigh is uncovered she orders Roadhog to apply pressure and so he does wordlessly much like he had before, holding the gauze to your wound. It causes you to cry out in pain, eyes fluttering open for merely a second before falling shut again as your breaths struggle to keep steady. Ana has joined them now due to the commotion, looking guilt ridden as she asks Angela what she can do to help. “Help me find the wound.” She orders without question, allowing the other to move in closer as she begins to cut away your sweater to reveal your injured shoulder. More gauze is applied as Ana applies the pressure this time, frowning nervously as Angela looks for something.
“The staff-” Ana starts but is quickly cut off by an antsy Angela who hushes her.
“Nothing can be done until we stop the bleeding.” Angela states firmly as the three of them work on patching the wounds to the best of their abilities. As Roadhog presses down once again you let out a pained moan as blue, static sparks erupts from beneath your fingertips where you’ve been gripping the table. It catches them off guard and he falters, letting up on his pressure as Angela quickly grabs a tablet to hook a monitor to you. The doctor’s brows are knitted together in a mixture of fear and frustration as the monitor displays the AFA’s activity, watching as it’s beginning to spike. When he applied the pressure once more it peaks, causing the monitor to beep due to the activity levels as the sound of crackling energy fills the air. “Ana,” She looks to the older doctor who’s just as fearful and confused. “Sedation.”
Ana nods and takes her bloody hands away to fumble through her bag, tracing the stolen documents with blood as she struggles to find a dart. Though in the midst of a fuzzy mind you hear the word ‘sedation’ and struggle to lift your head to speak. Nothing comes out through your dried throat as you struggle to fight the pain beginning to flicker through your system. Your chest is tight again, breaths rapid as energy conducts and tenses the muscles throughout your body. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re conscious that you’re overcharging, but the thought of being sedated is sending chills down your spine. Your roaming hand finds Roadhog’s and you squeeze his finger weakly, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes before attempting to shake your head.
As Ana retrieves it from her bag a hand catches her wrist as Roadhog grabs her to prevent her from moving. Angela struggles to get a word out before pressing past Ana’a shoulder. “Sedation is a necessity to continue operating.” She snaps at him through gritted teeth and annoyance as he huffs. If you were to overcharge there was the possibility of all of them getting hurt in the process through static discharge.
“She don’t want it.” Ana doesn’t put up a fight as he takes the dart from her hand and holds onto it.
Angela looks down at you as your head drops back down to the table, “You must. You’re going to injure all of us and yourself, are you crazy?” She’s beginning to panic now as more energy is beginning to build, rippling off your skin in blue sparks whenever you take a shallow breath. “Please. I do not understand what you are trying to prove here.”
A frown tugs at your lips as your face contorted with pain as the two wounds keeping you down throb with pain. You can feel them healing. Slowly, but surely. It’s an odd feeling and one you would have never noticed had it not been for the adrenaline still making you hyper sensitive. “Give… give me a minute.” You pant, catching the doctor’s attention as you manage to look up at her. “I’ve got it.” Swallowing down a dry throat you take in a slow, deep breath in an attempt to shake away the numbness that had been slowly filling in the gaps.
After the initial incident on the ship, you’d talked to Alina for advice on how to control the AFA’s accelerated activity during times of stress. It was something inevitable given everyone was going to be stressed at some point in their lives, but you could adjust to it. You just needed to calm down and their panic was not helping you at the moment. Neither was the mention of sedation.
Both medics looked conflicted as they listened to your request and eventually Angela gave a hesitant nod before taking her hands away. Ana looks to her for confirmation before following in her footsteps to instead leave the bedside with a headshake, disbelieving this was a good decision. “Ten minutes.” Angela states firmly to you, “I’m giving you ten minutes until I make the call.”
You weakly nod in agreement whilst looking at her through hazy eyes before the doctor shakes her head once more before leaving you be. The pain flaring in your chest is still there as you look back to Roadhog who’s taken over the responsibility of applying pressure to your wounds. He doesn’t say a word as Junkrat steps closer, looking nervous for you as sparks of energy continue to crackle and pop off your exposed skin. Upon noticing you take your hand away from Roadhog’s, feeling bad you were zapping him all this time and wishing he’d said something.
“You gon’be alright, sheila?” His brows are knitted together with worry as he looks at your contorted face. “You’ll heal up, yeah?”
“Mhm.” You nod again, taking another breath slowly as you wince from another sharp pain in your chest. “I’m fine.”
“You’re an idiot.” Roadhog speaks up and you think that’s the first time he’s ever truly insulted you with meaning. Even Rat looks surprised.
“I guess.” You give a weak snicker that you quickly regret with a flinch before you attempt to relax down on the table once again. “Keep talking.” You look back at Rat whose eyes move to meet yours. “I need the distraction.”
Uncertain, he nods a few times and mumbles to himself before cracking a smile. “Ye’ missed the fight! Was real big! Me n’Hog took out a whole troop of’em. Should’ve seen it. They were screamin’ and crying like a bunch of babies.” He gives a cackling laugh that causes you to smile back much to the pleasure of his throbbing heart. “Ol’ Hog here threw one into the sewer! Wouldn’t wanna be that guy. All covered in slime and ick!” He made a face that had you laughing lightly as he said that. “Bet he’s gonna smell in the mornin’. Think his Nan will poke him a new one?”
“Probably.” His talking is doing wonders to keep you distracted. The pain in your chest is slowly beginning to fade away as your breaths come to an even medium. Pain still resides in your shoulder and thigh, but as expected both are healing fast. “You guys get everyone out?” As Junkrat rambles on about the poor blokes they did save, you take the opportunity to gently move Roadhog’s hands to check the wound status. Your thigh has finally stopped bleeding and you begin to sit up before Hog stops you, grunting something before starting to dress your wound with fresh bandages after discarding the bloodied ones. When he does you keep the gauze on your still-bleeding shoulder, wincing whenever Hog pressed pressure down to your leg to keep you from moving.
Junkrat’s still rambling by the time Roadhog’s done dressing your thigh and takes it upon himself to check your shoulder as if he’s Angela himself. You allow it, knowing well that he’s possibly angry with you and doesn’t want to argue on it. The bleeding has come to a minimum so he dresses it too, holding your arm out to roll the bandages under your armpit to keep them secure. Everyone’s covered in blood to some degree so that at least makes you feel better about not being the only dirty one, but god you feel disgusting. And tired. You’re exhausted. At least your boys are back.
As you sit up Rat goes quiet and you sigh, brows knitting together in pain as you debate on whether you want to stand or not. Without being properly given the opportunity to weigh each option, Roadhog suddenly scoops you up into his arms. It’s similar to how he’s done it before when you couldn’t walk the steps, but this time you take note that his grip is firmer than it’s been before. “Woah, woah! Big man where d’ya think yer’ goin' with me woman!?” Rat gives a whine, stepping around his friend to keep eyes on you as the two of you walk out from the tent and towards the waiting Orca where Angela has already taken note of your approach.
You ignore Rat’s comment about ‘being his woman’ to instead chuckle at it tiredly. “It’s fine, Rat.”
“It’s not fine at all!” He huffs.
You turn your head to rest it on Roadhog’s arm and look at Junkrat who’s struggling to keep pace with the rushing man who’s still carrying you. “You jealous or something? Wanna be carried by Roadie yourself?” The playful banter was meant to be joking, but you watch as Junkrat’s face lights red with an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It causes you to smile though and decide to take it further, managing to rub your tired face into Roadhog’s arm gently. “Ahh, Roadhog. So nice n’comfy. Like I’m being carried by pillows.” Roadhog gives a sound that catches your attention and causes you to glance up at him, but of course with the mask in the way you can’t judge his facial expressions.
“I could carry ya’ too!” Junkrat shouts, snapping your eyes back to him as he points to himself. “What ye’ weigh? Like three stone?!”
“Hah! I wish.” You chuckle, closing your eyes to rest your head on Roadhog’s strong arm as a sigh leaves you. “Besides, you’re nowhere near as comfy. All skin n’bone.”
To your amusement Junkrat gives a shocked gasp and whines out, “That hurt!”
The three of you enter the Orca and Angela goes to stop you, but decides against it once she takes note that you seem to be fine. Physically that is. Mnetally is another question and one for another time. For now she puts a finger to her ear piece to state that they are ready for take off, watching as Roadhog sits down on one of the ship’s seats with you in his arms. Rat sits too, keeping close and continuing the back and forth banter between the either of you. Judging by your expressions, heavy eyes and drowsy smiles, you’re definitely tired.
Soon enough they’re on their way back to Gibraltar. The remainder of the team will leave once all civilians are evacuated, but for now their work is done. Angela takes her seat next to Ana once they’re in the air and settled, allowing a moment’s rest as she lets out a long sigh. When she lifts her head Ana is looking back to her and gives her a gentle nudge before nodding her head in the direction of the trio across the ship. She looks, finding you are asleep in Roadhog’s arms as the man continues to hold you close to his chest protectively. Junkrat’s asleep too, leaning all his weight onto his companions as he snores surprisingly loud for his size.
“I do not understand them.” Angela states softly with a head shake.
Ana chuckles, “Neither do I.”
It’s quiet for a moment before the doctor looks down at the medic. “Do you think I made the right decision, Ana?”
“Hm?” She raises a brow.
“Letting her come with us.” She adds, glancing back at the trio once again before looking to her life-long friend. “Do you think it was right of me?”
“Mm.” Ana gives an understanding nod before merely shrugging. “I feel she did well.”
She frowns, “But she’s injured-”
“Everybody dies.” Ana states simply, “You can’t prevent all injuries. It’s a part of the learning process.” She hums, “Besides. She seems to be just fine to me."
Notes:
I hope this chapter was worth the wait, I know it's quite long.
(A little over 30,000 words might I add.)
I hope I fed everyone well! ( ^◡^)っ ♡I hope you are all doing well! I'm sorry I've been gone. I went on vacation but I'm back again! ^^
I love reading your comments thank you all so much for the feedback! (๑˃‿˂๑) It makes me so happy to see so many of you are enjoying this work! Thank you!
Chapter Text
“You can see’er later.” The male’s voice is harsh to the concerned doctor now rushing after him. She sprints to get ahead, putting both arms out to prevent either man from turning the corner that would lead them into the depths of the base. The larger of the two gives a low, throaty grunt that’s the equivalent to a growl as he dares to step forward towards the doctor.
“Stop!” Angela shouts, her brows knitted together in a deep anger as her teeth bare. “You can’t just take my patient without my consent. She has not been cleared for discharge yet.”
“She s’fine.” He grumbles, still holding your unconscious body close to his chest protectively. You’re covered in dried blood that’s coated his own clothing, but that’s the least of his concerns. The wounds have probably healed by now anyway; he’s seen just how quickly the first healed. Besides, he’s more concerned about you getting a deserved night’s rest. Given you were still limp in his arms and hadn’t woken to the sound of the orca landing nor the ongoing argument, surely you were exhausted.
“Move.” When Roadhog steps closer again the doctor holds her ground, fists to her sides with nails digging into her palms. Beneath his mask anger is beginning to build. He never did like the doctor and she wasn’t making it easy to keep on good terms with on your behalf. He knew well that if he were to make enemies with her now it’d only upset you further. “Send’er back later.” When Angela’s brow twitches he sneers. He repeats with a harsher tone, “Move.”
Rat has thankfully caught up to the two now and quickly moves in to ease the tension. “Er, listen doc we’ll send her back in later, yeah?” He gives a nervous, toothy smile as he steps in front of his companion to block him from the doctor. “Ol’ Jamison promise! Soon as she wakes up we’ll tell her to go’n see ya’. Sounds good to be right?”
The doctor looks between the two of them before stepping closer to examine your sleeping figure. You somehow hadn’t woken despite all the commotion of landing back on base. Even when Roadhog carried you past the yelling subordinates you’d still remain unconscious and pressed close to his chest. She didn’t exactly want to disturb your peace, but she needed to assure you were fine. “If anything happens, and I mean anything, you tell me.” She snaps at Roadhog and points a finger at him threateningly. “Or else I will ensure your comfort here ceases to exist.”
With that the doctor leaves and allows the junkers to continue on their merry way back to the lower deck. Junkrat watches her go for a moment before turning back to stumble frantically as he watches Roadie walk on without him. “Oi, Hog! Don’t leave me behind, mate!” He huffs, walking beside Hog for a few moments and taking note of his tense shoulders. Curiously, he leans over to peer down at you in the man’s arms. You’re still dead asleep, light breaths giving away that you were still alive and living. That’s always a good sign. “She alright?” His voice comes out nervous as he asks his companion cautiously.
Now that the two are alone, Roadhog speaks more comfortably. “Dunno.” His shoulders drop as he sighs and shifts his grip on you, tilting his head down to see your brows twitch whilst shaking your head. Ever since the call Junkrat had made to you, either of them have been worried. You looked like shit and even more so in person. He could tell it simply in your smile, seeing it was tired and drained. It was possible you were just pushing yourself too hard during all the training those schmucks had been putting you through, but your own words had concerned him the most. The panic in your voice when you said you hadn’t been sleeping well itched something in the back of his head. He knew how that felt and so did Rat. Sometimes life really eats away at one’s sanity.
“Huh.” It’s the only answer Rat gives as he looks you over a few more times before looking up to Hog. For a moment his expression is hard to read. It’s obvious he’s worried and Hog knows it, but given it’s Rat, he’s still trying to smile. “She’ll perk right back up though, right?” He attempts to give a grin but his creasing brows give away his feelings. “...Right?” Mako doesn’t respond this time, instead turning his head to look ahead to the stairs as either of them begin making their descent down.
It’s quiet for once as they enter their shared room. Junkrat is dead silent. It’s highly unusual and even concerning to Hog, but he knows it’s due to your condition. While you healed up quickly and seemed overall fine, he was concerned for your overall health. Moreso mental. He knew there were drawbacks to these sorts of things. Mutations don’t just come as a blessing with no consequences. He’s seen plenty in the outback to say so himself and given everything revolving around your case there were surely other issues underlying the situation. There wasn’t much he could do to help though. The best he could do was let you sleep and keep the doctor’s antsy hands off you for five god damn minutes. Maybe then you wouldn’t give him that half-assed smile you’d been doing.
He hesitates before setting you down on the couch and instead takes one of the blankets lying over the backside to cover the cushions from getting blood on it. He lays you down with a heavy sigh, watching for a moment as you twitch and convulse in your sleep. Carefully, he reaches out to touch your forehead to check your temperature. You’re warm, but he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions yet. It’s a lot warmer back in Gibraltar than Greece, you may just be heating up from the climate. He wants to strip down a few layers given you’re dressed for winter weather, but feels that’s probably not the best decision. Wouldn’t want you waking up with the wrong idea.
So instead he turns away and begins undressing himself, tossing his jacket into the pile of dirty clothes in the corner and rolling out his shoulders with a loud groan. He received a few new wounds himself during their trip, as did Rat, but due to that old lady with them they healed up fine. When he looks back to check on you, Junkrat is standing by the couch side and examining you curiously. There's still a concerned look resting on his features as he frowns, brows twitching as he looks you over a few times before snapping his attention to Hog after having felt his stare.
“I’m not doin’ nothing.” He says softly through a little grumble as his best mate keeps a close eye on him. “Just checkin’ on’er.” Another little mumble slips past his lips as he visibly deflates, “If you can then I can.”
Roadhog lets out a defeated sigh and gives, stepping over to ruffle Junkrat’s hair as he steps by. “Then keep watch. M’gonna shower.” He feels Junkrat’s eyes on his back as he steps off into the bathroom attached to the room.
Now alone, Rat plants his bottom on the floor besides the couch and folds his arms beneath his head to stare at you. The shower’s water cuts on and distracts him for a second as he listens to Roadie climbing in, but quickly pulls his attention back to you when a whine leaves your throat. He leans over, watching how your brows twitch and jerk. Before you mentioned that you weren’t sleeping well, is this why? He’s not entirely sure, but it looks like it. He goes to wake you but stops himself and remembers that they were trying to let you sleep here. Waking you would just defeat that entire purpose and you would have to go report to Angela how you were feeling. Right, right.
So he sighs and rests his head on the couch beside you. During your sleep you continue to jerk and twitch, hands occasionally jerking up only to hit the back of the sofa. These moments would cause the man keeping watch over you to jerk up in surprise and lean over with raised brows as he waits for you to wake on your own accord, but it never comes as you slowly float back into a sleep. He hates seeing you toss and turn like this. Nightmares were something Hog got often, and occasionally so did he, but he really never understood them all that well. The worse he’d seen them was the time Hog choked him out in his sleep, but that’s neither here nor there. Besides, he’s never seen you like this before.
You look so vulnerable.
Without thinking he reaches out to place a hand to your cheek, stroking the back of his fingers over your soft skin as a long, deep sigh leaves him. Then suddenly his hand is grabbed and his brows shoot up in surprise as you clench them. You’re awake, looking at him with an expression he’s never seen before. It’s fierce. One he’s seen Hog have in the outback. A cold, sinister look that leaves him staring back in shock and waiting for a blow. It doesn’t come, however, and instead your features soften as you visibly deflate back to laying on the couch. You're still holding his fingers, but your grip is gentle and caressing so he leaves it be.
“Sorry I woke ya’.” He breaks the silence through mumbled words as he shifts closer to the couch, still crouched beside it with all his gear strapped to his sides. “You feelin’ alright?”
As you look back at the man you manage to crack a smile at the worry wreaking havoc on his already crooked face. “M’fine.” Your voice is weak when you speak, your throat dry and scratchy from the lack of hydration. “You just scared me.” The nightmare is still fresh at the forefront of your mind, but Rat’s mere presence alone is enough to keep you distracted for now. Your hand is still clenching his fingers, your own feeling over the little cracks and knicks on his skin. Unlike Hog’s hands, his are far more calloused. Possibly from being so damn reckless all the time, but you doubt Junkrat knows what lotion is. “I’m tired.”
“You can sleep more, I ain’t gonna tell.” He giggles, shifting closer once again to rest his chin on the couch’s edge. “Er, we’re supposed to tell the Doc when yer’up.”
“Ugh… of course she does.” As much as you enjoy Mercy’s concerns, that's possibly the last thing you want to do right now. Sleep sounds great too, but you know well that it’ll just result in another nightmare to plague your thoughts. “I’ll go later.” You go to ask if he would mind if you stayed in their room for a bit to hide, but stop yourself at the assumption that they wouldn’t. Had they been you're sure you wouldn’t have woken up on their couch.
“Sounds good...” He nods a few times and rests his head further onto the couch, pressing his cheek to the fabric while he strokes his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s quiet for a minute or so. The only sounds being heard were your heavy breaths and the sounds of Hog showering from the bathroom’s open door. He chews at his cheek nervously, looking over your face a few times as you stare off at the ceiling amidst the silence. “You alright?” He already asked before, but he has the urge to do so again.
You slowly roll onto your side to face him, hand still holding his as you inspect his black nails curiously. “I’m really sore.” A slow breath leaves you and your eyes fall shut again. Even thinking about it makes the muscles in your back go stiff as a grim reminder. “And still tired… but I’m alright.” A little snicker slips past your lips and causes Junkrat to perk up a bit. “I feel gross. I’m covered in blood and I can feel my shirt sticking to my skin.” You snort, “I need a shower.” When you open your eyes to look at Junkrat again your smile has returned now that you’ve calmed. “You too.” He opens his mouth to argue, but stops himself and rolls his eyes with a grumble.
Coincidentally the shower stops as you mention it and the sound causes you to lift your head, looking to the bathroom door that’s still open. You can only see Hog’s shadow from your angle, watching as he scrubs himself dry with a towel that’s small compared to his massive frame. He also takes a minute to fit his mask back on and you continue to watch his shadow as he does so, seeing as he rolls his shoulders out afterwards. Soon after he appears in the doorway as he exits. He’s dressed in a pair of clean camo shorts, the usual ones you’ve seen him wear before, and his mask. It’s not unusual to see Hog shirtless, but it’s possibly the first time you’ve seen him fresh out the shower. While you’re busy looking him over, he’s taken notice that you’re awake and wastes no time approaching to put a massive hand to your forehead. The sudden action has you jolting in surprise, eyes looking up to him as he gives a little huff to signify he’s pleased to see you’re fine.
“I’m good.” You smile and go to sit up only to find Rat is still holding your hand. He gives a little look when you go to take it away, so you leave it be for now and allow him to rub his thumb over your fingers slowly. “I’ll head up to my room in a bit. Gonna wait until Angela clocks out for the night so I can avoid her.” You watch as Hog begins to give a nod, but stops himself not even halfway through. You’d grown so used to seeing his nods as answers that seeing him not nod feels like a bad sign.
“Stay here.” He suddenly orders, reaching out to ruffle your hair gently before he steps past you without even allowing you to answer.
Even when you do go to answer, Junkrat cuts you off as well. “Yeah, stay here!” His smile is all teeth as he perks up, sitting up on his knees as the hand holding yours gives a squeeze. “We can have a night in, just the three of us! A lil’ sleepover if ya’will!” He’s overly excited at the prospect and you couldn’t help but find his enthusiasm cute.
You go to argue, wanting to say you’re far too old for a sleepover… but this might just be your chance at getting a good night’s rest. Besides, you can sleep on the couch. “A-Alright.” You give in too easily, but they both seem to want you around and who are you to say no to a slumber party? Spending the night sounds better than having another nightmare alone in your room where you’d wake up to Aron spouting off about your physical condition. “Let me just run upstairs to shower and grab some clothes then.” You stand, finally letting go of Junkrat’s hand to help yourself up with a groan. The sore feeling is back and stronger than before, especially in your thigh that was previously wounded. You can tell the injury is gone, but there’s lingering spikes of pain that cause you to jerk in shock.
Before you get a step in something hits you in the face and causes you to fumble and grab at the fabric now hanging off your shoulders. When you pull it away you find it’s one of Roadhog’s shirts that the man has thrown at you. Confused, you look at him with knitted brows before realising he’s offering it to you. And only to go along with that, Junkrat rushes over to his side of the bed where he rummages around in his dresser before returning with a pair of black shorts for you. They’re still going to be too big, but at least they’re something and the boys are trying to be considerate. So you take the shorts with a little laugh and shake your head, “Fine. Fine… Jeez guys, had I known you wanted a sleepover this bad, I might have mistaken you two for teenage girls.”
Beneath his mask, Hog gives a snicker that shakes his shoulders and Rat goes to argue, but instead stops to think on it as if it were a valid point. You roll your eyes and take the two garments in hand, “Alright let me shower then. How about you guys find us a movie to watch?” Rat jumps at the opportunity, grabbing the TV remote to begin flipping through the channels and as you exit to the bathroom you hear them beginning to argue on what to watch. It’s not your first time in their bathroom, but it’s the first time you’d be showering in it. The amusing bit is seeing all of Hog’s products in the shower and then the one bar of soap Junkrat uses. It’s concerning, to be frank. Hopefully he steals Hog’s products. Both to keep himself clean and so that you stealing them as well doesn’t make you feel guilty.
Soon enough the water begins to run red as you scrub down the dried blood on your body. When you apply pressure to the new scars it causes you to hiss in pain, brows knitting together as you try to clean the area as quickly as possible. Thankfully there aren’t any open wounds left, but the pain is definitely still there. For now you just focus on getting clean, scrubbing and wiping away any blood or dirt. There’s a considerable amount. Even when you wash your hair out you’re surprised to find there’s muck in there as well.
The water’s clear tint is a sign that you’re finally clean. You take another look-over just to be safe, but eventually step out of the shower to grab a clean towel from the shelf. As you begin to dry yourself off, you wipe a spot in the foggy mirror to get a good look at yourself.
Scars are something you never expected yourself to get used to seeing. The three new ones now decorating your body were different from all the others. Bullet wounds were odd-looking in general, but these had you staring in the mirror for a good long while just examining them. Each scar was deeper than you thought, especially the two sniper bullets that had gone in one side and out the other. It made you wonder if there was any organ damage or if there had been, had your body already recovered from that as well?
It’s been a while since you stared at yourself in the mirror. You’re a bit more tan from all the outdoor workouts you’d been doing. Your hair had finally grown out some, but it was definitely shorter than you wanted it. Many of the scars from the crash had faded a good bit. They were still visible and littered your features, but they were slowly beginning to fade away as if they hadn’t even been there to begin with. When you stepped back you checked out your arms, finding they were finally beginning to show signs of muscle mass. At least all those workouts were doing you good for something.
Junkrat’s shouting snapped you back to reality and you sighed, scrubbing your short hair down with the towel before grabbing the lent clothes. You were able to tie the shorts to keep them up, but Roadhog’s shirt dropped down to your knees and bagged just about everywhere. It was comfortable though. Soft and when you looked at it in the mirror, cute. It had a little pachimari on the front with dumplings around it. The sight made you giggle. To think such a chaotic person could own something so adorable.
“Who wants to watch somethin’ like that anyway!?” Junkrat’s voice boomed in the room as you stepped out of the bathroom to see either of them fighting over the remote. Well, Junkrat was fighting for the remote. Hog was easily holding the man away at arm’s length with just one hand.
You snicker at the sight, approaching the two with your soiled clothes in hand as either continue to mess around like kids. “Are you two four?” As you ask the condescending question, Rat gives a shocked gasp as you step to the entrance to set your clothes down in a pile there to be taken up later.
“Don’t tell me yer’ siding with him, sheila!” He whines, looking at you with the puppy dog eyes as he attempts to grab the remote again.
“I’m not siding with anyone.” You give a little laugh and approach the couch, turning your head to see Roadhog had picked a penguin documentary to watch. “What’s wrong with penguins anyway?” At your question Rat practically flops back on the couch in defeat, visibly pouting as you make your way over to sit between either of them. “I’m fine with what you picked out.” You whisper to Hog with a smile as Rat groans and rolls over the arm of the couch to slouch off it. With a snort you slap his back playfully, “Oh cut it out and go shower! You’re starting to stink anyway.” As much as you liked how he looked with a black sweater on, he really was starting to smell now that you had the chance to shower too.
He shoots you a glare and stands, grumbling to himself as he makes his way to the bathroom to slam the door dramatically. It causes Hog to give a rumbling laugh before he nudges you, “Good one.”
You shake your head, “I’m not trying to be mean to him.”
Hog gives another silent laugh as he changes the channel back to the usual show either of you watch. He goes back to the episode you both left off and lets it play before standing. You watch him from the couch, tilting your head back to see he’s beginning to make tea for either of you. He’s even set a third cup out for Rat. “Oooh, someone’s being considerate.” You joke, knowing damn well he rarely makes Rat a cup. “What’s the special occasion?”
He doesn’t speak for a minute as he sets the electric kettle to boil before going for the tea bags in the drawer. “Got’a pretty lady over.”
The sudden complement causes your face to flush in a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. A hue of red has taken over your cheeks as you stare at the man’s back, taking note that he hasn’t looked to you or made a sign that he was possibly joking. Anxiety slowly begins to eat away at your nerves as the silence goes on. He’s making tea as if he didn’t say anything at all. So, nervously, you give a dry chuckle and try to diffuse the building tension. “Good one.”
“M’not jokin’.” He grunts in all seriousness without an ounce of hesitation breaking through the short words. He’s still not looking at you as he adds a tea bag into each cup before going for the sugar.
With no way to dance around the topic now it now, you turn to face the screen again, but your face feels permanently heated. Hog eventually returns to sit with you, handing off a warm cup to you right as his body weight causes the couch to creak. You take the cup, thanking him quietly before sipping it carefully. It’s never too hot when he makes it. The silence continues as you take a few sips, barely even focused on the screen let alone anything. His words are on repeat in your mind as you bring your legs up to cross them beneath yourself. He lifts his mask to sip his tea and you look up to him, taking note of his lips as he drinks.
You’ve seen the bottom-half of his face a few times now, of course. His lips are thick and you’ve spotted that his lower canines protrude far up to press against his upper lips. There are a few scars littering his lips too, but the one you’ve taken note of the most seemed to go further up one half his face. In a way it reminded you of the burn scar on your own, but seemingly worse given how it tints the skin a different shade. He’s got a scruffy beard that you’ve taken note of him trimming given how it was uneven and growing in white stubble along his chin.
Your staring doesn’t go unnoticed as Hog lowers his mask to look down at you, but doesn’t say anything. In return you don’t say anything back, silently wondering what the rest of his face looks like and if you were ever going to see it properly some day. The silence is beginning to eat away at your sanity. You can still hear Junkrat showering in the background, the water mixing with the occasional thump of his body hitting the wall. You slowly gather the courage to ask carefully, “You really mean it?”
You weren’t sure what you were hoping to get out of the conversation. It had your atomic heart racing rapidly, blood beginning to pump through your tired veins to rise flush to the skin in a thick blush now coating your features. The man beside you still makes no move as if he were going to speak or not, but his face is turned. You have his full attention.
An answer isn’t something you’d be getting tonight as Rat leaves the bathroom with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. The sight is a shock and causes you to jump in surprise, but you aren’t able to peel your eyes away from the man as he steps out with a fat grin. “Look at ol’ Jamison gettin’ all freshed up!” He announces and marches to his side of the bed where he begins ruffling through his messy dresser for clothes.
To give him privacy you finally pull your eyes away to the TV, only now suddenly realising how odd it was that the two of them shared a bed. Actually, you hadn’t ever seen them both in it- but surely they shared? It didn’t look like the couch had ever been made into any sort of bed for Rat before. Or maybe the man just slept sitting up or at his workbench. You’d never questioned their relationship before- so why were you so paranoid that you were intruding now? They obviously liked your company, right? Hog even called you pretty.
The thoughts had caused you to go stiff by the time Rat made it to the couch. He waves his metal hand in your face a few times, giving a puzzled look as he tries to snap you away from your chance. “Oi! You in there, sheila?” He asks, finally getting a reaction from you as both eyes look up to meet him. “There we are! You alright?”
You nod, “Yeah sorry. Just tired.” A weak smile makes its way onto your lips as you scoot over to allow him room on the couch, pressing yourself closer to Hog who in turn leans over you to hand the extra cup off to Rat. The man thanks him excitedly and begins loudly sipping away at the tea. For once the three of you begin to settle down in an unspoken agreement. It’s odd to hear Rat quiet, well, someone quiet. He’s still drinking his tea rather obnoxiously, but it’s nowhere near as bad as his usual chatter. Even when he does speak up it’s only to confirm what series you two were watching and then he gives a little, “Oh right right.” Before settling back down.
Squeezed between the two men you give a long, needed breath before reclining into the couch. Your fingers idly play with the rim of the mug as tired eyes stare off at the screen, barely even focused on the program continuing to roll. A hand catches your attention shortly after and you allow Roadhog to take the mug from your grasp, watching from your spot as he sets it down on the coffee table before propping his feet up onto it.
“Thank you.” You murmur, tilting your head to the side only for it to rest against the massive man’s arm. He moves to sit more comfortably and thus brings his arm up to lazily rest over your shoulders. The small act causes your face to heat again and you close your eyes, trying to suppress the strange thoughts beginning to surface. “Today sucked.” You say suddenly, causing Junkrat to snicker and nudge you giddily.
“It wasn’t that bad, mate!” He states followed by the sound of his own cup clicking against the coffee table as he puts it away. “We got out alive, right? Look, we even got our limbs! Or, erh, what’s left of’em?”
His nervous voice causes you to peek at him, finding he’s staring back with creased brows. He’s worried that your legs are still a sore topic. It’s cute to see him all flustered and embarrassed. You snicker, “Yeah I guess we did. I think the day Hog loses an arm or’a leg that’s the day we know we royally fucked up.” The joke causes the three of you to chuckle, Hog’s chest vibrating against your forehead as his body shakes gently. You lean into the sensation, finding your cheek pressed to his chest as you shuffle closer to him and allow your eyes to fall shut again. This is relaxing. No worries about getting out of a warzone. No thoughts of if you were going to explode at any second. No doctor to ramble on in your ear to demand you exercise and eat healthy. None of that. Just you and them.
“I like it here.” You admit, taking note of the way Hog jolts a little at your confession. With both eyes closed you take the opportunity to speak freely. “With you two, I mean. I like you guys- I missed you guys.” When they don’t respond you continue on with your drowsy rambling, entirely unaware of what your words possibly implied. “I actually found myself bored without you two here. I wanted to come down here and just sit. Even if it was watching Rat work or to watch some lame show I can’t keep up with, I wanted to do it just for the sake of doing it. I never felt so lazy in my life. Here I am trying to become a soldier for world peace, but all I wanted to do was lounge about with either of you.” Your throat begins to feel tight as sudden nerves begin building, a wave of embarrassment coming over you and eating away at your sanity.
“Is that selfish?” As you ask the question a warmth presses to your back as you feel Junkrat scooch closer. He’s nudged himself next to you and leans in to lay on you as you lay on Hog. You can feel a blanket pulling over the three of you and Hog’s hand brushes against your cheek as he tucks it under your neck. “If that’s selfish one of you tell me so I don’t feel stupid.”
“It’s not, sheila.” Rat’s voice is softer than it’s ever been and right in the shell of your ear where he gives a yawn before resting his weight on you. It’s comfortable. Just as comfortable as Hog’s hand that presses the three of you together and gives a little squeeze to Rat’s shoulder that you feel through him.
“Good.” You yawn too, rubbing your face further into Hog’s chest as you begin to fall asleep in your new bed.
Notes:
I'm sorry this chapter is so short! ^^"
I thought some fluff just fit best here. ♡
See you all next time!
Chapter 7: Tension
Chapter Text
A voice calls into the void.
“Hey, are you awake?”
It's a light one. The accents on the syllables ringing off with each pronunciation.
“Hellooo? Knock knock? Are we in there?”
The darkness slowly begins to melt away as you blink and settle the scene into a formed picture. A person is standing above you, bent at the knee and slouched as they knock on the helmet of your suit. When you begin to stir they give a grin and tilt their head, “There we go. C’mon, get up. At least someone’s alive around here…” She steps back to allow some room for you to begin standing.
As you do the rubble of the building begins to crumble off of you, falling to settle into the debris you were previously lying in. Your body feels stiff as you force it to move, standing to your full height with a groan as the weight of your very being feels worse than ever. Steam spouts from the exhaust ports of your mecha as you roll out your stiff joints and look at the woman standing before you. She’s dressed in a medic’s garb with a familiar patch on the armband that you can’t seem to make out. Her bag is slung over her chest and as you survey her, you take note of the bleeding wound on her torso that was hastily patched.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” She reassures having seen you eyeing the infliction. “Not that you would.” A half-hearted laugh slips past her lips as she turns and begins climbing down the pile of debris that you note seemed to be a building at one point. “You brutes are so quiet. Makes me really wish you’d at least thank the person who revived you.” You follow willingly, reaching behind to see what equipment was still strapped to your back. You find your rifle and most of your explosives are still there. “I know you’re probably sore, but I did the best I could. It’s better than waking up in a stasis chamber, right?”
When she turns back and smiles at you. It’s for only a second before it falls and she stands still to stare longingly at you. “You guys really don’t say anything, huh?” A frown tugs at her lips. “Anything. Say literally anything. Prove to me that you’re human. That you’re not just some machine I pulled from the wreckage.” When she stops, so do you, simply staring back at the woman who presumably revived you from where you’d previously dropped dead. She’s staring with a spark in her eye, one that’s almost spiteful as she sneers at your returned silence. “You’re no better than some damn omnic.”
The bite to her voice doesn’t leave even as she turns to keep walking, but as she does words continue to spill from her lips. “I don’t understand why he persists. Such a waste of resources that could be going to people who need it rather than some silent mecha that won’t even bother thanking the doctor that revived them.” She’s spiteful as she rants, walking far ahead and forcing you to keep pace. “I could be working on people, y’know? I could actually be making a difference, but instead I’m ordered to dig up some useless hunk of junk that costs me more time than I’m worth! The ‘next line of defence’ my ass. You can barely defend yourself let alone a watchpoint!” She spits on the snow-covered terrain and shakes her head. “Ridiculous. All of my talent- wasted on some damn lab rat!”
When she comes to an abrupt stop, so do you. Standing behind her a few feet, you watch as she lets out a defeated sigh and hangs her head low. “I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.” Her breaths cause steam to puff out in long streams. “You don’t get a choice in all this.” She turns, looking sour as she frowns and pities the person standing before her. “Even if you actually died there… You’d still wake up in some lab just to do it all over again, wouldn’t you?”
You stare back, watching as snow falls onto her delicate frame that’s slowly growing blurry with each passing second. She’s staring back with a look you can’t seem to comprehend. It’s a mixture of spite and deep regret all at once. The longer you stare, the blurrier her saddening features begin to grow.
You don’t give an answer.
Between either of you, it’s quiet, but your surroundings were filled with chaos.
Your focus shifts from her to the debris caving in from the rubble of what remained of the fallen city. Buildings are left mere piles of stone and metal, their frames standing with blackened bars that serve nothing more than to be a reminder of war. In the distance gunfire echoes from skeletons, reverberating off abandoned homes that once housed loving families. From the smoke filled sky you look down to find bodies littering the streets.
The woman before you stops over one to reach down and recover his dog tags that she slips into her satchel to join the others. She kisses her fingers and presses them to the fallen’s head, closing her eyes to mumble a prayer before stepping on. As you pass you look down to see the pain on the man’s face is forever sealed on his sunken features. You lift your head at the sound of a plane and look to the sky to see two fighter jets zip by, bright red gunfire decorating their wings as another plane follows suit. One plane begins taking a tumble to the ground and you watch in stunned silence as it slips past beyond your view, a trail of smoke following its wake.
“Keep up.” The medic demands, causing you to whip your head towards her to see she’s standing at the street corner waiting for you. As you hurriedly jog to her, you begin to ponder her words prior. She’d revived you. Out of all the people in this field, she saved you before any of them and now you were both paying the price. Her features are still grim. Saddened and looking solemn as she leads you from the bombsite. You take another look back at the area, to the spot you’d woken up to find the surrounding buildings had collapsed from the shellings dropped hours prior. Out of the soldiers stationed there with you, how many survived?
“Do you ever think about what we’re doing here?”
The sudden question has you taken back, but you make no sign of your opinion as she stops in her step to look at you again.
“The destruction caused by this war… it’s… it’s just horrible.” She turns to look around herself. “The people here, they didn’t deserve this. We’re taking their homes, their livelihoods.” Her shoulders slump for a second before she suddenly sits down in the snow-filled street. “I can’t do this anymore. I didn’t become a medic to collect dog tags. I thought I’d be saving people.” She brings her hands up to hold her own face before taking in a deep breath that causes her shoulders to quiver. “How do you do it?”
When she looks up to you there are tears filling her eyes. “How do you not think about it?”
You do. All the time. It’s all you can think about.
A frantic inhale causes you to choke on saliva as you stir from what was previously a good sleep now turned into a tense waking. You sit up, coughing hard to clear your throat as your eyes struggle to adjust to the new lighting. A warm hand touches your back, causing you to whip around and smack it out of shock. The owner, who happens to be a shocked Junkrat, jerks it back in surprise as you stare at him with wide eyes. You cough a few more times, looking down at the couch to see you’d previously been lying atop the man. “M’sorry.” You state through a few more coughs before you finally clear your throat and swallow.
A frown tugs on his lips as he watches you struggle to catch your breath, “You alright, sheila? You’re making me worry.” It’s odd to hear him sounding so concerned. It’s all over his face as he eyes you up and down, his bottom lip protruding slightly as you unknowingly pouts. “Never seen’ya so tense before.”
“I’m fine.” You shake your head and repeat your reassurance whilst waving a hand at him to dismiss the concerns. A headache is beginning to pound away at your skull. They returned along with the nightmares. With another partial cough to stand up off the couch, “I just had a nightmare and you spooked me, is all.” Looking out the window you find it’s barely early morning. The sun is only now beginning to creep over the horizon of the Watchpoint. Stretching, you look to see Hog is nowhere to be seen in the junker’s room. Instead just Rat sits on the couch where he’d previously been sleeping with you. You use his absence as an excuse to quickly change the subject before Rat can ask for you to further elaborate. “Where’s Hog?”
“He’s gettin’ breakfy.” He barely buys into your question, concern still written on your face as he watches from the couch to see you step off to grab a glass of water.
It’s quiet for a minute as you chug down a glass of water to soothe your parched throat, hoping maybe it’d help clear your head from the thumping pain as well. Once finished you put the glass away in the sink to be cleaned later and turn only to find Junkrat is still staring. His silence is worrying. It’s unusual and usually means he’s either upset or thinking about something seriously. You assume it’s the latter and sigh. “I’m fine, Rat.”
“Don’t seem it.” He huffs, “You’ve been actin’ weird.”
“Hog says I’m always weird.” You say bluntly and walk back to the couch to sit on the other end with your arm on the rest.
“Too weird.” He’s still eyeing you, brow cocked with suspicion as he shifts to bring his legs up on the couch. “What typa’ nightmare ye’ have?” He tilts his head slightly, eyes focused on you and nothing else for once.
For a minute you ignore his question, instead looking at the television that’s still on from the previous night. Your thoughts wander, trying to distract you from the reality that was slowly beginning to settle into your current state of affairs. Telling Junkrat was off the menu. You weren’t ready to spout out all of your issues to the man; nor anyone for that fact. The time you’d spoken to Angela about it you grazed over the details and just briefly mentioned you were having difficulties sleeping. You still needed to see Angela for a checkup. Aron was probably worried too. You could use a change of clothes given you were still in the borrowed ones from the night before.
A nudge catches your attention again, causing you to snap back and look to Rat who’d pressed his good foot up to your leg. You sigh, pushing his foot away with an eye roll as you knew it was an attempt at grabbing your attention. “My head hurts a bit. Besides that, it was just a nightmare.” Finally answering the question Junkrat grumbles at your answer and before he can press further you shake your head, “I don’t wanna talk about it.” The tension in your shoulders only grows worse as you ignore Junkrat’s pout.
“Fine, fine, I give. Don’t let ol’ Jamison in on yer’ issues. Not like he’d understand’em anyway!” He cries dramatically, even wiping an invisible tear from the corner of his eye as he pretend sobs.
The reaction manages to pull a snicker from yourself as you watch, more amused with how hard he’s trying to get you to cave in than anything. By how he smiles back you assume he’s pleased with your reaction. “If it was something serious I’d tell you, alright? There’s no point in me holding onto some bad thoughts just to mope about them.” You know it’s a lie. These ‘nightmares’ you keep having feel all too real. Each and every one of them. They blend in with current memories and twist your thoughts against you.
“If you say so, mate…” His words trail off as he sighs, the corners of his mouth tugging down in a frown as he slouches.
Your head is killing you.
The headache pounding away at your skull is making the muscles in your neck and shoulders stay tense, causing a permanent frown to stay stuck on your lips. You reach a hand up to rub your temples. It does nothing to soothe your headache, but it relieves some of the tension in your face. “I’ve just got a horrible headache.” You say softly before standing again. As you do, you spot Rat looking to get up too and you wave a hand to dismiss him. “I’m going to see Angela for the checkup she wants and maybe grab a few painkillers while I’m there. Tell Hog I’ll be back later.” He gives a little pout and you roll your eyes with a slight grin. “I’ll be back, okay?”
With a little goodbye you leave and start heading back upstairs to the upper decks of the Watchpoint. You feel bad leaving Rat behind, but he’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not like you won’t see him later that night anyway.
By the time you make it back to your room your headache has only worsened.
The luminescent lights in the hall are beginning to bother your eyes, causing you to shield them as you step into your room with a relieved sigh upon finding the lights were off. Looking to the charging pad you find Aron isn’t there. He’s probably gone off to do his daily dues. It makes you feel a bit guilty for not having seen him the night before, but like Junkrat, you’ll see him later. Besides, you weren’t sure if you could even handle his voice right now. The throbbing in your skull is seemingly growing worse with each passing second. It causes you to sink down to the floor with your back pressed to the sliding door, a long, deep breath escaping you as you attempt to relax.
It feels as if someone is constantly thumping on the back of your head.
You reach back to feel over the spot curiously, eyes closed and focused as you trail your fingers over the area only to find nothing. A groan leaves you and you allow your hands to drop, falling down to your legs where they rest as you sigh. You hadn’t experienced headaches this bad since… well, since before the incident. The ones you did get were normal headaches. This was somehow worse than a migraine.
Each sound in the hall sounded amplified. Light creeping in from the window was straining. Every little movement you did made it feel as if someone was squeezing your brain.
“I can’t believe I’m confiding in someone that might as well be more machine than human…”
When you whip your head up to the voice, you find no one’s there. You’re still alone in your empty bedroom with the early morning light creeping in through the window. People are talking in the hall, chattering through muffled walls as you survey them to find neither of their voices match the one you’d just heard. Your anxiety begins peaking as you take in a slow, deep breath and attempt to calm yourself by closing your eyes once again. Adrenaline is beginning to pump through your bright veins as vivid flashbacks begin collecting at the forefront of your mind.
“I’m just scared.”
You can still see her sucken expression. The longing stare that sends shivers down your spine as tears bubble down her cheeks. She stifled a sob and clutches herself for comfort, doubling over and bending at the knee to let out a pained cry. It brings nothing from you. Returning yet an empty stare as you watch the woman before you finally break under the pressure.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Your eyes shoot open and you find yourself covered in a cold sweat on your bedroom floor. The pain in your head has only doubled. Breaths are uneven as you hyperventilate, cold chills running down your spine as you frantically look around the room for something to ground yourself with. It’s hard to think. Your mind is beginning to grow numb with the flashbacks to some… some nightmare you had. It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real, but it was shaking you to your very core.
It felt real. You’re just remembering it.
The door slides open and a familiar core peers into the room, his monoeye swivelling before falling on your hunched frame resting at the doorway. His concern grows and he hovers down to your side, quickly doing a health scan as needed before asking in an apologetic, synthetic tone. “Are you okay?”
Aron’s presence shocks you, but it’s a relief you didn’t expect. When you look back at his eye light it causes your headache to pound painfully, but you ignore it in favour of looking at the bot. His presence is grounding. Something you desperately needed. “I’m… I’m not sure.” You struggle to give a proper answer, throat dry with panic as you look to your hands to find they’re shaking.
“Do you need immediate medical assistance?” He queries before taking another scan of your torso. “There are currently high levels of activity in the AFA. I am concerned for you D-”
Before he can finish the sentence you reach out to grab the core by his front panel, throat tight at the mention of the nickname he’d taken to calling you. “Don’t. Just… just don’t.” He falls quiet and you realise what you did, releasing the bot before falling down on your ass in utter disbelief in your own actions. “I’m sorry.” Your throat is dry as you let out a loud, unsteady sigh and run your hands through your hair. “Don’t call me that anymore.” The nickname feels… different now. The recurring nightmares where you find yourself being referred to as such and knowing somewhere that.. that it’s real, you just can’t.
“I will refrain from calling you as such, then.” He states matter-of-factly. It’s impossible to tell his emotions, if he has any. “I am concerned about your current state of health, both mental and physical. Did the mission take a toll on you?” He asks curiously. “If you are in need of-”
“I just need a minute.” You sigh, pressing either hand to your face and sinking down to slouch into the touch. “I just need a minute, alright? My head’s been killing me right now, Aron. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” A part of you wants to confide in the omnic… but the other part knows better. He would undoubtedly run off to Angela to tell the doctor all about your condition. That’s the last thing you wanted.
No one can know you’re having these flashbacks.
All of the trust you’d built up would be broken down to bits in mere seconds. They would know that something was up. Not that anything truly was… these memories might not even be real. You might just be having some sort of stress-related hallucinations. Of course, you weren’t sure of anything at the moment. Everything felt real and fake all at once. It might be nothing; even if they were shaking you down so harshly.
“I think I just want to lay down for a bit.” You stand with a bit of struggle, having to use the desk at the door to support yourself before you hobble over to your bed to crawl into it. You find it’s nowhere near as warm as the couch you’d shared with the junkers the night before, but it’s still comfortable. Behind you, Aron’s light shines on your back for a moment before you hear him hover over to his charging station.
“I’ll be here then.” He says simply. “When you wake up, will you tell me about your trip?”
You give a little nod before pulling your blanket up over your head. “Sure.”
Hog’s upset when he finds you left.
When he goes to interrogate Rat about it, he stops himself from doing so upon seeing the man moping around on the couch. Said man was picking at his nails nervously, a habit he only does when something’s on his mind and Hog knows that better than anyone. So he nudges the maniac and nods his head to get him to speak on it. He grumbles to himself, looking back down at the floor before giving a huff as he quickly caves. “Worried ‘bout’er.” He grunts, causing Hog to tilt his head curiously. “She’s actin’ all weird! Didn’t wanna tell me what was up.”
”She woke up like a goddamn looney! Should’ve seen her. I’ve seen that look before and it means no good.” He shakes his head at the thought and brings his hand up to chew on his nails. “Did it last night too! When you were in there fiddlin’ with yer’ junk she was out here giving me the crazy eyes!” He brings both hands up to hold open his eyes and flash Roadhog a mock-look. “And all the tossing n’turnin’ when she’s sleepin! You saw it and felt it too, I know ya’ did so don’t even say nothin.” He drops into the back of the couch dramatically and stares off at the far wall for a minute before shaking his head. “It ain’t right.”
Roadhog gives a solemn nod, knowing exactly what Junkrat was talking about despite his poor explanation. He’d seen it too. Last night it was almost as if you couldn’t get comfortable. Continuously tossing and turning, mumbling in your sleep and grabbing out at things. You’d grabbed his arms numerous times the night prior, one of which had actually managed to scrape his skin with your nails. He saw it in your eyes too. The exhaustion. He’d been through it himself and you’d mentioned before that you got flashbacks. What of which he doesn’t know exactly, but it was something bad enough to prevent you from telling them. And so far, you’ve told them everything. Well, you told him everything, Rat was still in the dark on some things. But to be fair, that was alright with him.
Something was definitely bothering you, but he’d never really been the one to get in someone’s business before… but this was different. You weren’t just someone. You were their someone.
For a minute he stands and watches Junkrat pout, considering his options carefully before finally deciding on one that causes him to turn. Junkrat shouts to ask where he was going, but he ignores the straggler to continue on up to the main deck. He doesn’t expect Rat to follow, nor does he want to right now. God knows the man would just get in the way.
He takes the long journey up to the main deck where he presses past people with displeased grunts.
They part to make way for him, allowing him to head out to the main hall where he spends a moment looking for your room. When he gets to it he hesitates before knocking, questioning how you’d react to him just barging in. There’s no answer, so he knocks again. The door slides open but he’s greeted to the sight of the damn bot you’re always hanging around with. He doesn’t let the robot speak and instead presses his hand to the device’s faceplate, pushing him aside so he could step in. He finds you’re laying in bed, blanket pulled over your head and curled up to the wall. The robot is beginning to ramble nonsense behind him as he steps closer to put a hand on your side to shake it gently.
You stir in a matter of seconds, jerking around to grab at his hand with a painful grip that surprises even him. There’s that look in your eyes. Fierce and on edge. It melts away in seconds as does the painful grip, replaced by one that’s both shocked and tired. “Hog?” You squint in the lighting right as Aron turns on the room’s lights, allowing your headache to flourish once again.
“C’mon.” He demands, standing to nod his head towards the door.
Your brows shoot up in surprise before falling with confusion as you move to swing your legs over the side of the bed. “What?” It’s odd seeing him in your room. Actually he’s never been in your room before. He’s massive and is barely able to stand at his full height without his head almost touching the overhead light. That aside, his presence is concerning. It must be serious if he’s willing to come all the way here to get you. “Where?” You stand anyway, looking down to find you're still dressed in the clothes given to you last night, but you really don’t think denying his orders is a good idea right now.
“Doc.” He grunts and begins making his way out the room. “You ain’t right.”
The thought of seeing Angela has your stomach already beginning to twist. “I’m fine. I just have a headache right now.” You follow anyway, stepping out the room and turning to apologise to a concerned Aron who looked ready to call security if he could. “Besides, I can just see Angela lat-”
“Now.” His voice sends chills down your spine as he turns his head to shoot a glare at you.
Through the lenses of his mask you catch it, finding it’s colder than usual.
You don’t say anything as you begin to follow the man, feeling awkward knowing the doctor is going to be seeing you dressed odd and even more sheepish than usual. Since you left the room, Hog hasn’t said a word nor has he looked at you. He’s kept his back to you and you can tell he’s stiff by the way he turns the corners. Eventually you find a spot to speak, “What’s going on?”
“Should be askin’ you that.” He huffs, “You ain’t right.”
The fact that he sees right through you makes your chest flutter, but you’re too confused to focus on that now. Lying to him now would only fuel his anger with you. Telling him the truth might not be good either… but then again, Hog’s kept a lot of your secrets. He’s even kept the one about you breaking one of Junkrat’s bombs. “If I tell you what’s up will you still force me to go see her?” Your question has him stopping dead in his tracks, but he still doesn’t look at you.
So you swallow nervously, “You can’t tell anyone.”
He nods.
“Not even Rat.” You add quietly, a frown tugging on your lips as Hog turns around to face you. He doesn’t nod and your brows twitch, waiting for him to agree to the terms.
He huffs, “Fifty-fifty.”
It’s your turn to grow annoyed as you glare back. “Don’t do that to me. You’re telling me you can keep a secret about all my other stuff, but you can’t keep this a secret?”
“Not when he’s worried too.” He grunts back.
It causes your anger to disappear and your face falls. “Rat’s worried too?”
“Mhm.” It’s not an expression he likes seeing. “Worried sick.”
For some odd reason… that makes your gut churn nervously. Sure, you knew Junkrat cared about you and all… but knowing that even he’s concerned and possibly moping about is saddening. You didn’t particularly like keeping secrets from Junkrat, but you weren’t sure if he’d go off telling everyone or not. The man’s a dumbass. He’s already told them some pretty embarrassing things without even knowing it. But you knew that if he found out later you told Hog and not him, he’d be just as upset by that.
Junkrat still doesn’t fully know about your…condition. You’re not sure if that’s entirely his fault or your own. By now it felt like yours given you’ve had ample time to tell him, but you’ve scraped by not doing so in fear of his reaction. Though, when you think about it, Hog hasn’t said anything to the maniac either. That makes either of you at fault. At least then Rat won’t hold his anger only to you, but both of you. Not that, that’s any better. You didn’t want Rat to be angry either.
Your silence seems to have finally bugged the mammoth enough for him to turn around and face you. When he does he reaches a hand out to touch your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him right as you give a sigh. His touch is comforting, but it only causes you to snap back to the reality of things. Keeping everything a secret wasn’t going to get you anywhere.
“Nightmares. I’ve been getting them a lot more lately.” You frown, eyes lowering to keep interested in Hog's gut rather than his mask. “Which yeah, whatever they’re just nightmares and everybody gets them from time to time.” Mentioning them now sends cold chills down your spine. “But they aren’t… They aren’t just nightmares. They feel too real. Like I’ve done them before, or I’ve been there and I’m just remembering it happening- not dreaming it did.”
Hog’s silent as you begin to explain. He’s unmoving but you know you’ve got his attention.
“Memories of warzones and dead people and laboratories.” A nervous, dry throat causes you to pause and swallow. “Like flashbacks of some kind. I wanna believe they’re just fake, that my brain is trying to compensate for whatever time I lost in cryostasis by making up some bullshit for me to go off- but I swear to god it’s driving me crazy, Hog. I’m remembering little bits of my past but none of it is making a full picture.” His hand cups your cheek again as you look up to him, flashing a nervous look now that you’re finally able to confide in someone. “And in these nightmares I feel… different. Like, it’s me but it’s not me.”
You pause, waiting for some input only to find his thumb stroking your cheek affectionately. It’s both simultaneously relaxing and saddening. You never really thought that you’d be admitting all your faults to a silent wall of all people, but Hog felt like your best bet right now. “I’m scared to tell anyone. I don’t want them thinking I’m something I’m not.” The thought pulls a sudden sob from you as the panicked urge to cry comes forth. “I don’t want them to take me admitting to having flashbacks as some sign that I’m remembering my true self or any of that bullshit. Angela and Alina both said themselves that cryostasis for prolonged periods of time can cause amnesia.”
You look up to Hog again. Eyes filled with tears and breaths beginning to pace, you feel yourself panicking. “What if I wasn’t actually asleep for all these years? That I just happened to forget whatever happened between then and now, and I’m only now remembering it all?” The grip on his hand grows tense as he wipes a tear from beneath your eye. “Am I just going to start back at square one all over again?”
For a moment you pause, leaning into his touch and giving a shaky sob as you attempt to calm yourself to continue babbling. “I’m tired of these headaches. My head is killing me. I can’t sleep. I keep dreaming that I’m on the battlefield in some mecha talking to people that seem familiar but I just can’t fucking remember no matter how hard I try.” You bring a hand up to wipe your face, clearing your vision but only causing yourself to sniffle. “I don’t want to lose everything again. I’m already looked at as some weapon and I’m only proving that I am with each passing day.”
Now that you’ve gotten the majority of things off your chest, you take a moment to simply breathe. Hog’s hand still hasn’t left your cheek no matter how damp it grows with tears. His thumb continues to idly stroke it. “I don’t even know what to think anymore.” Your voice is a bit quieter now that you’ve calmed some. “I have these dreams… these memories, that I used to be a soldier. I don’t know who I worked for or what I was fighting for, but I don’t think any of it was on the good side, if you know what I mean.” You sigh, looking down at yourself before gesturing with your hands. “And in these memories I’m in some sort of mecha, like battle armour sorta deal. It’s tight and restricting, but I have this weird feeling that I’m bound to it. That I can’t take it off… And I can remember my training. I was some sort of sniper, I think.”
“Even now, whenever I see one, I know exactly how to use it.” You look back to Hog again. “Cole interrogated me one night while you two were still gone. He took me to the shooting range and made me test my aim.” It’s now that Hog’s hand pulls away. It leaves a bad taste in your mouth as he does, but you say nothing on it. “He’s right. Something’s up with me because when I tell you I knew exactly where to aim and when to fire- it felt freaky. Like something was telling me, in my gut, that I’d done that before. I knew what I was doing I didn’t have to actually aim to get the shot. I just knew when and where.”
“And it was like I had to force myself to actually miss- which I did. I knew if I hit all the targets he’d only confirm his suspicions. A-And I don’t even blame him. It is freaky. I am suspicious he has every right to be concerned of my presence around the base. Am I a threat? I don’t want to be seen as one because I haven’t done anything.” Tears are beginning to well again, but you just barely manage to hold them back this time. “What if I am? That I’m just as Soldier thinks and one day I’ll finally snap, wake up as some sort of ‘sleeper agent’ like they all believe? Am I going to hurt everyone I’ve barely convinced to trust me?”
All of this rambling was beginning to leave you feeling parched. “I don’t want that.” You frown, fall silent and begin to feel awkward now that your brain has finally caught up to what you’ve been saying. Hog still hasn’t spoken a word. Standing silent and stiff as a wall, he stares down at you as if he’s waiting for more that you quickly provide in an attempt to fill the silence. “I barely know if you two trust me. I don’t blame you. I keep all these secrets out of fear but I know that if I continue to hold onto them, it’ll only end up worse for me.”
Finally Hog nods in agreement, reaching out again to wipe away a few stray tears on your cheeks. It brings comfort in a way that makes your face feel hot. His silence is comforting now despite being the opposite merely moments before. Maybe it’s due to how his shoulders have finally relaxed to calm your suspicious mind. “I need to see Angela.” You say through a sigh, noting that he seems to jolt at the idea now. “I’m not going to tell her. Not yet at least. I don’t want to run through any tests. I’m just going to go get my checkup and maybe some painkillers for my headache.”
You reach up to touch his hand right as he pulls it away, giving his oversized fingers a squeeze as a thanking gesture. “I’ll tell Rat.” He seemed to hesitate now, jolting lightly at the mention of it as you further elaborate. “He needs to know. Even if he’s a dumbass, it feels wrong keeping any secrets from him anymore. Besides, I don’t want him to hate me.”
A rough, belly shaking laugh causes you to jump in surprise as Roadhog reaches a hand out to ruffle your hair. “He’d never.” The man grunts, “Likes ya’ too much.”
You snort, gently smacking at his hand before fixing the hair he’d just messed up. “I doubt it.” Yet, at the mention of it your cheeks feel hot. “I never know what Rat thinks about me. It’s hard to read you sometimes too.”
“Mm.” He snorts, “That so?”
His simple response causes you to tilt your head, looking up at him with curious eyes now that he’d gone silent. “Should I not?” You grin, “I thought we already went over this. I’m weird, remember?”
Another chuckle causes his shoulders to shake silently, “We’re not so different then.”
“Is that so.” Your statement doesn’t go answered as you stare at the man before you, thinking now you wish his hand was still on your cheek to stroke it idly. His hands are soft and comforting. “...Can I have a hug?” The question leaves your lips before you get the chance to really catch it. Yet, to your surprise there’s no response before Hog suddenly leans down to wrap both arms around your small frame. It’s just as comforting as you imagined. Nice and warm with the underlying thought that he could crush you in the fraction of a second if he wanted to.
It’s exactly what you needed too. You melt away in his grip, leaning your head in to press your cheek to his mask as you bring both arms up to wrap them around the man’s neck. He doesn’t let go, allowing you a good long minute of the provided comfort you hadn’t realised how badly you needed. It causes the tension in the back of your mind to melt away with each passing second. His arms give you a little squeeze and you smile at the thought.
Hog doesn’t begin to release you until you start to pull away, but only after you thought it may be weird if someone were to see the two of you. His arm still lingers in numb patches over your skin, making you wish that you’d held on longer. “Thanks.” You say sheepishly, giving a half-hearted smile back at the mammoth who reaches down to pat your head once again. It causes you to snort and playfully smack his hand away before turning on your heel, “Alright. Let me go busy the doctor for an hour. I’ll come down after and we can finish breakfast, sound good?”
When you look back over your shoulder you find he’s staring back and it causes you to stop on step, waiting for a response that eventually comes in a nod. That makes you smile back, giving a little wave to Hog before you continue down the hallway towards the infirmary. Now alone, you begin to regret letting go back there. You should’ve held on for as long as he’d let you.
Chapter 8: Miserable Promise
Chapter Text
The doctor isn’t happy with you from the moment you step into her office. Not that she says it verbally. It shows in her movements as you both go through the usual course of an exam, starting with the vitals. Her brows continuously twitch in annoyance as she bites her tongue to prevent any sort of comment from managing to slip by. Whenever she sets her pen down it’s a tiny bit harder than normal. If she asks a question it’s short and snappy. All these little things are slowly beginning to make guilt eat away at your mind, wondering if it was wrong to have waited to come see her… but then again, you’re fine. Well, somewhat.
The only consistent pain you were feeling was the headache still pounding away at your skull, but she’d already given you painkillers upon mentioning it. Aside from that, you were fully healed as far as either of you could tell. She did insist on running a few scans, one being an MRI and another being an X-ray to see if you had any fractures left. When everything came back clear she seemed, well, unhappy with the results. Angela didn’t say it verbally, but it showed in her face as she pondered the scan of your innards, looking at your vitals and cross-examining them to past records. In the meantime you awkwardly sat on the table swinging your feet, waiting for her to give you the all clear to leave.
After all this passing time you’d think by now you would grow comfortable in the infirmary, but it’s the opposite. You’ve grown to resent the white medical walls and their tile flooring. Ever since you woke up from the incident it felt like this is all you ever saw anymore. Even before then it felt this was all you ever got to see. The same medical garbs paired with confused doctors that couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong with you and what wasn’t. At least Angela knew what she was doing and if she didn’t, she was doing a damn good job at acting as if she did.
“Well… everything looks fine.” When she finally speaks it’s through a heavy sigh as she takes a seat, lips quirked as she continues to look over the results. Her reaction only provokes confusion from you as you wait for more, but nothing comes.
“Okay?” You finally speak to break the odd silent pause, “...And?”
The doctor uses her hand to drag up another screen, pulling over a scan of your brain and the activity in it. “I’m.. I’m not sure.” Whatever annoyance the doctor had with you before is starting to disappear as she continues to ponder your results, ultimately leaving you in the dark as she gathers the words to explain her thoughts. “There’s abnormal activity in your brain.” She points to the chart with her pen in hand, pointing to the odd clusters showing on the scan. “It's just… elevated when compared to your last scan.” She shows a side by side comparison of a scan you did months ago upon first arriving at the Watchpoint.
To you the images mean, well, relatively nothing. You’re no doctor and looking at the charts now you can make out the brain scans, sure, but the details of them don’t mean much. As to the clusters she points to, you see them, little white masses on the black and white imaging. The year you took in psychology back in highschool didn't do next to nothing for you when it came down to your own results. By now your silence caught the attention of Angela who realises how little the scan meant to you, so she stumbles to explain.
“Well, mm, it may just be due to your frequent headaches you’ve said you have been getting, yes?” You nod and she continues. “So I may just be looking too far into things, or this may simply be a bad time to take a scan… but usually even with headaches or pain there isn’t this much activity. Especially when it’s so centralised… but still..” She begins to ramble to herself, brows knitted together in thought as she begins writing on the diagram with her fingers. You watch to see what she’s doing, but the words she writes are in another language- and in scribbles at that.
“Well I feel fine.” You sigh, knowing well something is up… you’re just not ready to talk about it. Not until you find some more things about yourself first. If you spoke now it would only result in a hundred more scans that would leave you trapped in the infirmary for days. “You study my results and tell me what you think later.” Taking the initiative yourself this time, you stand to begin pulling your shoes back on. “How about I come back later once my headache is cleared and you can take another scan?” A part of you knows that leaving now will upset Angela, but this is a way to sweeten the deal.
It seems to work as she nods at that idea. “Alright, fine. You’re cleared for now.” She gives another sigh and turns her attention to you. “Come back before dinner, we’ll do a scan before the mission briefing.”
At the mention of that you perk up, whipping your head back around to her as she mentions the meeting. It feels weird to be included in one. Or at least, you assume you’re being included. “The mission briefing?” Just checking.
“Yes, tonight. Before dinner at five. Come around four so we can do your scan before the briefing.” She confirms with a nod.
“Oh… alright.” So you were included.
With a nod you give the doctor a small thanks before you turn to quickly escape the infirmary. Staying any longer would result in Angela changing her mind. At least for now you’ll be satisfied with the painkillers that are working hard to send away the headache still putting a damper on your day. It’ll go away soon and with that thought in mind, you allow yourself a moment’s rest to think about what to do next. You did promise you’d go see Hog right after the exam… but you really needed to do a few other things first. One of which would be seeing Torbjörn to see how your legs held up in battle. There wasn’t any major damage, or even minor really, but you wanted to make sure.
Besides, if you knew the Swede well he would want a look himself.
Walking there now your mind trails off to imagining how this meeting might go. You’d proved yourself as a useful member of the team. After everything you’d almost forgotten you’d been admitted as an agent. Maybe Rat was right, you needed to start thinking of some sort of codename or maybe a nickname to go by instead. Everyone seemed to go by one. Soldier, Mercy, Tracer, and you supposed Winston didn’t but he couldn’t exactly hide his identity; and Rat used, well, Rat. Now that you thought about it, you wondered if it was weird for you to call Junkrat by his nickname rather than his given one since he did tell you his real name.
Wait, now that you think about it… what was Hog’s real name? He’d never told you, but you never asked. Hog has always had that to him though. You never learned anything of his past unless you asked. He was on a no-freebies policy you suppose. Then again, you were sort-of the same way. You’d never freely spoken about your deep history with either junker, especially Rat.
At least Hog knew a bit about you, at least what he knew from the missions, but Rat knew… What did Rat know?
He knew your name; even though he rarely uses it. Always calling you sheila or trying to make up some dumb nickname for you that never seems to stick. He’s never made it apparent he knows much else. It truly makes you wonder if he knew about the AFA and was just keeping to himself, which you doubted given all the instances where he could freely speak on it. If he knew then he was doing a good job at acting clueless with all these little questions he seems to continue asking.
A groan leaves you when you find yourself standing at the workshop entrance. There are too many things going on in your world right now. Personal world that is. Everything with the junkers, these memories, the nightmares, the AFA in its entirety, Angela’s persistence, the mission and now the briefing. The mission itself was a whole other can of worms you hadn’t thought about until Angela mentioned it. You felt weird knowing how easily you suppressed the memories from it. It had come and gone so quickly. You were so distracted with your own personal issues you hadn’t even stepped back to look at the bigger picture. It made you question if Ana saw you as a useful support or not. She’d dragged you off to do her own mission and while you think you did a good job, in the end you two still managed to be split.
Though you were able to recover Rat and Hog by yourself… but once again you striked off on your own fight by yourself as if you were some sort of vigilante. In the end you did finish your mission, but what about that woman you’d seen? She was looking at pictures of Ana… and you. Thinking back on it now was hard, the memories were already growing fuzzy due to all the adrenaline you had going through you in the moment. She was a hispanic woman, for sure, especially given how she’d spoken it to whoever else was on the other end of that call. Right, he’d called her Somba. She’d seen you, taken interest in you, and made it some personal note that you were interesting.
That thought only makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.
“Are you pretending to be a wall for today?” A heavy Swedish accent causes you to whip your head around to see Torbjörn standing behind you with his lunch in hand. You’d been standing in front of the doors of the workshop and promptly blocking them.
“Oh, sorry.” With a spaced mind you step to the side, finding that Torbjörn cocks a brow at your odd behaviour and nods his head to follow. You do wordlessly, mind still roaming to the long list of itemised things you still needed to do. Before you knew it you had already stepped into the workshop and followed Torb all the way back to his small office. The Swede was setting his things from lunch down onto his desk and flicking the lights on. You took a seat in your usual spot next to his workbench, eyes following the man unfocused as thoughts wondered elsewhere.
Eventually he’d grow tired of your silence and bark out a loud, “Well!?”
“Hm?” You back to him, finding he’s now standing before you with a few tools in hand ready to work on your legs.
“What’s broken?” He huffs, tapping your metal kneecap with a tiny screwdriver. “I’m not surprised, just disappointed.” A grumble leaves him as he shakes his head. “Should’ve known by now hanging with those scoundrels would lead to this. What’d he break?”
“You mean Rat?” As your head clears you finally realise the implications that Torbjörn had set on you. “Oh! Oh no, nothing’s broken. At least I don’t think anything is. I came here because I thought you’d want to do a checkup after the mission just to make sure everything was fine and held up well.” You give a little chuckle and reach down, pressing the release buttons on either side of one leg to pop it off. It gives a loud hiss as it comes off, allowing you to hand the prosthetic over to Torbjörn who takes it. While he sets it on the table to begin an inspection you begin to take off the second. “Sorry I’m just not feeling all that great today.”
“Hm.” He nods, bringing the light over and stepping up on his stool to begin inspecting your right prosthetic first. When he comes across the sticker Junkrat had stuck to it he gives a little grumble about keeping them clean and you roll your eyes. A part of you is glad Torb hasn’t asked what’s up with you and is instead focusing on what you’d hoped him to. You set your remaining prosthetic on the table’s edge, having to lean over in your chair now that the balance weight is gone. It always feels weird taking off the prosthetics now. Without them you’re a good fifty pounds less and it causes your entire balance to tilt.
The engineer takes his time inspecting his creations, only stopping to take a few notes or to make tweaks to things that needed it. He seems pleased with your maintenance on the devices though given that he remarks they are in good condition aside from the few scratches and the one sticker. Eventually he allows you to take the items back to begin reattaching them. He watches you do it for a moment before he sits down on his stool with a loud sigh. It catches your attention, causing you to look to him right as you click the left leg into place.
“Y’know… ima’father, too.” He snorts, “I know when somethin’s up.”
You give an awkward smile at that, knowing all too well of his pride when it comes to family. He practically sees half the team as such. His office has always been littered with little knickknacks that remind you each time you step in here. The pictures on the walls of holiday events and the family postcards he’d lined up on his bulletin board. “Yeah, I know.” With a nod you give your legs a quick test to ensure they’re fitted right and test the nerve sensors by rolling either ankle. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that's all.” A little sigh leaves you at the mention of it, only grimly reminding yourself once again of all the things on your plate.
“And?” He gives an expecting look. “Don’t tell me yer’ gonna clam up now?”
“It’s nothing serious, just, I dunno.” You rub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Just a lot. The mission, all the stuff going on with me and my dumb legs-” He gives an offended ‘hey’ at that. “-trying to keep up with training, and just some personal stuff.” Of course you’d spare the details much like you’d done with everyone else. “It’s just leaving me tired.” At least that’s not a lie.
He nods knowingly and reaches over to grab his sandwich off his desk, which he begins eating while continuing the conversation. “Well, I think we all know how that feels.” He hums before taking a bite of the sandwich and keeping hold of it as his arms drop to his lap.
“I just feel like I’m never doing good enough.” You frown a bit, “Like no matter how hard I try I can’t catch up with anything or anybody. I barely know how I did on the mission. Ana says I did well but Angela thinks otherwise due to all my injuries.”
“Hah!” He barks out a laugh that causes him to choke on his sandwich and he shakes his head, grabbing his water to chug it down for a second. “Yer’doin fine.” He swallows, “Don’t let Mercy make you think otherwise. If Ana says you’re good then I think you need to take her word for it.”
The reassurance is welcomed, but it really only leaves you feeling a bit more helpless. You were closer to Angela than the old commander, it was easier to take the Doctor’s words into account. “Alright, I guess…” For a minute it’s quiet as you think, looking at Torb as he takes a few more bites and rambles something about how he didn’t get the chance to see you in action yet. As he speaks your eyes wander, looking back to the wall where he keeps the photos of his family and friends lined up on the bulletin board. Among the photos you spot a few photos that are aged and show a much younger Torbjörn.
In those photos he’s fighting among much younger looking recruits, those of which you recognise to be Reinhardt, Ana, and Angela. Though the Doctor doesn’t look much younger, the others do. Their uniforms are different and they seemed to be standing in front of their previous headquarters. It makes you wonder. Torbjörn has been around for decades and has seen a majority of the wars. He knew much about omnics and how they functioned. The man barely even batted an eye upon seeing Aron despite saying he was a much older model, and was able to repair him in no time. The same thing happened to your legs. He’d stated the implants you had were older and no longer used, but he was still able to make proper fittings for them.
“Hey,” Your voice interrupts the man who’d been continuing to ramble on about the mission happily and he stops, looking at you expectantly. “Sorry for interrupting, but I’ve got a question.” He takes another bite and nods for you to continue. “Do you know anything about mechas?” The question causes him to cock a brow and you quickly scramble for an excuse, realising it may come off as odd to suddenly ask such a thing. “I’m just interested in them.” It’s the best you can make up at the moment, but it seems to work as Torbjörn strokes his beard in thought for a moment.
“Not really.” He confesses, “That’s something you should ask Hana about.”
You already knew well that the girl piloted a mecha, but it’s not the same as the one you’d been seeing in your dreams. Those mechas were… different. Not piloted ones that Hana seemed to be able to slip in and out of easily. The ones in your dreams just felt different. “Ah.” With a little sigh you nod back and stand up to stretch. “Well alright, I’ll go ask her then.” You fake a reassuring smile to the engineer who accepts it with a returned one. “I’ll see you later then.” And at that you leave, waving a little goodbye to the few other mechanics in the workshop as you slip past them.
Sadly your conversation with Torbjörn only leaves you feeling empty all over again now that the questions you did have go unanswered. You’re beginning to realise this is simply something you’re going to have to take into your own hands. Asking the others for assistance was growing to be out of the picture if you wanted to keep all of your memories and nightmares a secret. At least from the main cast. Roadhog knew now, albeit not every detail, and soon enough Junk would know too. You were set on telling him. By now you’d cleared the worry in your mind and thought it best fit to open up to Rat. But not now. Later.
You needed some answers first.
When you arrived back in your room you were thankful to find Aron had left elsewhere. It allowed you to lock the door shut and to have some privacy. First thing’s first, you change your clothes out of the pyjamas you’d somehow roamed the base in without people questioning them. You threw Roadhog’s shirt onto the bed, planning to wear it again later to sleep in again. It was comfortable and you had a feeling you weren’t going to return it anytime soon. As for Junkrat’s shorts… to the hamper they went. While also comfortable, they were just too big. For now you opted into your usual uniform, pulling on the team logo and a pair of tight shorts that you’d grown accustomed to.
Now set, you moved to sit down at the desk and tapped the on button for the holoscreen to buzz to life as the computer powered on. Research wasn’t something you were used to by now. After all it’s all you’d done whilst living at the Foundation. That thought alone made you wonder how Alina was doing. The doctor was still on leave to see family so the communication you’d had with her had been limited to a few texts here and there. Maybe you’d give her a call later to check in on her. Right now you opened up the search engine and started researching anything you could about mechas. Specifically older models.
What you came across wasn’t helpful. It was all battle mechs that people used in tournaments similar to D.va’s but just older and clunkier. You did find a few articles on the mech battles in Junkertown, which piqued your interest given that was where Junkrat had mentioned either of them had lived before, but still… not what you were looking for. A frustrated groan would eventually leave you after multiple searches and scrolls through the pages. Said groan would cause a familiar A.I to speak up.
“Having troubles?” Athena’s voice said softly, “How can I be of assistance?”
It still caused you to jolt, momentarily forgetting that the Watchpoint was constantly under the A.I’s watch. It also caused you to fear she knew what was happening with you, more specifically your conversation with Roadhog… but she may be programmed to keep to herself? You hoped so because your next move would bite you in the ass if not. “Athena, what can you tell me about old mechas?” At your question the holoscreen flickered and showed the same images you’d already been looking at.
“Ugh, no not these.” You sigh, brows knitting together as you attempted to word it right without giving away too many details. “...Old mechas. Ones from the first Omnic crisis that were piloted by people?”
“Can I ask why you are interested in this information?” As she asked the question the screen would change again as a new page would come up. It looked like a Wiki article containing ‘known mechs’ from the first war. You’d lean in to begin reading, scrolling down at the list and seeing various people inside tank-like mechs that had heavy railguns attached to their units. The list included a few previous war heroes, their body counts and known battles.
“I dunno, just am. I uhm, saw a mecha while we were in Greece and just wondered if there were any more like that from my time… That’s all.” You said back, biting on your inner cheek as you continued to look through the various known units that were made. None of the mechs were looking like the ones in your dreams. They were all too big, practically the size of a bus with usually two people inside.
Since you had her attention you suppose it couldn’t be bad to ask Athena a few more questions. Unlike Aron, you had a feeling she was more… well, robotic and wouldn’t list all of your issues off to the others. “Athena, could you tell me more about Dr. Howser?” The man’s name leaving your lips for the first time in so long feels… odd. Wrong and familiar, an odd feeling settled into your gut and proposing you wanted to know more about the man to the A.I would surely provoke some suspicions. “Before he was captured, what did he do during scientific career?”
“Sure.” Athena answered back, “Dr. Niel Howser, known under the alias Dr. SJ Felder, was the leading scientist at Rebund Technologies.” She begins rambling off the same article you’d heard a dozen times from Aron. It’s word for word and by now you can practically recite it yourself. You say quiet and listen to the familiar details of his ‘great works’ that you were included among. “Known under his new alias as Dr. SJ Felder, his works on SLC and the cryogenic frontier would be seen as some of the most promising yet compromising due to the complex and secretive past of his experiments.”
“Prior to his final conviction in 2068, Howser would continue his works on SLC.” Athena stated simply before you’d stop her by nodding.
“Tell me about the Berlin Captives.” By now you’d confirmed you were the remaining patient of the experiments, but you’d never had the gut to look into your own past until now. You needed answers. Thinking about everything still left you feeling ill and seeing red, but there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Angela had stated herself that these experiments were inhumane and when you’d asked her to elaborate, she said she didn’t have the stomach to even think of them.
“In early 2020, Howser would refine SLC to be capable of human alterations and would conduct a series of experiments on quote on quote ‘willing’ patients according to his own documentation. He would admit during the trial of Howser Vs Kelber that these patients were ill-informed of their subjection to the drug as well as the following experiments.” Her voice stated monotone as she read the information straight from the documentation. “Dr. Howser began the Berlin Regenesis Trials in late 2020; Of which is now known as the Berlin Captives. In the beginning, SLC would be used on lab rats. It would be Howser to first introduce human subjects to SLC after finding that a rat named Benny would survive its initial injection. The research team would come to find SLC was capable of re-writing one's genetics. Benny was found to have accelerated intelligence and regenerative capabilities. This would lead Howser to believe that if a human were to survive the initial trials, then they would be capable of similar results.”
“Two of the twelve original patients admitted, were known to have survived these trials. Howser would search for terminally ill patients, those who had little time left, many with life threatening conditions and diseases, to participate in the trials with little information given in return. The trials were not regulated and found to be illegal, voiding any contracts signed by patients.” The holoscreen before you flickered to life as it showed a portrait of the doctor standing trail.
The man in the picture looked… odd. He wasn’t the man you’d met all those years ago in a cold, white laboratory. He was aged. Gray hairs speckled his short hair and veins bulge from his temples. He had heavy bags beneath his eyes and a sharp smile as the picture portrayed him as speaking. “From the recovered documents, it was found only one patient was known to still be alive. They stood trial, during which Howser was convicted of his past crimes. The last living patient’s whereabouts would be left unknown as Howser would later admit in custody that the final patient would be subjected to early cryostasis experiments. Little information is known on the remaining patient.”
It went silent for a moment as you viewed the picture, using two fingers to zoom in on the man’s face to get a better look at it. When you swiped it showed another picture of the other subject. A middle aged woman who was rough and tired. The veins in her neck bulged similarly to the doctor’s, red and pulsating with each movement. She looked tired. You could sympathise with her.
“The last patient… Can I see the records for her?” By now Athena would surely know you were the ‘confirmed’ last patient. Not that you would ever truly go public with it. You didn’t need the world’s eyes on you anymore than they were now.
“Of course.” Athena agreed and the screen changed to that of a document file.
You swiped your hand across the screen, opening the file to an abundance of records that dated back to the year of 2021. The uncomfortable knot in your stomach only grew tight at the sight of the recorded dates. Just mere days after you’d first arrived there all that time ago. A deep breath would leave you before you began reading the first page. The first page was a report of your initial intake, documenting your condition and overall well being. Reading it now rubbed you wrong. With the knowledge that they were simply relying on your condition for testing and documenting it in such a detailed way was downright predatory. The doctor’s notes at the end of the page concluded you were the ‘perfect candidate’ for the experimental treatments.
The following page was another report, this one done by a nurse after your ‘ initial treatment ’ was complete and you were put into a recovery room. It included the time, date, and location, showing you were still in Germany at the time, but many of the identifying details were redacted. Your birthday, age, weight, height, etc; were all blacked out of the report. Wiped clean with only the details of your treatments being listed, although they were vague too.
When you went to swipe again you found there were no more pages. Athena would speak before you’d even ask the question, “These results are public information.”
Your brows knitted together in confusion. “I can’t access anymore of it?”
“Unfortunately not.” The A.I put simply, “Limited public records were released after the trial.”
A frustrated grown would leave you as you stared at the page, rereading the report from the nurse who stated that you were doing “well” during the trials. You couldn’t remember how you’d actually been doing then, of course, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was far from well .
Everything just seemed to lead to a dead-end. Nothing was getting you anywhere. You needed answers and now, it just seemed like every route you planned to take was blocked off by another wall. Looking at the screen now you thought of ways to get around this blockade. Coming forth as the last remaining victim was simply out of the question. Asking for help from maybe Angela or Torbjörn wasn’t in the bed of ideas either given you’d then have to tell them why you need access. The only other person you could think of was maybe Alina, but she was still out on leave from the Foundation and wouldn’t be back for another two months.
“ Shit .” You whispered to yourself, rubbing either temple with both hands with a frustrated sigh.
You’d have to find answers elsewhere. Outsource if you will.
“Thank you all for arriving on time.” Angela addressed the crowded meeting room once everyone had finally toned down the chattering.
You sat next to Roadhog who you were surprised to find showed up, but Rat was nowhere to be seen. The other members of the meeting included the majority of the main group, of which being Ana, Reinhardt, Torbjörn, and of course Angela. They all sat at the head of the table and were the first ones to arrive. Of course you recognised everyone for the most part. Zarya sat next to Baptiste and Cassidy. Hana sat with Lucio and Tracer. The whole cast seemed to have arrived for the debriefing. Taking it all in now made you feel out of place. It was your first mission debriefing as an actual Agent. Hog’s presence was the only thing keeping you comfortable. You listened carefully, keeping your back straight as you watched Angela with all seriousness.
Angela would begin by stating she was proud of the team’s coordination and that the overall mission was a success. She listed off specific people’s actions that were notable, mainly that of Zarya who had rescued Hana from almost being taken hostage. Your brows shot up at various parts, surprised at things you didn’t know had happened until now. That’s due to having arrived late in the mission of course. Junkrat and Roadhog were there for two weeks until you’d arrived.
But overall, it was still a success even with the mistakes made here and there.
As Angela begins listing off items of interest, specifically speaking on the new abundance of snipers from the enemy, Cassidy speaks up to suddenly butt in. “Are we going to ignore the elephant in the room?” His words cause Angela’s mouth to snap shut as she looks over, expecting Cassidy to continue now that he’s drawn attention to himself. He stands, gesturing a hand directly at you. The simple action causes Hog to tense and you take note of how he sits up a bit more, but doesn’t make any moves yet. He’s ready to defend you if needed.
“Cole, she is an agent now. She has the right to be here.” Ana says, “Besides. She proved herself on the field.”
“And?” He looks bewildered, “We’re just gonna let all that slide?” The anger and annoyance breaks through his tone as he slams a hand down on the table. “You’re tellin’ me we’re gonna just roll with it all ‘cause she proved herself on the field. That’s it?”
A huff leaves Ana as she continues to defend you. “At one point in time you were there too.”
“But I have a background.” He emphasises each word with his finger on the table. “This girl came outta’ some lab somewhere and is able to shoot down the enemy like she’s Rambo.” He grits his teeth, “I showed you the video. You even agreed it was odd.”
The argument has caused the rest of the room to fall deathly quiet as the group stares at the two going back and forth. Ana stays calm and collected while Cole is growing more agitated by the passing second. You take note that a few people occasionally look at you during their argument and some are avoiding eye contact all together. A few are whispering to one another, looking uncomfortable during the ongoing argument and when they glance at you, finding you’re watching them, they look away quickly.
It makes you question just how many members of the team actually trust you.
“What video?” You ask, breaking your way into the argument now and causing Ana to look at you nervously. “I want to know.” While you attempt to keep a calm face on the outside on the inside you’re panicking. Your atomic heart is racing and you can feel yourself beginning to sweat nervously as you try to make a stand for yourself. It’s come to the point where you have to. If not, you're always going to rely on Ana and the others to stand up for you. It can’t always be like that.
“The practice range.” Ana says simply, looking away at the table with a small sigh as she gathers her thoughts. “I saw the footage upon recall.”
“And?” You press, “You think it’s odd.” With a dry throat you swallow the lump in your throat. “I’ve been in training for almost four months and you still find it odd I can fend for myself.” When the old commander doesn’t respond you feel a coil tighten in your gut. It’s angry and causes your throat to grow tight as you watch her face for any signs of resentment. “Were you not to take me off on a solo mission with you all for papers?” At the mention of it, Ana’s cool exterior begins to break as she looks to you in surprise while a few of the others shift uncomfortably. “Was that just to test me?”
She argues, “It was not like that.”
“It feels that way.” The bitterness in your words are beginning to show as you keep both eyes narrowed on the other woman. Of course you knew it was some sort of test to begin with. Ana wouldn’t take you off alone on some side mission for nothing. There are plenty of other candidates far more useful than you and you know that all too well.
“Let’s speak of this later-” Angela tries to cut in and prevent an argument from going, but you stop her quickly.
“There is no later.” You say loud enough for her to hear across the table. “This is a mission debriefing, right? Let’s talk about the mission then if that’s what you want to talk about instead.”
Out of the corner of your eye you spot Hog tilting his head slightly, taking note of your anger and possibly readying himself to prevent you from doing anything you’d otherwise regret later. “I wanted to go on the mission to retrieve my friends. I succeeded, but only after I was dragged away into a firefight with Ana. During the mission, Ana did not tell me any of what we were doing and instead insisted I follow her. I did without question and I protected her to the best of my ability. I received a gunshot during our escape that left me separated and happened to stumble into a building where I came across Junkrat and Roadhog.”
“I had to lie on a table where Roadhog dug a bullet out of my leg and after we bandaged it, we recalled back to locate Ana. After being unable to find her we went to the rooftops to locate the team and while we did, I happened to spot something that piqued my interest and went to investigate. I parted from the junkers to go investigate on my own, recognizing the van as being similar to the one I’d happened to cross before. While there I went into a building where I came across a woman reviewing footage from the building me and Ana had just infiltrated, the woman was taking a particular interest in Ana.”
At the mention of that, Cole’s brows shot up in surprise and he waved a hand out at you. “And you’re only now telling us this?” Ana’s expression had shifted from that of calm to nervous as she listened in.
“This is a mission debriefing.” You argued, “I’m telling what information I collected from the mission since that’s what we’re all here for, right ?” The spite in your voice causes Angela’s facial expressions to shift to discomfort as you silently call her out. “And I was in no condition to do so when I rejoined the team later during the extraction.” With a huff you continue, “The woman was frustrated that Ana had already escaped and was reporting over some sort of intercom to what I’m assuming is her boss.” You decide to purposely leave out the part about yourself, worried it may bring more unwanted attention that you were already doing numbers on now. “The woman escaped after that. I’m not sure how, but it appeared as if she teleported right in front of me. I went unnoticed though. After she left I dismantled the signal jammer and began leaving, that is where I was intercepted by a sniper.”
“After that I made my escape back to the team where Roadhog happened to find me.” A sigh leaves you, “Many of you are still uncertain of me, and that’s fine; But I want you all to know that I’m just doing the job I signed on for. I haven’t done anything to purposely harm the team nor have I acted suspiciously.” That last part is a bit questionable. “We all know there is surveillance on me, almost twenty-four-seven. Athena, Aron, and Genji are constantly keeping track of me ever since I arrived on base. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not stupid. I don’t care if you all think I’m suspicious and think I’m some sort of threat, I’ve let you all know my intentions clearly.”
You take a breath and continue before anyone can step in. “I decided to be an agent because I can’t go back to the life I once had, not that I exactly want to. You all know my story by now. I can’t go back to living as a civilian and I have skills that are useful for the team. Winston is still working on a way to convert the AFA’s energy output into reusable sources. I want to help where I can. If I didn’t I would have happily gone back to living at the Foundation where despite being looked at as a freak for the device, I wasn’t questioned.”
“Out of all the possibilities I would have expected this team to accept me the most. I see I was wrong.” As you conclude your speech you stand, causing Roadhog to do the same with the intention of following you. “If you want answers, speak to me directly. I’m growing tired of hearing people speaking behind my back.” With that you head for the exit and Roadhog follows, holding the door open for you before leaving the meeting room together.
As you leave and begin heading downstairs with Hog following, your gut grows tight at the realisation of what had happened. You’d just told off the entire team in one go and possibly just tossed out the trust you did have with some. The weight of the situation causes your shoulders to drop and you give a groan that catches Hog’s attention as he tilts his head, looking down at you. “This is all so stupid.” You sigh, stopping in your tracks to lean your head against Hog’s arm for comfort. “I’m never gonna get anywhere with them, am I?”
A silent chuckle leaves the man as his shoulders shake and his hand wraps around your small figure to give you a squeeze. Of course you lean into the touch, giving a mixed sigh as you allow yourself to relax once tense shoulders. His embrace is comforting.
The rest of the team really hasn’t spoken to you since then.
You don’t think they’re avoiding you, if anything you’re actively avoiding them subconsciously. Angela must have taken notice by now that you’ve purposely skipped out on getting another check-up and you haven’t been to the workshop either. You know you’re avoiding them, but at the same time you want them to take some initiative in speaking to you first. You did your part, voiced your opinion and made your claims. It’s just a matter of time if they were going to understand or not.
Until the next mission there isn’t much to do around the base. It’s oddly quiet for once. For now you’ve devoted your time to the basement where either junker lives. At least their company is as entertaining as always. You’ve been awfully lazy the last week. After the mission debriefing you and Hog finished the rest of the show you were watching after bingeing it all in one go. However you both already started another show that even Rat seems to enjoy for once. So that’s a plus.
Speaking of Rat, you still haven’t told him anything. Roadhog hasn’t mentioned it so you think it’s alright… even though it’s really not. A part of you feels bad leaving Rat in the dark about all these little nitpick secrets you have, but the other part of you wants it to stay that way. His obliviousness brings a sense of comfort you’ve found yourself indulging in. The questions he asks are innocent without the worry of alter motivations behind them. You can stay comfortable knowing he doesn’t see you as some sort of threat, he just sees you as you. Why tell him everything that might go wrong when you can both be comfortable knowing nothing more.
Your guilty subconscious is beginning to make its rounds though.
Somehow, find you’ve been sleeping on the couch most nights with either a skinny twig laying atop of you, a mountain holding you close, or occasionally both. Usually Hog goes to bed before either of you and will go take the bed for himself, leaving Rat to ramble in your ear about whatever show you both are watching. Then he’ll usually pass out first, laying on you as if you were his favourite pillow. Not that you mind of course. He snores like crazy though for someone so skinny. He’s really not small like someone might think. He’s skinny, but he’s tall. You’ve seen him stand to his full height a handful of times and it shocks you each and every time to find he’s as tall as Hog. Which is why him sharing the couch with you is so downright hilarious. His legs always hang over one of the arms or off the side. He stretches out to sleep with his head on your stomach and never has a blanket covering himself. If the blanket gets on him, usually from Hog, he’ll mumble about being hot and throw it off.
As you watch him sleep you find despite the snoring, he’s cute. It’s a thought that makes your face flush red as you watch his brows twitch in thought despite his heavy slumber. You bring a hand down to run it though his hair, smiling to find it was softer than it looks. He’s been taking more showers lately which Hog even joked about that he does for you, but you don’t want to take credit for that. He mumbles in his sleep as you pet him, leaning into your hand and murmuring something too intelligible to understand. It’s a joint effort, fifty-fifty.
At least he’s not talking. The silence lulls you to sleep.
“What are you thinking!?” A frantic voice rings out above you as the woman presses a gauze to the open, weeping wound on your gut. Concern is written all over her features as she frantically applies pressure, only causing more blood to pool momentarily before the bleeding slowly comes to a halt. When she lifts her head tears are bubbling in her eyes as she stares back at you, giving a hiccuped sob before she brings her free hand to wipe her tears away. Doing so smears your blood across her cheek.
“I’ll be fine.” Your voice is weak and dry, scratchy from lack of use and need for water. The pain is keeping your face distorted as she presses down again, causing you to give a pathetic gasp. “There are still copies left, Vee.”
“Two!” She screams at you looking angry at your reasoning. “There are two left! Then what!? You might not even wake up next time!”
A sigh leaves you as she cries harder, leaning in to press her forehead to the cracked armour plate on your chest. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know.” She gives another sob, “Exactly. What am I supposed to do then?” Between laboured breaths you reach up to press a hand to her cheek, tainting it with dirt as you give it a light squeeze. She leans into the touch, breaths hard as she shakes. “I can’t do it alone.”
In an attempt to lighten the mood you give a short snort, “What happened to me being no better than some damn omnic?”
Your plan backfires as she raises her hand to slap you, “You know I don’t think of you like that, so don’t even joke about it!” Her anger is broken by another sob as she cries harder, shaking her head as she looks down at your gut to see the wound is still bleeding horribly. “You’re real. You’re a person with thoughts, feelings and emotions. I don’t care if you’re some stupid clone or a cyborg- you’re still you, Six!”
Her words cause you to frown as you stroke her cheek, ignoring the stinging in your cheek as most feelings are beginning to fade anyway. It’s a familiar feeling and one that causes you to give an uncomfortable sigh, “I know. I’m sorry.” The pain is beginning to grow unbearable as blood continuously pools from your gut with no sign of stopping. “Begin the backup process.”
“No!” She shakes her head frantically. “I’ve got this, you’re going to be good we don’t need to-”
“Vee. My spine is broken.” You plead, “I’m not walking out of this field.”
The pressure on your gut disappears as she slumps in defeat, shaking her head once again. Through her bangs you see tears are still dripping down her cheeks and onto the damaged plates of your suit. “No.” Her voice is weak, practically a whisper as she sobs. “There’s only two left and one isn’t even done processing. What happens if the first backup fails? I don’t want to wait for you again.”
“If it fails it’s only a few months. I’m sure it’ll be fine though. Besides, Felder isn’t going to let me off that easy.” You sigh, feeling the remaining energy beginning to flee as your hand drops from her cheek. “When I wake up, we’ll leave.” You promise, “We’ll make a run for it and get out of here, leave the battlefield behind.” The reassurance seems to convince her as she reaches into her satchel with a sob to retrieve a handheld device.
In hopes for a distraction as she begins you give a quiet sigh and ask, “Where do you want to go?”
It takes a moment’s thought to get an answer as she reaches behind you. “Jakarta.” She replies through a hiccup, wiping away tears with her forearm as she plugs the device into the back of your suit. After a few buttons are pressed you hear the familiar sound of steam leaving the suit as pressure begins to flee. The suit’s lights flicker off as the remaining power store goes into the backup drive.
It causes you to relax, a low sigh leaving you as your hands begin to grow numb. You stare at her sunken features and give a half-hearted smile. “We’ll go to Jakarta then. Get a house on the beach with a dog and two cats. How’s that sound?”
She sniffs, keeping her eyes to the ground as the device gives progress beeps. “That sounds good.” Her face is dirtied with dried blood as she continues to use her gloved hands to wipe away tears.
Your head tilts off to the side as the muscles in your neck are beginning to give way. “I’ll see you back in the lab?” She nods. “And since I probably won’t remember you until the download is complete, you get three free slaps, okay?” She nods again and this time gives a weak chuckle as she wipes away a few more tears.
Another sob comes from her as your body begins to slump on the ground, eyes growing dark as you struggle to keep them open. “You better wake up.” She hiccups, shaking her head again as she suddenly smacks both hands to your plated chest. “You better wake up and remember me, dammit! Don’t make me wait again. Don’t make me wait again, Six! I can’t do it alone!”
As she shouts her words begin to fade away as to her tears that drip away into nothingness.
A shocked gasp leaves you as the hand shaking you finally snaps you awake. You go to sit up but the weight on your chest stops you. Looking down you find Junkrat is lying on you still, looking concerned as his hand is on your side where it had been previously shaking rather hard. You look around to get a gauge of your surroundings and look back at him, “Hey…” Your voice is tired as you slowly come to. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been asking you that.” He says softly and begins to sit up, frowning as he reaches up to press a hand to your forehead. “Over here talkin’ in yer’sleep, mate. Had me thinking you had the loonies.”
“Oh.” You swallow, allowing the hand on your forehead that quickly pulls away to leave your cheeks feeling hot. “I’m fine, sorry. Just had another nightmare.”
“You’ve been getting those a lot lately.” He pouts, sitting up on your legs and allowing you to sit up yourself.
“Yeah, I know.” A defeated sigh leaves you as you look past Rat to see Roadhog isn’t in the bed, but judging by the sun peaking over the horizon through the window it’s easy to tell where he’s gone.
“You alright?” You hate that he asks that. He’s been asking it a lot lately. It makes the guilty knot in your stomach tight as you lie and nod. So he goes quiet, watching your face for a few moments before suddenly asking a question you weren’t expecting. “Who’s Vee?”
The question causes you to snap your attention up to him, looking surprised at it as you even ask the question to yourself. The truth is, you aren’t quite sure. “I dunno.” You shug. “Someone in my dream.”
“Did you know’em?” He asks curiously.
“I’m… not sure. She looked familiar but I really don’t remember who they were to be honest.” Another sigh leaves you as you attempt to recall who she was. Her face is at the forefront of your mind, however. Tan and pretty with a cute gap between her teeth. Her eyes were hazel and despite the tears filling them, were pretty.
“Oh, alright.” Junkrat gives a little nod at that.
It’s quiet again as you think on what to say. Your gut is twisting uncomfortably, guilt eating away at it as you think on how to explain yourself. Tell him the truth. That’s all you had to do, all you needed to do. Just tell him about your past and what you are. It’s not hard and like Hog said, he likes you too much to push you away or get angry. Just tell him the truth. “Hey Rat, I need to tell-”
You're very bluntly interrupted by Junkrat leaping off the couch to rush to Roadhog who had just stepped in with breakfast in hand. He blathers on about not asking him what he wanted, to which Hog simply grunts and pushes past him stating he doesn’t have to eat. A sigh leaves you at the interruption, but it’s quickly followed by a smile. You’d just have to tell him another time then. For now you decided to enjoy the breakfast Hog brought down and handed off to you. Junkrat continued to rant about Hog not getting what he wanted despite not having told the man what it was he wanted.
For breakfast you were quiet, thoughts still fresh on the dream you’d had before. It wasn’t a nightmare this time, more like a dream… not a dream. It was a memory. You can still see her face, the sadness in her eyes that were droopy with a lack of sleep you’d grown familiar with. The details of the memory were still fresh, however. Her name was Vee, she was some sort of medic and you feel as if you two were close. However, you’ve seen her before. In a previous memory. She was just a field medic before.
No, it can’t be.
“I don’t care if you’re some stupid clone or a cyborg- you’re still you, Six!”
It’s the same girl from before. Her voice and face were the same.
“You better wake up and remember me, dammit!”
You hated that you couldn’t remember her.
“I can’t do it alone!”
You promised her you would.
Chapter Text
As expected, the base has gone quiet.
You’ve fallen back into a familiar routine that has you lounging about daily. Occasionally you hit the gym to keep your figure up, but most days have taken to residing on the couch of the basement where two men squeeze in close. By now Roadhog and Junkrat’s presence are a daily necessity. Without them it feels weird. The times Hog leaves, you feel odd looking at the empty spot on the couch and find yourself sitting in it until he comes back. Junkrat doesn’t leave anywhere near as often. Though he has been a bit lazier himself as of late. Instead of being at his workbench, he’s more frequently on the couch or otherwise following you around. He’s even joined you in the gym a few times despite never having actually exercised himself. Instead he sits and begins rambling on about whatever ‘news’ he has in store for you. Most days it’s useless information you could’ve easily lived without hearing.
You’re really not sure how he keeps any muscle at all with how he eats. It must be from all the bouncing around he does. Junkrat never seems to lose energy and when or if he does, then something’s severely wrong. You’d seen him get a cold once and it caused Hog to almost have a full meltdown when he didn’t want to get out of bed. Of course he was fine and you bet Hog regrets babying him so hard during his illness because now he’s making demands like he’s the damn Queen himself.
Your daily routine is beginning to feel familiar and you hate every last bit of it. The only thing that seemed to change were the dreams you’d been getting. Well, lack thereof. You still get them plenty but they’ve been more spacious as of late. For once you’ve actually been able to have a sound night without waking up questioning yourself and sweating like you’d just ran a marathon. For now the sweat was saved for the gym that you’d been visiting more often after deciding you didn’t want to continue being a sloth all day. Though, in the end, the majority of your time has been spent with either junker on a couch in the lower quarters of the base they call home. You’ve grown to call it that too. By now your bedroom had grown dusty and you’d taken steps to setting up another charging station in the workshop for Aron to stay at since the little bot spent more time there with Torbjörn than with you.
A part of you feels guilty for neglecting the bot so much… but truth be told, there wasn’t much either of you had in common. Aron was an intelligence sphere that needed constant stimulation, it seemed. He was perfectly fine, and capable, helping around base and assisting others in their day to day work. After all, that’s what he was built for. Aron was far more interested in assisting others than sitting to watch a drama show with you on a couch.
Your own bed had grown to feel wrong.
After a shower one night you went back to your room to collect a few pairs of underwear. When you sat down on your bed it felt… off. Looking around the room felt empty. Which, to be fair, it was. The majority of your things were now in the lower decks, hell even your blanket. There was just a sheet on the bed. Same went for your clothes. Most of them were mixed in with Roadhog’s since he did all the laundry and folded them. You don’t even recall when he emptied out the top drawer of his dresser for you, but at some point he did and you’d claimed it as your own.
Looking around your room now made you feel like a stranger. It was an odd feeling. Discomfort was among them but it all made you wonder if you were intruding on their personal space. Them being the Junkers. After all that is their room and you basically call it your own now. The sofa was beginning to get an indent from where you’d been sleeping every night. Soon enough it was going to have a name plate on the front with a funny saying like ‘ property of ’ or something like that. The idea caused you to snicker a bit. Maybe you should ask Junkrat to make that for you; he would.In the end, you leave your old bedroom wondering when the next time you’d sleep in that bed would be. Probably not for a while.
The base is so quiet without anything going on. You say that, but there’s still plenty going on all around. People are still doing their daily jobs cleaning, training, and preparing for future missions. There are still fights going on in other countries and you see them just about every day on the news. Though you try your hardest to avoid watching it. With your current relations it’s probably best to assume you won't be leaving base anytime soon. You still haven’t spoken to Angela since the meeting and that was well over two weeks ago. The only people you’ve had brief conversations with were Torbjörn and Winston. They were limited only to the progress on your implants, wanting to know if either engineer had come up with any ideas yet as to how to suppress the energy output; but sadly nothing had come up.
So instead you walk around the base for a daily stroll. Being cooped up in the basement all day was making your head hurt and it was Hog’s idea to go for a walk. The sea looks pretty as usual. The waves are gentle and lapping at the cliffs of Gibraltar. It’s a sight you’d grown used to given your time here on the base seemed to grow endless. By now you’re itching to go out. Not even for a mission or to find any sort of ‘ answers ’ you were sure you wouldn’t be getting anytime soon, just to go out and do something. Sure, going out and finding out what the hell happened all those years ago would be nice , but it wasn’t just that. Life on the base was beginning to eat away at your sanity, you’re really not sure how the majority of these people did it; especially Junkrat and Roadhog.
Although you’d seen a handful of people come and go from the base, leaving not for the purpose of a mission that is. Those people specifically being Hana, Lucio, and Zayra. They all had their own individual reasons for leaving often. Lucio for shows, Hana for her team, and Zarya for family. It all made you jealous and envious. You wanted a good reason to leave the base. Not just a boring ‘I want to go out’ but a proper reason. The thought only left a bad taste in your mouth. Family wasn’t something you had to go back to and even if you did, you had an itching suspicion you’d only be putting them in danger.
“Slouching will hurt your back.” A motherly voice causes you to whip your head around, finding Ana standing at the top of the staircase that overhanged the cliffs of the Watchpoint. Her presence made you think back to the first time you two had spoken to one another. It was almost the exact same setting the first day you’d arrived on base. Standing one on one, quiet, with the waves breaking in the distance. Her presence then comforted you but now it only left the opposite; twisting nerves that caused your hands to twitch. Yet like the Commander and mother she is, she spotted the tiniest of movements. “Avoidance isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
Her words cause you to sigh and turn back to the ocean. “It’s not.” You agree, chewing at the inside of your cheek as she slowly steps up to stand beside you. “But I don’t exactly have many other options, do I?”
“You don’t.” She crosses her arms, keeping her eyes on the horizon with you as she joins your thoughts. “...But if you did?”
As she asks the question, she tilts her head to look at you with her good eye, waiting patiently for an answer that brews. You think on it, shoulders falling as the tension building is slowly beginning to eat away. As much as your mind wants to lie and twist the truth, Ana doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Unlike Angela, she doesn’t press for answers in a demanding way, it’s more coaxing and asking rather than demanding. “I don’t-” You stop yourself, the realisation that you were going to lie comes on too quick. You knew what you’d want to do. “I’d start by going back to Ukhta.”
She cocks a brow curiously, “Ukhta?”
“It’s where I woke up.” You say quietly. “I want to go back and look for answers. I never got the chance to and Alina said it wasn’t ever fully searched when I asked.” When Ana doesn’t respond you continue. “I was hauled out so fast and I was barely even awake when they did. That building may still house some answers. I want to go back and investigate. See if I can find anything worth knowing.”
The old commander is quiet in thought as she stares at you until finally giving a small chuckle. “You’ve put quite the thought into this.”
Her chuckle causes you to smile back. “Wouldn’t you?”
“I suppose so.” Her laughter begin to die off slowly and gives a nod before falling quiet again.
It’s your turn to ask the questions now as you glance back to her. “I want to ask something and it’s purely just for my own sanity.” As you say so her expression jumps to surprise but she nods encouragingly. “Tell me honestly, Ana. Do you trust me?”
The commander’s expression softens and she gives a little hum at the question that initially makes your nerves tense before she nods. “I do. Though I will admit your skills are concerning to most-”
You cut in, “Most including you?”
She gives a hesitant nod. “Yes, most, including me. However, I’ve never seen you as a threat to the team. Just someone who seems lost.” Her words touch you in a way you hadn’t expected, but she continues before you get the chance to speak again. “You have had plenty of opportunities to get an advantage on multiple members of the team.” She states firmly, “It would have been easy for you to take me out as well.”
That provokes a good thought, “Is that why you took me on that solo mission with you?” By now you knew it was a test to see how well you would be able to handle the circumstances, but you hadn’t even questioned the fact that Ana was possibly putting her own life on the line.
“It is.” She admits smoothly. “You put your life on the line to protect me.” As she says so, she turns to look at you with a comforting smile. It’s motherly and you can feel the love radiating off of it despite it all. For a moment you exchange a familiar gaze before turning once again to lean against the railing. Ana enjoys the silence and joins you, letting out a soft sigh of her own as she relaxes in the light breeze coming from the sea.
After a few moments of peaceful, silent bliss you let out a stark laugh that causes the woman to glance back to you expectantly. “This place is driving me nuts.” She grins and you slump down against the metal railing, “I wanna go out there!” With a wide smile you gesture your arms out towards the sea, towards the land far beyond the horizon and question why you
weren’t
there already.
She watches you and nods, “What’s stopping you?”
The answer causes your arms to fall as you think, glancing back to Ana then to the sea before giving a confused stuttering answer. “I… I don’t know.” You give a quiet ‘huh’ as you think about it. What is stopping you? Truth be told, you never asked if you
could
leave or not. It was always an assumption. “I always just assumed I can’t leave without permission… so I guess myself. I’m stopping me.”
“... Never said you had to ask.” She says with a playful tone that causes you to look at her with surprise. “But… maybe don’t do that. I’d hate to see Angela be angry with you.” The two of you share a soft laughter as you shake your head to her words.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want that either… at least not any more than she already is with me.” You sigh, leaning back against the railing in defeat.
“What makes you say that?” She tilts her head.
For a moment you struggle to find the words to properly explain it, but eventually say to hell with it. This is your chance to get something off your chest to someone you could probably relate well. “I made it all weird between everyone.” You frown, looking away from the commander to the ocean to give your mind a moment’s rest. “After the meeting things just… feel off. And it’s been almost two weeks.” Another sigh leaves you as your shoulders slump and the corners of your mouth feel heavy as they tilt downward. Ana doesn’t speak as you continue your half minded rambling, “I know what you’re going to say. They’re not angry with me. I know that, I know they’re not and it’s all just in my head because I’m just some sort of crazy damn woman who can’t get her shit together for five minutes! I know it’s all in my head. I think everyone distrusts me and y’know what they’re right. I’m not disagreeing with that. They’re right to distrust me. I’m a freak of circumstances, an anomaly who lost the coin toss and now I’m stuck here of all places.”
When you pause Ana gives an understanding nod, “It’s alright to think those things. Our mind is our greatest enemy, after all.”
“I know.” You swallow, looking down to the sea below and wondering how this all came to be to begin with. “But it’s just…I just wish I could start over again. All over again to the very beginning where-” You stop yourself abruptly and doing so causes the old soldier to stare at you expectantly.
Now that you think about it… no, you don’t. You don’t want to go back.
Your silence begins to worry the woman standing at your side and she nudges you gently to encourage you to continue. “No…I don't.” You say quietly, glancing at Ana before taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to go back.” The thought makes your stomach twist. You can’t help but feel guilt for wanting such a thing though. “If I went back to the beginning before all this… before I woke up in a chamber, before I went to the trails, and before I even agreed to the experiments… I’d still be at home. Immobile and relying on mom to take care of me. I’d have no friends. I’d be lonely and guilty for my condition.”
As your mind begins to wander you look out to the sea and take your eyes away from the woman standing beside you. “I wouldn’t have ever met Aron and Alina or Angela or any of you guys for that fact... I wouldn’t have met Junkrat or Roadhog either.” You frown, leaning both arms on the railing to rest your head over your crossed wrists. “I wouldn’t have felt at home despite feeling so different and out of place.”
By now Ana’s taken to being quiet, figuring this was your chance to get what you needed off your chest and the mother knew best that healing took time. “There’s no need to feel bad over feeling good.” She says after you stay quiet for a minute.
“But I do.” You swallow, “I
do
feel guilty. That’s my dilemma. I feel guilty for getting comfortable. I feel bad knowing that somewhere in another time in another place my mom doesn’t know what happened to me. Or she does and there was nothing she could do. She knew her daughter was left to rot somewhere and she was helpless against it? What if my mom was happy I’m gone and that I wasn’t a burden on her any longer?” When you look back at the woman she’s frowning now. That statement must have hit a sore spot for the soldier and the look she gives you causes another wave of guilt to eat at your conscience. “I-I’m sorry.” You say nervously and when Ana opens her mouth you cut her off. “I shouldn’t be thinking that way.” As you sigh, your shoulders slump in defeat and you look back out at the ocean to prevent yourself from seeing her solemn look any longer.
Ana doesn’t reply and instead steps closer, putting one arm around your shoulders to give them a gentle squeeze. The affection is surprisingly welcomed and you find yourself leaning into the woman’s motherly touch. It’s quiet again and all you can hear are the sound of the ocean’s gentle waves lapping at the rocky shores of the watchpoint. Your mind is still reflecting on your own words, thinking of what Ana said about being happy and how you’re only coming to realise you’ve been preventing yourself from being happy. “I have the right to be upset.” You say quietly, catching her attention once again as you finally collect yourself enough to give your final thoughts. “I know I do… but I shouldn’t let that be the death of me.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” She agrees, giving a slight nod as her hand pats your shoulder before dropping back to her side.
“Our mind is our greatest enemy, huh?” You repeat her words with a small smile and it seems to brighten the mood as she grins back. “I guess I need to reflect on that.”
When you begin making your walk back
‘home’
a sombre feeling has made a home deep in your gut. Not that it wasn’t unwelcomed. Your chat with Ana made you feel a bit enlightened. In the end… she was right, as usual. It also opened your eyes to a few other things such as your own inner issues you’d been ignoring. Still, nothing was going to change until you made some sort of effort. The same could be said about the rest of the world and just about anything ever. If you ever wanted to get better you’d have to put in some effort yourself. Keeping all these secrets surely wasn’t helping. Maybe if you had come clean to the team they’d have a bit more faith in you… or maybe just the opposite. But see that thought right there is exactly what’s eating away at your sanity. If you continue believing they’ll never trust you then in the end you’ll just manifest that, wouldn’t you?
Your own inner dialogue is cut short when you find familiar faces in your path. Cassidy is speaking with Torbjörn at the entrance of the Swede’s workshop. For a moment you consider ignoring them. It’d be easier and after all you still weren’t on good terms with Cole… but before you could convince your legs to change their course you find yourself walking straight towards them. By the time you make it in ear shot they stop talking and take note of you. Well, Torb does given he’s facing you. The engineer looks surprised for merely a split second before a relaxed smile rests along his features. It causes you to smile back, a spark of hope lighting in your gut that it was just your own fears making you think the man wouldn’t trust you. That was just a lie after all. You’d grown close to the man after all this time and it was your own damn fault for pushing him away like you’d been doing everyone else.
“Afternoon.” You say with a friendly nod, looking up to Cole to find the cowboy, for once, isn’t giving you a cold glare. He doesn’t look exactly happy to see you either… but his uninterested gaze is a new development.
“Good to see someone’s finally crawled out of their hidin’ hole.” Torbjörn jokes with a smug grin as he strokes his braided beard, looking far too proud at his own comment that makes you shake your head.
Instead of arguing you decide to roll with it, “Go ahead, get all your jokes out now while you can.”
He gives a shocked gasp before it grows to a big smile, “Well don’t mind if I do! I’ve got a whole list ready.”
The cowboy gives a groan and waves a hand at him. “Don’t.” He steps through the two of you, giving a little wave as he begins to make his leave. “I’ll cya’ around then.”
Just like that, Cole begins to make his leave and you watch him with a slight frown at the realisation he still wants nothing to do with you. Even Torbjörn gives a sigh at that and said sigh causes you to snap to your senses. So before the Swede could get another word in, you butt in. “Er- Sorry, I was actually wanting to talk to Cole for a bit.” You say nervously, causing the man to give a double browed stare in surprise as you give a little nod and wave. “I’ll come back later.”
As you turn to make way for Cole, the engineer gives a playful remark. “If the rabbit gets caught in the snare you know who to call!”
You’re not entirely sure what to make of that but you assume he means the best and put a bounce in your step to catch up to the cowboy who walks surprisingly fast. “Hey, Cole!” Your raised tone catches the gunslinger’s attention and he glances back over his shoulder but makes no attempt to slow his pace as you catch up. “I wanted to talk.” Now at his side you attempt to make eye contact with the man, but he’s actively avoiding looking in your direction.
“Mm?” He grunts, “I’ve got ears.”
His smug demeanour annoys you, but you take a deep breath and decide to take things slow. “...The gun range.” You say softly, keeping watch on the man’s face for any signs of discomfort or annoyance and it comes as fast as you’d expect once you begin speaking.
He gives a disgruntled look and sounds spiteful as he grits his teeth, “What
about
it?”
You bite your tongue to prevent any unnecessary comments from escaping as the urge to snap back is strong. “I want to apologise for lying back then.” That seems to catch the cowboy off guard as he stops dead in his tracks to finally look down at you. Surprisingly, his cold stare doesn’t intimidate you as it’d done before. Instead, standing your ground you prevail and keep eye contact. “I should have been honest about what I remembered and knew. You’re right.” He gives a small huff, but you continue anyway. “However, I’m only now remembering things.”
“I don’t know how I
know
how to do those things. I don’t know when or where I learned how to shoot like that and I tell you this with full honesty.” You swallow, “But I want to put my skills to use. Here and on the field. Eventually I’ll remember and when I do, I hope you believe me. For now I want to put it behind us. We both have jobs to do and I’m tired of feeling like I don’t belong.” It seems your speech had an impact on the man as he stares back with a solemn look before you extend your hand to him. “I’ll give my word on this.”
Cassidy stares back long enough to make you nervous and uncomfortable, wondering if this was the wrong decision and you’re only digging the hole deeper; but eventually he gives in. “Fine.” He says simply and shakes your hand with his good one. “I’ll take your word for it.”
As the affirming handshake ends you give a nod and smile back. “You can shoot me the next time I lie, deal?”
That seems to finally crack the man’s facade as he grins and gives a snicker. “Deal. I’ll be the first to put a bullet in your skull if I see you acting out.” He turns and begins walking again, the spurs on his boots echoing in the corridor as he continues his way off towards the mess hall. “So long.”
With that you let him go, accepting the new boundaries you’d created today and not wanting to press any further. The cowboy seems pleased enough and given he wasn’t glaring at you any longer- you suppose you did a good job. Though the tension finally dissipated and your shoulders dropped as you gave a sigh, surprising yourself by just how nervous you truly were. A moment longer and you might’ve just melted under the pressure. That’s one down, just a few more to go. You weren’t sure how to approach Angela and so, for now, you let Cole’s win be the one of the day. Instead you head back to the workshop where you find Torbjörn working on one of Tracer’s bombs.
The Swede is pleased to see you’ve returned and immediately strikes up a conversation like old times. You join in on his banter, eager to get your hands dirty as you begin helping where you can. Usually just handing the man tools as either of you chat about what you’d been up to. He jokes about all the time you’d spent away and says that he’d been relying on ‘that old bot of yours’ as he gestures towards Aron who’s helping some of the other engineers. You snicker at that, shaking your head as you watch Aron forcibly help the others and seeing that his kindness is more aggressive than you’d remembered. “All that time you’d spend in that hole has rubbed off on ‘em.” Torb suddenly says through a little laugh.
You tilt your head, “What do you mean by that?”
He grins, eyes still on the magnifier as he tinkers with the inner workings of the device. “That damn rat! You’ve rubbed off on him.”
With a little ‘hm’ you take a seat on the bench beside him. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Depends.” He glances at you. “He ‘asn’t taken anythin’ as of late.”
“I guess that’s a win.” You joke back, “But.. let me guess. Now you’re tired of him always asking instead?”
At that Torbjörn gives a loud groan and begins rambling on about how the junker wouldn’t leave him be anymore. “Every damn time he comes in ‘ere! Can I have this, are ye’ usin’ this, what about this, don’t you have a scrap pile for me ready, anything new?” He shakes his head and momentarily pauses his work to sigh before jabbing his ook hand at you. “That’s yer’ damn fault, ye’ varmint!”
“Varmint!?” You retort with a shocked gasp before the thought causes you to double over in laughter. “I am not! Don’t lump me in with him!”
“Oh, I am alright.” He huffs, “Sneaking around and gettin’ into all sorts of trouble! Yer’ varmint, ye’ are.”
The back and forth continues after that, but it’s all welcomed. For the first time in a while it’s beginning to feel as it was before. You didn’t feel out of place and if anything his playful jabs made you feel as if you belonged all over again. Almost as if it was your first month here again. You always knew Torbjörn tried extra hard to ensure your comfort. That was a given just by the way he welcomed you with open arms and didn’t hesitate to agree on building legs. You could even remember a handful of times the man invited you to lunch during work and didn’t hesitate to ask if you wanted anything. Deep down somewhere you knew it was the same situation as Ana. They’re both old parents who knew how it was for a child to feel out of place. Brigitte was around your age, so the old man must’ve seen you in her. Not that you really did. Brigitte was far more adventurous than you could ever be.
“Hello again, varmint.” A familiar, robotic voice lulled in your ear and you looked up to see Aron was hovering around you.
“Oh not you too, Aron.” You groan but give a big smile at the bot’s presence.
“I am merely joking.” He says cooly, his monoeye shifting to take in your facial features all over again. “It has been some time since we’ve spoken.”
“It has.” You nod in agreement and stand off the bench, giving Torbjörn a playful pat on the head before nodding towards the door. “I’m going to head out. I’ll see you later?”
“Ye’ know where to find me.” He grunts, giving a calm smile before diving back into the work he would’ve finished by now had it not been for your banter.
As you begin making your way out of the workshop, Aron follows just as you’d predicted. “How have you been?” You ask first, glancing up to the bot as he hovers close by.
“Well.” He states simply, “As for you? I have not seen you in quite some time.”
“It hasn’t even been a week.” You say playfully but give a nervous laugh at the thought. “I’ve been… fine. Just working through some stuff lately.” If that isn’t the truth. All this weight on your shoulders had finally taken its toll. With all this dead weight you’d been carrying around maybe soon you’ll be able to have some muscle definition. “I’ve been trying to make amends with everyone.”
“Oh?” His eye narrows as he moves in a bit closer. “And why is that?”
“Just need to.” The simple answer causes you to smile back at the bot as you bring a hand up to pat his head a little before catching yourself. “I think I just… came to the realisation that I’m not going to get any better without some changes.”
He nods, “I think I can see where you’re coming from.”
“As for you… I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much, Aron.” A frown tugs on your lips but before you can grow sad at the thought the omnic cuts in.
“Do not be. There is a time and place for everything and you’ve simply found yours.” He says with an encouraging tone.
Though this time you pick up on the implied. “You’ve been spending too much time with Torbjörn.”
“Perhaps so.” He gives a synthetic chuckle as either of you come to a stop. “I think I’ve found my place too.”
The omnic’s words cause you to give a melancholy smile, thinking back to a time where Aron was an outcast as yourself. It feels odd knowing he’s found his own way. “I think so too” You give a little chuckle at the bot’s glance towards the workshop and sigh, “Though I do admit I miss you constantly asking about the AFA… you haven’t asked in a while, y’know?”
“Its condition is optimal.” He puts simply. “I have not recorded any signs of abnormal activity since. Athena has been keeping me posted.”
“Ahh, I see, so you're working with the big dogs now?” You grin, nudging the droid playfully as his eye narrows again as if he were embarrassed. “Grown too good to come check on me yourself, huh? You’ve got Athena doing checkup scans on the reg?” The omnic gives a flustered noise before his eye rolls and you let it go for now with a little laugh. “I’ll see you around, Aron.”
His eye locks back on you and he gives another nod. “Come by the workshop more often. I’m sure Torbjörn would like to see you again, as would I.” And just like that two more boxes are checked off as the omnic hovers off, back to where he came and leaving you feeling sincere with the conversation. It seems the little bot you ripped from a plane wreckage has grown too.
Though you wonder if he’s even noticed it.
“I’m back.”
Walking into the den you see no sign of Junkrat nor Hog. The tv is on though, filling the room with noise and causing you to question where either went. You step out of your shoes at the door, taking note of the various other pairs you had there besides Hog’s. Taking the clothes in your hand to the dresser you begin putting them away in the top drawer that Hog had cleared out for you some time ago. You never did remember when he’d done it and the thought leaves you feeling a little guilty when you find that the second drawer is stuffed to the brim with his own belongings. A dark pit formed in your gut at the thought. He didn’t have to do that for you, after all this was their room and you were fully intruding on their shared space.
Looking back to the couch you thought back to this morning and how you’d thought the same thing. Were you intruding on their space without even realising it? Surely Hog would make it known if you were being a nuisance or not. Junkrat too, now that you think about it. They were both so quick to show their unhappiness in things you wondered if they were just being nice to you about everything and if they didn’t like you practically living with them.
“There ya’ are!” A high pitched voice causes your attention to snap back and you look up to find Junkrat exiting the bathroom. He eyes you curiously whilst still adjusting his trousers and makes his limping way over to where you stand at the dresser. “Bringing down some more knickers?”
You look down to see you still had a grip on the underwear you’d brought down from your bedroom. “Uhm, yeah.” His sudden appearance was bad timing as your own glum thoughts had tainted everything.
“Oooh, right right.” He seemingly eyes the dresser drawer suspiciously, tilting his head a few times before giving a little mumble of his own. “We need to get you somethin’ of yer’ own soon, don’t we?”
The suggestion causes you to give a confused, “Huh?”
“All ye’ stuff!” Rat makes a gesture to the filled drawer with his metal hand. “It’s all filled up! ‘Bout time we nabbed you somethin’ of yer’ own.”
“Oh.” You give a nod at that on instinct, but look back to the dresser with a little frown. “I mean… I could always just take some of the stuff back to my room.” Shrugging, you pick up a shirt you hadn’t worn in some time and set it on top of the dresser.
The man standing at your side gives a confused noise as you begin sorting through the items. “What you mean by that?”
“Just as I said?” You offer a confused look back and continue sorting through the items before stopping to look at everything as a whole. “In fact I should probably start talking my stuff back to my room anyway. I’m clogging up Hog’s whole system down here.” At that you give a half-hearted laugh, “By now the couch is gonna get an indent from me sleeping on it.” When you glance back to Rat to see his reaction you find to your discomfort, he’s frowning. He’s got the kicked puppy look again. One that instantly makes you feel guilty and said guilt only doubles when he gives a confused noise before reaching out to push all the items you’d taken out back into the dresser drawer. You give an unhappy huff, “Hey Rat what the hell? I’m trying to sort through my stuff-”
“And it’s not goin’ anywhere!” He says dramatically, keeping the drawer shut with both hands to prevent you from opening it again. His childlike demeanour is usually cute, but right now it only comes off as annoying.
As either of you stare at one another in silence you reflect on his words and sigh, “Rat… I’m trying to get some of my stuff out of here ‘cause I’m always taking up you two’s space.” He falters a bit and shakes his head, still standing his ground. It’s amazing to think this man is older than you with how he acts like a kid on most days. “It is, now c’mon let me get some of it out.”
“You said it yourself!” He wails, swatting away your hands when they attempt to open the dresser drawer once more. “You like it ‘ere! So that means it’s stayin’ as are you.” He ends his statement with a firm nod and the little sentence makes your chest thump.
“But I’m…” You falter, giving a little frown as he continues blocking the way. “So you don’t think I’m a nuisance? You
want
me down here?” He nods and gives a big grin.
“Where else would ya’ be, sheila? You don’t fit up there!” He shakes his head, finally letting go of the dresser to stand to his full height. When he does, he towers over you. “In fact, I think we should bring all yer’ stuff down’ere! We could even get ye’ a bed!” He steps away, gesturing to the somewhat clear wall on the other side of their current king sized bed. “Right there! It’ll be yer’ own little spot. Even get you a box to put all yer’ stuff in and maybe ol’Hog can clear our a space in the bath for ya?” He looks far too happy at the prospect and you eye him suspiciously as he waits for a response.
When you
go
to open your mouth, however, he quickly cuts you off with his frantic antics. “Or, er, maybe if yer’ tired of sleepin’ on the couch cushions you can just share a spot on’ere!” He pats the bed, smoothing out a spot in the comforter to pat it a couple more times as if to make it seem more appealing. “S’plenty of room, see?” He looks back to you with a big smile and one that finally pulls a snort from you.
“I don’t think Hog would like that… he barely likes sharing a bed with you…” You mumble the last bit, looking to the mattress only to remember that the two occasionally sleep together. It’s an odd thought. Especially given how much room Hog took up, you couldn’t imagine all three of you sharing a space together. The thought makes your ears hot for some odd reason.
“Nah, s’not like that at all! I’m sure he’d love to have a fine gal like yerself up in arms with’em!” He gives a cheeky grin and suddenly flops himself onto the mattress, stretching out to pose jokingly. “I know I would! Any right minded man would take a chance to cosy up with ya’.”
It’s your turn to be at a loss for words as you watch the junker get comfortable on the bed, still waiting on you to reply and looking oddly… flustered? His face is red. Like, red, red. His eyes keep shifting too and the longer you take to reply, the more visibly nervous he’s beginning to grow. He’s even fidgeting more than usual, one good hand propping himself up while his metal one taps the mattress anxiously.
Was that his attempt at flirting?
By the time it finally clicks in your mind, the silence has grown to be awkward and you frantically make an attempt to recover it. “Is the sofa not good enough for such a thing?” Your grin comes off just as nervous as your face begins to feel hot. By now you surely share a look. Bright red and flustered with a racing heart as you pray this wasn’t a misunderstanding.
That seemed to spark something in the maniac as he scrambles to get off the mattress, practically falling onto the floor to pick himself up and race to the couch. He jumps onto it, causing it to scoot across the floor with a loud thud before he manages to sit up on the arm. “Whaaat? Ol’ bessy here can take a few heavy beatings!” He smiles back at you, tooth gap on proud display beside his gold canines that stand out sorely.
Taking a chance, you approach and sit on the opposite end of the couch to lean against the opposing arm rest. He watches you, for once staying quiet as his eyes follow every little movement you do. “I surely wouldn’t call you right minded, y’know.” You jab at him playfully with your foot and your words cause the man to give a dramatic gasp as he grabs your robotic leg.
“Nonsense!” He waves a hand to dismiss your comment before both hands come down to inspect the sticker he’d placed on your ankle nearly two weeks back. It was still there despite the colour beginning to fade. “I’m in me right mind, sheila. Don't you worry!” He flashes you a big grin and moves his hands to allow you to rest both legs over his scrawny lap.
“Mhm?” You shake your head, deciding to change the topic for now that the tension seems to have dissipated. “So you want me to stay down here?” He nods. “And Hog doesn’t mind?” You ask more so to reassure yourself than anything. Like many had said before, it was obvious Roadhog had a soft spot for you. Otherwise you’d be treated just like Rat.
“Sure does!” He announces proudly. “He’s the one who said we should get ye’ a place to put all yer’ things.” He gestures to the dresser once again. “How much more you got in there anyway?”
“Upstairs?” You ask before shrugging, “I dunno… not much. I really didn’t have much on me when I came here, after all. The crash took all my big stuff.” Back at the foundation you knew better than to gain a massive collection of items. When you arrived at the watchpoint all you had was one suitcase and even
it
wasn’t filled all the way. Junkrat gives a little nod to that, but goes oddly quiet. It catches your attention, “What’s on your mind?”
He gives a little, “Hm?” Before looking up to you from your legs. “Well y’know… ah, actually, don’t worry ‘bout it, mate.”
The man attempts to give a smile but you see right through it to find there’s a lingering discomfort behind his eyes. “No, tell me.” You press, “I’m not gonna bite if you ask me something.”
“Well I was just thinking!” His voice peaks as he tries to explain, looking away nervously as his hands fiddle with your metal fixings. “You’ve never told me about yer’ past n’all! Hog knows all ‘bout you, but I don’t! S’not fair.” He pouts, brows knitting together as he drums his fingers on your prosthetic.
Your first defensive instinct is to say he’s never asked… but he has. A handful of times at least. It was never anything entirely serious, either. Just little questions about your family or friends. You’ve always deflected said questions, not ready to go into detail with Rat. A part of you is scared to break this odd normality you’d grown used to and comfortable with. As if telling Junkrat would somehow alter his entire perception of you. By now that was possible. Maybe in the beginning if you’d been clear from the start things wouldn’t feel so
wrong
now.
“...Well, what do you want to know?” You ask softly, synthetic heart beginning to race as you attempt to take things slow.
The opportunity to ask seems to surprise the man as he glances back at you only to look away frantically as he fumbles over his words. He says a few things you don’t catch before finally stopping to ask one thing at a time. “How’d you lose’em?” His eyes are on your legs that are still draped over his lap.
“...Gotta ask the hard question first, huh?” When he looks back at you, you know your face reads pain. It’s not a fun topic, but truth be told… you didn’t have a real answer. It was only a sore spot due to the mystery behind it all. Had you known, good or bad for the reasoning, maybe you wouldn’t be so put-off by the topic. Maybe him asking was a wake-up call to say you
didn’t
need to be so sore on the topic.
“M’sorry.” He mumbles, looking guilty he asked.
“No, don’t be. It’s okay.” You reassure with a soft smile, looking down at your own legs before rolling out your ankles at the mention of them. “I don’t know, actually. I woke up in a cryochamber and, well, this was it. I just… didn’t have them anymore.”
“Cryo-what?” He tilts his head, attention jerking back to you and now staying. “Whatcha mean?”
Right, Rat’s never looked into your records like Hog has. Hell, thinking about it now you’re not even sure the main group would
give
the man access to records like that. They weren’t exactly public and only a handful of agents knew about your past. “A cryochamber. I was put in one far back.” You sigh, “I don’t know when or how. My memory from then and now is shot.”
“Oh.” He goes quiet and glances down to your legs as you bounce them lightly. “Does it make ye’ angry or somethin?”
“Something like that.” You agree. “But prior to the chamber they didn’t have much use to begin with. I was crippled anyway. So, in a twisted way, losing them didn’t make much of a difference. If anything it’s only been a positive one given now I have prosthetics that I
can use
.”
“Well that’s good!” He jumps on the opportunity to lighten the conversation and gives a toothy smile. “Maybe not remembering ain’t so bad after all? I’d kill to forget how I lost mine.” Your first instinct is to repeat the question he’d asked you, but your better judgement takes over so you don’t. If he wanted to tell you, he would’ve. There wasn’t any use in bringing up old memories when he
just
mentioned he’d kill to forget.
He lifts his peg-leg up to shake it a bit, causing the rusted joints to squeak pathetically. It causes you to laugh though and you grab at his leg to give it a tug, causing the poor thing to pop right off. Rat gives an annoyed sound before reaching out to grab it, so you hold it out of his reach as he leans across the couch. “Oh yer’ just killing me here!” He huffs, giving up quickly to instead reach down to your prosthetics in an attempt to pop them off similarly.
You let him, watching as the junker struggles to take them off and you snicker when he ultimately curses to himself. “I have release joints.” You aid him, pointing to the knee where the buttons are. He watches as you take one off, pushing in both tabs before the device gives a click and slips right off. The light in the coils dies out as the energy output leaves it, causing the joints to go stiff. He gives a fascinated ‘oh’ and reaches for the other joint, pressing in the tabs as you’d shown him to pop it off.
“Fancy.” He claims with a big smile as he picks up one prosthetic before whistling. “These are heavy, mate!” The look he gives you causes a chuckle to rumble in your chest as he sets the leg down on the floor beside the couch. “How the hell ye’ sleep in’em?”
“Same way you do yours?” You shake his leg, finding it’s twice as light as your own… but that’s possibly due to being made from scrap. “I’m surprised this poor thing even holds your weight.” You shake your head, setting the prosthetic down in your lap to inspect it. Very… customised. The little doodles he’s done over the base makes you a bit jealous. “Then again, you’re all sticks n’bones.”
He huffs at that before placing the other leg on the floor, leaving you sitting comfortable without either prosthetic. “Am not! I got some muscle on me.”
“Maybe in your butt.” You snort, doing the same with his prosthetic to set it on the floor beside your own. “If you ate some more and actually worked out at the gym with me then maybe you’d have some definition.” As you speak you sit up more, looking down at your leg stumps with a sigh before rubbing over the knee joints. They were definitely sore. It’d been some time since you’d taken off your prosthetic and Junkrat's mention of them was a grim reminder of how sore they were. By now you’d grown so used to the feeling that it simply wasn’t there until you thought about it. Same went for your headaches.
He watches as you begin rubbing your right leg, applying some pressure on the joint to relieve the tension in it. After a moment he shifts closer to begin doing the same for your left. For a moment you hesitate, feeling awkward that his hands were on your leg… but the moment the pressure is adding you cave with a relieved sigh. “Damn… this sucks.” You snort, thumbing over the metal implants before glancing up to Junkrat who’s taken to grinning at you.
“S’not all bad.” He encourages through a smile as his hands continue working. You take note of the temperature difference between each finger, the metallic ones leaving behind a soothing coolness while the flesh ones are far warmer. “At least we get handicapped parking?” And just like that any building tension was gone all over again as you burst into laughter before slapping his shoulder. He joins in, starting off with a few flustered chuckles before eventually giving in with a cackling laugh that mimics your own.
Notes:
I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Hello everyone. 🧍
I am sorry for my disappearance. I took an unexpected hiatus for both mental and physical health reasons.
However, I am back. I have not left the fandom nor do I plan to.I will attempt at posting updates when I can! I hope to see you next time! (´∀`•)
Chapter 10: Still Alive
Chapter Text
Things are still tense between you and a few agents. Specifically Angela. You haven’t been able to muster the courage to speak with the woman properly. At this point you’re beginning to wonder if you ever would gather that courage because it’s been nearly three days since you’d spoken to Ana about everything… yet Angela is still on the ‘ to do ’ list. The guilt is beginning to eat away at you, but you simply can’t find it in yourself to speak to the woman yet. A part of you wants her to approach first and possibly ask how you’ve been doing… but it’s highly possible she’s backed off to give you the space you’d previously desired. It was all just growing to be one big cycle that was repeating endlessly. Like you’d told yourself time and time before, things weren’t going to change until someone put in effort. So you were first.
Walking into the medical wing felt odd given how long it’d been since you were there. The area was still stark clean as always, not a smidge of dirt or grime to be seen. A handful of agents were sitting in the available beds, two of which seemed to have a couple broken limbs while one had a head wrap. Upon making eye contact with them you gave an awkward wave in passing, trying your best to stay out of the way from the omnics at work in your path. Not spotting the doctor on the floor, you assumed she was properly in her office; so you made your way to it. After shuffling through a few boxes of supplies you made it around to the door and hesitated before knocking. There was a pause and you questioned if she were even here, but the door slid open after a moment.
Stepping in you found the doctor was sitting at her desk looking at a holoscreen filled with different reports and scans. She seemed tired. It showed in her eyes as she sipped from a mug and looked at you only to suddenly perk up. Her sipping stopped abruptly and she set the mug down on the counter as the door behind you closed shut. “Uhm, good morning.” You smile, trying to lessen your own discomfort as the doctor before you clears her throat.
“Good morning.” She says back, adjusting her glasses before sitting upright in her chair. “What brings you in today? Feeling well?”
The tension is there. It’s noticeable despite how hard you try to ignore it. You just can’t help but feel awkward. “Well, actually I… uhm, just wanted to drop by and say hello. It’s been a while since we’ve talked…” At that you take a seat across from her in the cramped office, taking note that it has become noticeably cluttered since your last visit. There were various papers and boxes spewn about, taking up the little space available and making the space feel claustrophobic. It was odd seeing Angela so unorganised. “Did I come at a bad time?”
She shakes her head, “No. No, not at all. If anything, you came at a perfect time.” A little laugh leaves her as she swipes away the holoscreen to better see you.
“Oh alright.” You nod, eyes still wandering nervously before finally coming to a stop on the doctor’s face. She’s tired. There are heavy bags under her eyes and they stay half-lidded as she waits for you to continue. With a deep breath you take the opportunity to speak, knowing if you linger too long the courage would be zapped away too soon. “I’m sorry about, uhm, before.”
“Don’t be.” She says firmly, shaking her head and swallowing before continuing. “You are not at fault for anything, there’s no need to apologise.” When you try to continue the woman simply interrupts you again. “We acted poorly and didn’t treat you with the dignity you deserve.”
It’s your turn to frown. “I was rude at the meeting.” She shakes her head to disagree but you continue, “It wasn’t fair of me to snap at everyone like that.”
Angela sighs, “No. It wasn’t… but it was justified. We’ve all acted poorly and distrusted someone who’s done nothing wrong. That’s not fair to you.” There’s pain behind her eyes as she sighs, bringing a hand up to adjust her glasses that frame her face well. “But you were right.” She frowns, “We have been treating you poorly and you are right to think that. You were forced into a role that you’re simply trying to fill and it’s not fair for us to doubt you.”
Not really sure what to say back, you simply nod. It falls quiet for a moment and you decide this would be a good time to change the subject. “What’s all this stuff?” You ask and gesture around the room with one hand. “I’ve never seen your office so… messy.”
The doctor seems happy at the topic change and jumps at the chance to move on. “Ah, well yes it is quite a mess.” She gives a light hearted chuckle and shakes her head as she looks around the small room. “It’s overflow from the Foundation.” She sighs, “After the latest attack on Helsinki they took in a mass of refugees. I agreed to take on the more urgent cases and direct them to proper facilities.” Looking around… you’re not sure if she should be taking urgent cases if they were going to build up like this.
“I didn’t know the Foundation needed help like that.” You frown, unhappy with the thought that Alina hadn’t told you. Then again, it had been a week since you spoke and the attack on Helsinki was merely a few days ago. You’d seen it on the news. Another group of omnic revolutionist had bombed the city and people were evacuated out to the neighboring countries. “Anything I could do to help?”
Angela merely shrugs, looking defeated and just exhausted . “At the moment, no. I appreciate the offer though.” She takes another sip from her mug and sets it down before looking up to you. “Not here at least. Mei and Ana are helping me with the workload at the moment.” She gestures to the folders lying about, “Most of these are already dealt with anyway.”
“Oh, well, that’s good.” You smile, still feeling a bit bad you didn’t get the chance to help before but there’s a time and place for everything. Though a thought occurs a second later. “What about back at the Foundation? Surely they could use some help.” You hate to jump at the excuse to leave and help… but this may be the opportunity you were looking for. “It may be good to send Aron back to help too, if anything.”
Angela stares at you for a moment and then glances around to the paperwork before giving a solemn nod. “Alright… fine. I approve.” The answer shocks you and it must show by how she gives a little smirk. “I know you are getting restless being cooped up here. This may be a good chance to get your mind off things here. Besides, Zarya had planned to go anyway. You can make the journey with her, it’ll put me at ease knowing you went with a trusting face.”
A big smile creeps up on you fast at the thought and you nod in return. “I’m sure Alina would be happy to have a few extra hands, no?” The prospect of leaving the base is one thing, but the fact you’d be able to see a familiar face was another. “I’ll take Aron with me too, get him out of Torb’s beard for a while.” The doctor chuckles at that and you smile again, finally beginning to feel comfortable once more. It had been some time since you’d had a lighthearted conversation with anyone aside from Junkrat, it felt right.
“You better behave.” She teases, scooting her mug aside to swipe the holoscreen display up. “I’ll send a message to Zarya to notify her that you are going to be joining. The orca departs Tuesday morning so be ready.” The doctor gives you a pressing look and smiles with you give a firm soldier-like nod in return.
“I promise.” You agree, unable to contain the smile resting on your scarred features. With the new mission in mind you turn on a heel to leave, wanting to go ahead and prepare now. Before you make it to the door, however, you turn to look back at the busy doctor. “Oh, and Angela?” She looks up to you. “Thank you.” And just like that another check is added to the ‘ to-do ’ list as the doctor merely smiles in return. You take your chance to leave the medibay with a bounce in your step, eager to tell the junkers about your new journey as well as notify Aron of your joint departure. A part of you wonders if the omnic will be upset you dragged him into this… but you quickly decide against it upon remembering that, in the end, the Foundation was technically his home. He’d more likely enjoy seeing Alina again, too.
Rushing downstairs almost took out your leg, but you managed to catch yourself on the last few steps to slow your role. When you step into the bedroom you find Roadhog in his usual spot on the couch while Junkrat hammers away at the workbench. The tv’s volume is high to drown out the man’s work, but upon seeing you Hog takes note to turn it down a few notches given Rat will surely stop now that you’re back. Speaking of the devil, the man instantly drops what he’s doing to stumble over a few boxes of parts to make his way over to you.
“Where the hell ya’ been, sheila?” Junkrat huffs, crossing his arms over his chest to give a look that’s more keen to a disapproving mother. “You said yew’ were goin’ out for a walk! S’been almost two hours!” As he says so he attempts to hold up the number on his fingers, but you take note he raised three fingers instead of two.
You roll your eyes, “As if anything big is going on down here anyway.” A smile still sticks to your lips as you brush by him, putting a hand to the man’s chest to give a light, playful shove to the junker as you step closer to the couch. “I went to speak with Angela for a bit.” Lately you’ve been getting better at telling the truth. Even when it comes to little things like that, you have to make an attempt to be more honest with it. “I got approved to leave the base for a bit.”
The announcement causes Hog to sit upright and Rat gives a whining squeal behind you. “Leave base!?” He shouts, stumbling over to cling to your shoulders loosely as he dramatically ‘falls’ down besides you. “You finally leavin’ us, mate? Found a better duo to roll the big world with?” When you glance down at him, he’s pouting like a kid all over again. Seriously, he’s really a character. “Ol’ Hog n’me just not good enough anymore, huh?”
“Oh stop it.” You roll your eyes, pushing his face away with one hand though he continues to hold you close as if he’s going to lose you. “No, I’m going to go back to the Foundation to lend a hand. Alina needs some help so I offered.” You take note that Hog is… eerily quiet. The man is staring at you, that you know. By now you’ve grown to be an expert at depicting his current moods. Things like where or how he places his hands, where he tilts his head, or the fact that he’s not making a single sound, not even a grunt. He’s looking at you though, so that means he’s thinking. “Well?” You finally ask, knowing that he’s got something to say. Unlike the man clinging to you, Hog actually takes a minute to think about what he’s going to say.
“Don’t like it.” He finally grunts, tilting his head back to the television program still rolling.
The answer is… not as shocking as you’d originally thought it may be. In fact it’s what you assumed he’d say. It wasn’t a kept secret that Hog was protective of you. That you could tell simply from the way he treats others compared to you. Always by your side when you’re both out together. Keeping close and huffing at people when they cross the invisible boundary. Occasionally he even does the same for Rat, though a part of you wants to believe it’s out of jealousy and not aggression.
“Mhm, that so?” You ask with a little smirk as you finally brush Jamie off of you to plop down on the couch beside Hog. “You scared I’m not gonna come back or something?”
When Roadhog doesn’t respond, Rat jumps at the opportunity to tease his companion. “Oh ho-hohooo, ol’Hog gettin’ to be a big ol’s softie for our weasel?” He snickers, leaning on the opposite arm rest to nudge at Hog playfully. The mocking quickly receives a harsh slap to the chin that causes the string-bean to wince and rub his face. Though the comment makes you flush, feeling odd when Junkrat referred to you as ‘our weasel ’ as if it meant something more than it was. It was just a nickname. You’re not sure why Rat finally decided to use a weasel as a relation, but somehow, it’s fitting. Besides, weasels are cute, so you could roll with it. If anything, it was better than the nickname Aron had previously called you by.
That felt like a deadname now.
“I’ll take that as a yes!” He announced proudly after recovering from the slap. Sometimes that man never learns.
“Shut it.” Hog huffs, still avoiding looking at you despite the mask that covered his face. Up close like this you could see his eyes through the lenses, but it was still hard to tell where he was looking.
Deciding you’d rather not see Rat get hit again, you butt in with a light laugh. “Oh don’t be like that.” You join in on the teasing, nudging Hog’s other arm gently with your elbow. “Are you trying to say you don’t have a soft spot for me? I hope not. It’d be a real shame to think one of my best mates didn’t like me.” Though you were just joking around, a part of you knew it was deeper than that. You wanted to hear him say that. Junkrat said it all the time. You were his ‘ best mate ’ and that you three were going to rule the world together. Not that you had the same ambitions as the maniac, but it was a nice thought. You liked the thought of sticking together with them.
With a red face you wait for an answer that almost seems as if it’s not going to come, but Hog eventually brings a hand up to ruffle your hair. It’s a simple gesture, but one that has your atomic heart fluttering as his large hand brushes back your bangs. To quell your growing embarrassment you attempt to diffuse the situation. “Oh, c’mon! I just fixed my hair this morning!” You whine, swatting away the hand that keeps coming back no matter how many times you slap it. The commotion causes Junkrat to join in as the man unexpectedly hops onto the couch beside you, forcing you over towards Hog so his skinny body can slide into the tight space.
“Mhm.” Hog grunts, still ruffling your hair for a moment longer before finally pulling away. Though his hand doesn’t leave entirely. Instead it finds its way to your shoulder where he tucks you close to his chest and gives a firm squeeze. The force of which causes you to wheeze before giving a whine when it doesn’t let go.
“You’re gonna kill me!” You cry dramatically, wiggling in the man’s strong grip as his hand snakes down to your waist to hold you in place. At your side, Junkrat squeezes in too. Their combined pressure forces another groan out of you as either man squeezes both sides. Eventually you give and go limp, giving a dramatic whine as Hog’s bear-grip finally loses up. Junkrat stays close though, resting all of his (albeit light) weight on top of you as he sprawls out over your lap. His head plants itself on your lap while his long legs drape over the couch’s arm.
Taking the opportunity to breathe you relax into the cushions, finding they were comfortable as always and now even more so than usual. Hog’s arm still rests around your waist while Rat’s head lays on your lap. The man gives a loud yawn and you bring a hand down to play with his fried hair. You swear the bastard is going to go bald before he’s twenty-eight. He goes quiet and closes his eyes, relaxing into the touch as do you and kick your legs up on the coffee table.
“How long you gonna’ be gone?” Roadhog’s gruff voice causes you to jolt in surprise when he speaks and when you look up at him, you find his eye is on you finally.
“Dunno.” You shrug, looking down to Rat who has turned so that he could look up at you. “Probably a week or two at least. From what it seemed, they’re really backed up there at the foundation. I’m goin’ with Zarya though, so don’t worry. I’ll be fine, I can handle myself.”
“Not worried ‘bout that.” He gives a huff that shakes the couch and causes your curiosity to peak by what he means.
“Okay..?” You say cautiously, waiting for more that never comes so eventually you settle to ask, “What are you worried about?” A glance down to Junkrat and find the man is now looking up at Roadhog as your fingers continue to comb through his hair. He hasn’t said anything yet, but you notice he has a slight frown that wasn’t there before. When Hog still doesn’t answer you attempt to break the awkward tension, “You worried you’re not gonna see me again or somethin’?” And just like that both men are avoiding eye contact with you now. Looking back down to Rat he’s actively doing so, glancing away nervously while his ears progress to a red. Then looking back at Hog he’s practically doing the same albeit much easier due to the mask.
“Oh c’mon guys, I’m gonna come back.” You give a nervous laugh as your own face begins to grow warm again. “Besides, I missed you guys when you both left. It’s my turn, you can miss me now.” A big smile has made its way to your cheeks at the thought of either of them truly missing you. For Rat it seems like a given, but for the mountain of a man it seems odd given he’s so cold with everyone. Sadly, your smile isn’t enough to break the awkward tension as either man sits quiet. It causes you to pout a bit, looking down to Rat who’s still staring off at the far wall. He seems lost in thought. His brows are knitted together, tense and thought provoking as he chews on the inside of his cheek.
“Ye’ promise?” The man finally asks, looking back at you from where he rests on your lap. For an odd reason you can’t seem to pinpoint… this question causes your warm cheeks to feel cold. You stare back for a moment before giving a slow, unsure nod as if you weren’t actually sure if it were the truth or not.
“I promise.” You finally cave, forcing the words out from a tight throat that seems to have your hands feeling clammy. Though it seems to please Junkrat enough for him to give a relieved sigh, weight dropping back onto your lap as he relaxes once more. Hog still hasn’t said anything and his silence is eating away at your sanity. The man is always quiet, but you’ve grown accustomed to the small nuisances that allow you to pick up on how he’s feeling. Between you and Rat, you’re not sure anyone else knows Hog as well as the two of you. That thought somehow makes you happy in a strange way. As if it was something only exclusive to the tightknit pack the three of you had formed.
After a few moments of silence pass you finally awkwardly ask, “You really think I’m not gonna come back?” Turning your attention to Roadhog you keep both eyes locked on him, waiting for an answer- no, demanding it.
He huffs, “No.” The man’s mask turns towards you and meets your gaze. Through the lenses you find his eyes are on you as he takes a long whiff from the canister in your hand. By now you’ve grown desensitised to seeing the man huff gas… but it’s still odd. Rat’s mentioned that it fucks with your psyche, but it’s the only thing keeping Roadhog from dropping off the deep end. You’ve grown to know the men well and know better than to ask questions about things such as a canister of gas. He’s never offered it to you nor Rat, as far as you know, so it’s better leaving it be. “You’re comin’ back.” He orders, tilting his head off to the side to let the excess gas pour out from the mask’s ports away from the two of you. Normally you’d think nothing of something as simple as that, but given their reaction before… it somehow comes off as sincere?
For Roadhog, at least.
By the time you’re standing on the launch deck there is a skinny man clinging to you loosely. He’s melting to the floor as he whines. Asking you to call on the ‘doohickey’ whenever you’re there, Junkrat gives dramatic cries as you attempt to depart. As you pat the head nestled into your shoulder, Hog finally steps over to offer a balled fist to you. “Hm?” You look at him confused, going to give a fist-bump but he denies you to instead flip his hand over and open it. In the palm of his hand a little keychain was offered. It was a miniature pachimari and taking it, you find there’s a charm on the other side that resembles one of Junkrat’s signature bombs. Unlike the pachimari, the bomb is crudely made form scrap metal and painted with mis-matched tones. The sight of the gift makes you feel warm and you smile, taking it with sincerity before looking up to the silent man before you. “I’ll be back.” You promise again, remembering the two had been anxious over the past few days from your departure.
There was some argument as to whether they could come with or not, but they weren’t approved to leave. Zarya was wholeheartedly against it and stated if they came she wouldn’t return… so that put a damper on the whole situation. In the end it was Angela’s orders that nailed their sentence to staying at the Watchpoint. It was a bit disappointing as you’d already imagined what it’d be like with them there with you… but you simultaneously didn’t want them there either. Sincerely put, because if they were there you couldn’t focus on work like you’d planned to. So instead they would stay here and you would return. Aron was joining you, however, so you’d at least have another familiar face at your side throughout the day. The omnic was excited at the prospect of returning home and actually seemed to ramble on about seeing Alina again to show her all the things he’d learned. It was an interesting sight.
The sound of the Orca’s engines beginning to whirl was the sign for departure. Your hand finds Junkrat’s head and you give the man a little pat before forcibly prying him off you. When he does pull away his face is a mess as he looks downright distraught. It actually causes you to laugh a bit, finding the expression to be far cuter than necessary, and shake your head before looking at the two only to find yourself growing sappy. The sight of them standing there as you prepare to leave is causing a sudden surge of overwhelming emotions that cause you to jump forward. With open arms you pull either of them into a hug that’s quickly tightened by Roadhog’s massive arms. The squeeze, for once, is welcomed and you find yourself laughing as your back grows sore.
There’s a whistle behind you, causing you to back to find Zarya waiting on the Orca’s ramp. You look back at the junkers before giving a big smile, “I’ll call!” The words are loud as you shout over the sound of the jet engines and either give a little nod, Junkrat’s obviously being far more burdened given his heavy pout. In the spur of the moment you lean in and with a quick sweep, you place one kiss to either man’s cheek before beginning to jog backwards to the ramp. With your bag in hand you depart, waving to either of them as you scurry on board where the ramp was already beginning to close. Through the window you watch as the ship lifts into the air and begins takeoff, causing the watchpoint below to grow small as you ascend. You could still see the Junkers, however, both were still standing at the port and growing to be mere specs as the ship left the watchpoint. They seemed shocked.
Eventually you leave the window to store your bag away, clipping the straps in place to ensure it wouldn’t fall onto your head from where you’d sit beneath it. Before you take your seat, however, Zarya is quick to catch your attention. “Why those two?” She asks bluntly, standing behind you with her arms crossed over her chest. The relationship you had with the bodybuilder was… odd. Not bad, but not great. It was only from not having much interaction with her prior. She was always busy it seemed. Either working out or leaving the watchpoint to go help elsewhere. She seemed very… motivated? You’re not sure if that’s the right word for it, but it felt right.
“I didn’t really pick them.” You snicker, checking over your bag once more before turning to face the woman. “Just sorta happened.”
“Hm.” She hums, looking you up and down a few times. Her expression is… indifferent. It’s hard to tell whether she’s disgusted by you or simply disinterested. Though her next line quickly seals your guess, “Is it to, er, go off again?” She asks, causing your brows to knit together in confusion before she eventually pulls a hand from her crossed arms to gesture to your chest.
“Oh, oh-” You follow her hand down to your chest where layers of clothing were covering the blue light that normally admitted from the AFA. “No, no it shouldn’t.” Ah, that’s right. The last time you were in a ship with the woman you almost caused the engines to go out from the overcharge. In fact, Zarya was the one who gave you the gloves. You almost never wear them anymore given you haven’t had any that scare you in some time, but you always keep them on hand just in case.
“Good.” She nods, giving a curt smile before turning to step off and take a seat at the corner booth. Following her, you sit too. Given the flight would be a few hours, you figured this would be a good opportunity to bond with the soldier and possibly another woman. Before you get the chance to spark a conversation, she does instead. “You have grown.” It seems she had the same intentions.
“Huh?” Once again you look surprised and confused.
She grins, giving a little laugh that you catch as she rests her arms on the table. “Last time you were here, were like little mouse.” She grins, pointing to the spot you’d sat in long ago upon first joining the group. “So fragile and scared, yet so strong. You still are.”
Looking to the spot you remember the first time you’d climbed into the Orca after the group had rescued you. It was so long ago that you’d almost forgotten all about it. “Thanks?” You laugh too, not really knowing what to say to that. “I mean, it’s been a while I hope I’ve grown some.”
“You have.” She nods, “More muscle.” At that she pats her own bicep a few times, gesturing that you had put on muscle but then points to her head afterwards. “Stronger. The will is there.” Her accent and speech pattern are hard to follow, but you can tell it’s all welcoming.
You grin, “Am I not a little mouse anymore?”
She gives a hearty laugh and shakes her head. “More like weasel. Cunning.”
The phrase causes you to cock a brow, “You only heard that from Rat. It doesn’t fit me at all.”
The weightlifter grins. “I think not."
You come to find the Russian woman to be quite admirable, but a part of you already knew that. She's definitely a character, like most in the group, but she’s different. More… personable. She has confidence in a way you could only imagine obtaining. The conversation flowed so smoothly, led on by the woman asking all sorts of questions that were paired with stories on both ends. You come to find she adores her family, especially her sisters who she seemed to fawn over- telling long stories about their joined childhood. By the time the Orca reaches the Foundation you feel you’ve grown closer to the bodybuilder who gushes over her sisters and occasionally offers to give you workout tips. You take them generously.
Aron is following close as you exit the ship, carrying your bag over one shoulder to take in a long, deep breath at the chilly air coming from the scenery. Despite it being almost April, Russia is still cold and endearing. The air is frigid and makes you thankful you brought your coat. A warm, welcoming, cheery voice catches your attention right as Zarya gives you a nudge as well. You look to find Alina is rushing down the tarmac, looking a bit frazzled but overwhelmingly happy to see you. There’s no hesitation as you give the woman a hug. Laughing lightly, she returns the sudden affection and with a strong squeeze you knock the breath out of the woman.
“Well you’ve grown!” She exclaims once she’s released. “Look at you! All that muscle? Someone’s been putting in the work.” She pats your arms, giving a fond smile as you flush from the compliment.
“A bit.” You admit with a shy chuckle.
Soon enough, you find yourself walking the familiar halls at the large base. It’s far busier, however. People fill the long corridors and just about every room you pass is full. At your side Alina begins rambling, filling you in on all the little details you missed since you’d been gone and how many people had come and gone. To your dismay many of the faces you’d known had passed from various attacks. It’s saddening news and something the doctor obviously didn’t want to tell you, but she felt you had the right to know. Behind you Aron follows. By now the doctor had already flushed over his new body and newfound intelligence, explaining she was excited to have him back on the foundation for a change.
The woman has been quite busy.
After the most recent attack in Finland the facility has been overwhelmed with patients and people alike, all needing homes with mouths to be fed. You feel for the workers and volunteers. Just walking around the base now you find many people running from place to place, most carrying an abundance of supplies, others food, and some other people. It’s simultaneously saddening and not all at once. A part of you feels for these people, but the other part knows they’re in good hands.
“I’m going to have to apologise now for the sleeping arrangements.” Alina suddenly breaks your thoughts as she swipes a keycard into her office. The three of you enter and come to find two twin sized cots have been squeezed into the small spot. “It looks like we’re going to be roommates until some space empties up.” She gives a tired, half-hearted laugh and steps past you before gesturing to the empty bed. “I’m really sorry, it’s all we got right now and-”
“Don’t worry, I got you.” You cut the woman off and she gives a relieved sigh. “Is it really that bad?” The question leaves your lips quietly, nervous to ask something like that yet not knowing the full circumstances of the facility is more important to you.
“It is.” She sighs, squeezing past her own bed to take a seat at her equally cluttered desk. The entire office looks like Angela’s, yet somehow worse. Piles and piles and piles of paperwork. She swipes the holoscreen up and begins showing you the numbers. “We currently are at three times capacity. I don’t know what they expect me to do with all these people.” She sighs and now that it’s just the three of you in the small space, you take note of how exhausted the poor woman seems.
You pat her back encouragingly. “Hey, you got this. Plus, me and Aron are here to help. Right, bud?”
When you look back to the bot you find he’s already beginning to scan and document the open files. “Affirmative.” He agrees, scanner still at work and not looking back.
The small woman sitting at the desk gives a tired smile before adjusting her glasses. “You’re right. Besides, many of these people are going to be transferred out to Toronto by next week. Hopefully by then you’ll get your own room, I doubt you want to share with me.” She chuckles and you find yourself laughing too.
“Not really.” You admit sheepishly, “But I’ll survive. Besides, I have two roommates as it is and I’ve been sleeping on a couch most days.”
“Roommates?” She gives an incredulous look before following it up with light surprise. “Oh, those two ? I thought you said you had your own room?”
Right. To spare yourself the embarrassment you hadn’t told Alina the extent of your relationship with the Junkers- or lack thereof. There’s nothing there, after you’re all just… three good friends. Why does that make your stomach hurt? “I do.” You say with an awkward laugh, “But I’m rarely in it. Shit, now that I think about it I actually just brought down the rest of my things last week after Rat practically forced me to.” The memory causes you to feel warm and more awkward laughs leave you in an attempt to lighten the embarrassing topic. “All my stuff is crammed into the top two drawers of our dresser and Hog even mentioned cleaning out a spot in the closet for me. I don’t have much stuff though, I dunno’ why he’s so keen on doing so…” When you catch yourself rambling a little apology leaves your lips as you look back to Alina. “Ah, I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking.”
“I can tell.” She jokes with a cheeky smile, watching as you pull your luggage onto the small mattress to begin sorting your things. “Sounds like you really like them.”
“Oh I do.” You admit casually, thinking nothing further on it than what was possibly intended. After all, you did. Had it not been for those two, you’re not sure where you’d be now. “I like them a lot. Junkrat’s a bit of an idiot… and to be fair, so is Hog- but they’re sweet. They threw a fit when I left. Moreso Rat than Hog, but I could tell he was gonna miss me. Oh right, speaking of which, I need to call them to tell them I got here safely. I promised Rat I would.”
“It’s good to know you’ve been taken care of.” She chimes with a smug grin before nudging your shoulder to catch your attention. “Should I leave the room when you call then?”
“Hm? No, it’s fine I’m sure they-” Her question confuses you for a moment, but eventually you catch what she’s finally hinting at. It causes your face to flush. “It’s not like that!” You defend, gut twisting uncomfortably as you rush to make an excuse. “We’re just friends, the three of us.”
“Sure, sure.” She shakes her head, “Sharing a room with them, sharing a dresser and closet, seeing them every day, wanting to call them as soon as possible- no, no, just friends.” A light snicker comes from the woman as she takes a seat on your bunk. “I remember back when you first met them and you called me- you went on and on and on about Junkrat. Then it was Hog, telling me all about no one understands him, everyone fears him but the two of you get along great!” She cocks a brow at your flustered face. “You really don’t think there’s anything there?”
The thought provokes an… odd feeling. You’re not sure how to explain it. A mixture of embarrassment, excitement, yet anxiety and fear all at once? It makes your face feel hot yet hands cold, clammy and clenched. “No, there’s not.” You say unsurely. “I don’t think so at least. They’ve never made a move on me or anything.”
Alina tilts her head, “Have you made a move? This isn’t the nineteenth century after all.”
Slowly, you shake your head as you think about it. “I haven’t.” Wait. You did, did you? The kisses on their cheeks was more of a friendly gesture; was it not? The thought makes you feel warmer and your blue veins begin flickering with anxious nerves.
The doctor takes note of the reaction and quickly stammers out an apology that’s through a big smile. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry- I shouldn’t tease you like that.” She chuckles nervously, “I’m just messing with you.”
“It’s alright.” You sigh, feeling oddly... conflicted. Somehow this is new to you. “We’re just friends, I can’t see either of them having interest in me like that .” An awkward and somehow upset chuckle leaves you. “Surely if they did, they’d make a move on it. Hog always says he takes what he wants- and Junkrat practically does that as it is...” With that you give a disheartened shrug and continue unpacking the essentials from your suitcase. The air had grown tense and awkward. With your back to her, you can still tell Alina is watching you as is Aron- the bot views you from the otherside of the cramped office.
Eventually you spin around with a forced smile in an attempt to press on from the topic. “Alright, we’ve got some time before it’s dark out. Where should we start?”
Each day seemed to drag on.
During your time at the Foundation you had barely any time to sit and talk with the junkers- or anybody for that fact. Sure, you knew coming here meant you’d be working… but not like this. You were on your feet practically all day, running back and forth between rooms, helping Alina gather supplies, bandaging the wounded and otherwise ill. Despite the steady flow of people leaving the foundation, more and more filled the empty bunks daily. The war was still ongoing. People were displaced. Left without a home and forced into a bed where they lie uncertain if their loved ones made it out. The stories you’d heard had broken your heart. These people were suffering and all you could do was offer the slightest bit of hope that there was relief on the other side of recovery.
Alina was taking it especially hard. It made you grateful you’d come to help. During your down time you’d find the doctor sitting at her desk a mere husk of a woman you’d seen prior. The front she put up at your arrival was impressive; the woman was stressed. She was overwhelmed with paperwork and patients alike. More and more continued to flow into her hands. All you could do was take some in hopes it’d help. By now part of your small bed had been taken over by a few stacks of paperwork you’d yet to sort through. Aron was helping you too, but after an overload of memory you ensured he was taking things slowly as well.
The bits of sleep you got were appreciated. It was hard to sleep, however. From the very first night felt oddly colder than usual and when you managed to actually fall asleep, you’d wake only to feel like you hadn’t slept at all. It was just a break in your routine, you thought. After all this time growing comfortable sleeping on a couch with one or two men, it felt weird being alone. That’s all this was. It’d pass and you’d move on like you’d done before.
Though you can’t help the looming feeling of loneliness. When did you grow so attached?
Each call back home was short. Less than thirty minutes as you were always pulled away to lend a hand elsewhere. Junkrat always asked how you were doing, but you cut him off to ask about him instead. You didn’t want to talk about the Foundation, you just wanted to take your mind off things when calling and Junkrat’s little rambles always hit just right. Though you hated the slight sadness that grazed his features whenever you’d interrupt him to either leave or change the subject. Hog was, well, Hog. With the mask, and not being in person to see him, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. At least he was listening. He’d sit next to Rat at the screen and huff occasionally at questions, even giving a few chuckles the mic managed to pick up. Their presence, despite being so far away, brought the comfort you were seeking.
That ‘ two weeks ’ quickly became three and the base was still full as when you’d arrived.
Something about transportation being backed up, you weren’t sure. Alina was frantically trying to find placements for all these stranded folk. Half of the canteen had turned into impromptu housing. Fold out cots, pillows, mattresses and the like were strewn about. Families grouped together in an attempt to keep everyone from being separated. Yet many folk were still left trying to contact their loved ones. It was a heartbreaking sight and something you simply weren’t ready to see. At least these people had a safe space and food in their stomachs. Most food served was gut filling, so at least you knew you weren’t going to starve. A few times you’d help in the kitchen, usually cutting vegetables and the like. You’d always cross Zarya there. The woman, somehow, never looked tired. You knew it was her spirit keeping her going. She had an iron will to help and it drove her engine to roar. It only made you jealous. You wish you had that fighting spirit because this woman, despite it being week three here, was still going hard. Occasionally you’d spot her in the ship hanger helping repair broken aircrafts, but the majority of the time you had no idea where she went off to.
As for you, you were placed in the lower decks the majority of time. Down there, you’d find yourself sorting through shipments and tallying up supply counts. There weren’t many recruits helping. Most help actually came from the stranded refugees who offered to volunteer given they didn’t have much else to do. It was boring work, but you got through it with daydreams and often spacing out during workloads. Each day was long, tiring, and at the end of it you just wanted to sleep.
Your shift would start at eight and end at eight, sometimes nine or ten if you decided to stay late. It wasn’t work per se… but it could be worse. You could always be on the actual frontline with the rest of the soldiers just trying to hold their own. Honestly a part of you felt guilty you weren’t out there helping. By now you’d grown to be an official Overwatch agent… you should be out there helping. Hell, even Zarya leaves to the war front each week to ensure help is available. Aron had mentioned a few times that you should ask about it, given you’d told the bot how you felt about only staying here, but you can’t bring yourself to ask. Alina needed you here after all… if they needed help on the frontline you’re sure she would have said something by now. Or maybe not. After all, Alina hadn’t seen you in battle- you’d only ever told her the stories of how things had gone. She might not know your full capabilities.
Then again… you didn’t even know your full capabilities.
When the night came to an end you went for the showers first. After a long, uneventful day of unloading and loading cargo carriers, you felt gross. Sweaty and covered in dirt from the tarmac, you really just needed a shower. The bathrooms were cramped given that other workers and civilians had all been sharing, but with your soap and shampoo in hand- you’d make do. As you stripped down from your work gear a sigh of relief left you when the soiled fabric finally left your skin. You looked to find the tan you’d been working on back in Gibraltar had finally started to fade with the cold, cloudy skies of Russia. Idly, you brought your hand up to feel over the spot where your tan line showed faintly. Junkrat had mentioned before that he used to get wicked tans back in Australia. You wished you’d gotten to see it because he’s already tan enough from never wearing a shirt- you can’t imagine what he’d look like with an actual tan. It must look silly.
The thought caused a light chuckle to slip past your lips, but you caught it with a twisted gut.
Despite it being only a month here, and that you talk to them nearly every other day, you missed the Junkers. Course you enjoy helping here. It’s definitely cleared your head and finally wiped away that layer of sadness you had at the Watchpoint, but now you can’t scrub away the loneliness of it all. Here, you really didn’t have anyone. Alina and Aron were your closest friends, but both were just as busy as you. Zarya was only occasionally and the woman was always heading out whenever you crossed paths. Their presence just wasn’t as comforting as home. Junkrat and Roadhog always made you feel like you were home. Never a need for conversation, never a need for something to do- just existing in a welcomed silence with them was comforting enough. Yet, you didn’t get that here. Each night was loud with the Foundation coming to life with the needy and injured. There was always something going on here, you swear you didn’t catch a break even when you had one.
You’d left the Watchpoint to clear your head and figure things out- but fuck you’d done everything but. The conversation you’d had with Alina the day you arrived still lingered in the back of your mind. Each night was restless given you just couldn’t get comfortable. And on top of that, you hadn’t even had the chance to mention going to Ukhta in search of answers. The glow of your atomic heart only punched that thought in further. You weren’t getting anywhere. This was an endless train with no stopping point and you were just a passenger going for the ride.
“What’s stopping you?” Ana’s words echoed in the back of your mind.
If it had all been up to your digression, you would have already gone back to Ukhta and looked in that damn pod you’d woken in before. By now you’d be on your way back home to see the Junkers. You’d be on that worn couch with two people pressed at your sides and not a damn worry in the world. The more you thought about it, the more you realised they lived that way every day. Junkrat and Roadhog did whatever they wanted, when they wanted. It’s what got them stuck working with Overwatch in the first place, but hell they’re still happy. You’re not.
Why? Are you not satisfied with your daily life? You were happy to help, they needed you and Alina thanked you every day. There were people in far worse shape yet you were moping around angry that you offered to help. They had support groups and people to relate to. There was always someone there for them yet you were here doing the same thing wondering-
“What’s missing, Six?”
An echoing voice causes you to whip your head around, but all you find is a semi-empty corridor where the remaining night shift employees walk by without a thought. You stare off at the space for a long moment. Hearing things again. It’s her voice. By now you’d grown so accustomed to hearing her. Just where had she gone? Who was she? You hated there wasn’t an answer. It felt like there was one. That it was just out of reach and you were wasting time here when you could be out there doing something.
But where exactly is there?
The sound of a phone call reverberated off the small office walls.
You look, finding the tablet on your bed was shining with a familiar man’s face as he attempted his second call of the night. Yet you wouldn’t answer. You stare and wait for the screen to fade off before giving a deep sigh. This wasn’t right. You shouldn’t be ignoring Junkrat’s calls. Since you’d been here the three of you had spoken each night, surely it’d be fine if you missed out on one call. You can just lie, say you were busy and ended up working later than usual. He knows your schedule well by now, so he’d understand if you were working late.
When you plop down on the bed you look around Alina’s cluttered office with contempt. It hadn’t changed since you arrived. It was still full of, well, everything. Boxes were still stacked, papers were still piled, the two twin bunks were pressed to either wall with personal things piled on top. It was such a depressing view, you hated it. After seeing this room for a damn month it still didn’t feel like home no matter what you did. Aron had even printed out some pictures you’d taken back on Gibraltar. They hung on the wall behind your bed and occasionally, when you were trying to sleep, you’d stare at them.
Occasionally they’d bring some comfort.
Cool metal in your palm makes you sigh.
The keychain Roadhog had given you had some wear to it. You didn’t go anywhere without it. Sort of like a good luck charm. It was usually clipped to your belt or stashed away in your pocket. Who would have thought you’d grown so attached to an inanimate object, but it was valuable to you. Looking at it now, all you can think of is how badly you wanted to go home and see them. They’d probably hug you once you got back.
God, you miss those warm hugs.
You really wish they were here right now.
You were so cold.
You can’t wait to see their faces again.
It was freezing.
Why is it so cold?
As your eyes flutter open, you find snow has fallen on your eyelashes as frost laps away at your cheeks. The chilly air surrounding you ate away at your harsh breaths, each coming out with a heavy gust of steam as your hazy mind struggles to break past the bloody injury now trickling down your cheek. Your ears are ringing, both shocked from echoing collisions and gunfire. Carefully, you reach up to touch the sore spot on your head only to find clotted blood sticking to your iced fingertips.
What happened?
It was painful to move, but you forced yourself to sit up. A staggering pain flares down your back and you take a sharp breath, gasping at the newfound pain beginning to wake now that your mind woke. There was something heavy on your stomach. You look to see debris had fallen onto your gut and legs, remains from a roof that had caved in. Looking up, you only find the dark, frozen Russian sky covered in clouds with a slow falling snow still settling in. Your hands are numb, but you managed to move them out from the debris.
In your palm you find Roadhog’s keychain, a little bomb on the back giving that Junkrat’s had survived as well. The metal was cold, but you could barely even feel it with your frozen, shaking hands. Each movement was agonising, but you forced yourself past the pain to look around through clouding dust. Bits of the Foundation’s building were gone, ate away by heavy explosions that had sirens blaring in the distance. The lights you could see were off in the distance, shining like beacons possibly from search drones as the crumbling building was sent into turmoil.
An attack? What happened? Just moments ago you were in Alina’s office.
Yet now… now you were trapped beneath layers of concrete that had piled onto your prosthetics and mid region. There was pain flaring throughout your body as you forced your cold arms to work, trying their hardest to push away what debris you could in order to uncover your legs. Each movement caused your chest to heave, the atomic heart inside working harder in order to provide energy and warmth. You could feel it surging. It caused your veins to flicker with life, an electric current beginning to ripple from your fingertips as you tossed rocks and the like aside. Each movement gradually became harder as you pressed through the pain, refusing to back down so easily.
You can’t, not like this.
A pained cry leaves your throat as you force the heavy rock aside, tears beginning to flow down your cold cheeks as adrenaline starts pumping.
I’m still alive.
Your prosthetics are damaged, but you test to move them. The toes move, one foot notably slower than the other, but they move. So you force the knees to bend. With a struggle you force your body up, chest rising and falling dramatically as you stand before the warzone that had taken over the Foundation. Gun fire finally reaches your ears as you look out over the snow compound. In the distance, screaming echoes against the Siberian front as people rush for safety. Another siren is blaring and you look to the cloudy skies to find light is sparking in the clouds, another battle emerges from their gloomy presence as an omnic ship roars past. Fires have lit the area, smoke stacks rising into the skies to join the gunfire raining from above.
I’m still alive.
Another breath and you find your body wobbling. You need to move. Carefully pushing past the broken, crumbling building, you step inside what remains of the hallway to find chunks are missing throughout. You begin to limp, one leg struggling to function and bend as you press onward. The first person you come across is a body lying limp on the floor. Tentatively, you approach and reach down to place your fingers to their neck. It’s cold. You pull away, another wave of gunfire drawing your attention to the window to see outside where in the courtyard various Russian soldiers are fighting omnic droids charging in.
What is this? You stare in disbelief. They would really attack a civilian outpost like this?
Bits and pieces of your memory are beginning to collide in the back of your mind as you look back to the hallway and to a room that only shows slight resemblance to Alina’s office. There are still papers littered about. Many of them are decorating the hallway and the grass outside. Right. The sirens had gone off. You were just about to get ready for the night. Looking down at yourself, you find you were still dressed in casual wear. A pair of sweatpants and a sweater. Both are tattered now with soot and dirt coating the gray material. The hallway is filled with dust from the attack and now that your body was beginning to wake, it was getting hard to breathe.
I’m still alive.
You turn again, looking to the courtyard once more where people are fleeing. They look like scurrying rats, all running for cover as spotlights from drones chase figures in the dark. From above lights of gunfire rain down on the field. Those rats scurrying for cover fall one by one, many colliding with the solid ground in heavy clumps of human debris. The sight is enough to take your breath away. It catches in your throat like a hooked fish. You’re unable to take another breath, shocked by the sight of an ongoing war that had been knocking on your doorstep for many months now.
This was different. It wasn’t like the fights you’d been in so far, no not at all. It was genocide.
The Foundation was a safe space, a place for refugees- the injured, the ill, the lost. Yet, here you are now watching it go up in flames. Fires from past bombs rose into the sky and provided a sting to your retina as you watch with wonder. The wound on your head had already begun to heal. The blood trickling down your cheek had come to a stop, now a dry, crackling reminder that you had been attacked.
Pushing past the fading shock, your legs begin to move again.
As you continue through the dark facility you check each room, peaking a head in to see if anyone else had survived and were trapped. To our dismay the two people you’d found so far didn’t make it. Each was cold and a pained throb would come from somewhere deep in your chest whenever you’d put your fingers to their neck. Fortunately, most of the rooms seemed devoid of people. Which means everyone had made it out… but then again, how many had escaped past that? The outside was just as dangerous. You’d been trying to ignore the muffled screams and gunfire, but they were only growing louder as you made your way to the canteen.
At some point your legs had begun moving on their own. You were sprinting. Each room check became quicker than the last as your breaths grew frantic, panic beginning to take over the dull concussion finally starting to fade. By the time you’d reached the end of the hall you put your hand to the door panel only to realise there wasn’t any power to open it. You put your fingers to the sliding door’s seam, attempting to pull the iron doors apart with no give. No matter how much muscle you’d gained in your training there was simply no way you were going to be able to do such a thing. You look around, trying to find another route only to find the only other option was to go outside. Not yet. You were unarmed and vulnerable without any sort of gear.
I’m still alive.
So you try again. Both hands on the seam, fingertips digging into the tiny crack in an attempt to find traction as a frustrated groan leaves your throat. The muscles in your arms and hands flex, trying their hardest as prosthetic feet slide on the concrete flooring as it grows to be too much of an effort. “Dammit!” You shout in frustration, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes before you open them to find the veins lining your arms have grown to a neon blue. The electric current beneath the skin is swelling and somehow, you can feel it. Each breath is beginning to feel easy as you pant, staring at your own body in shock before looking back to the door. “One more time.” You whisper, taking in a deep breath before you begin to pull once again.
The effort causes your muscles to scream and you bite back the sting as a blue glow swells from your atomic heart, shining through the thin fabric of your sweater to echo off the surrounding walls. You close your eyes as the current excels, both hands beginning to tremble and spasm as the overwhelming energy begins to make the surrounding lights flicker. There’s a reverberating pain in your chest that threatens to pull tears from your eyes as you bite back the cry, claw clenching painfully tight as energy builds in your fragile body. With shaking hands you place them flat to the metal as the current finally begins to peak.
When you open your eyes you find the lights above have turned on as the door’s control panel flickers, struggling to maintain consistent power as the core in your chest begins to swell. You hesitate before putting a hand to the control panel, trying to focus past the headache beginning to eat away at the back of your head. The migraine isn't enough to distract you this time as the panel comes to life and you give a grateful, worried laugh before hitting the button to pass the security lock. With a relieved sigh the door opens and you slip past it as soon as the space grows wide enough.
You find your arms and chest still glow with a neon blue. Energy echoing from within as your skull begins to pound with the new usage. The will to continue is stronger than the pain, however. You need to find the others. Surely Aron is fine, he’s a bot and can hide rather easily. However… Alina. Where would she be? The medical wing, more likely. It’s not too far from here, just past the cafeteria on the other side.
Once again your legs begin moving on their own, taking off in a long sprint as you begin running towards the canteen through the housing halls. With each step a new light flickers as you pass. Only long enough to light the given area before the current leaves and the area grows dark once again. The swelling in your chest is beginning to grow as the AFA comes to life. You can feel it within. Hot and eccentric.
As ready as are you.
I’m still alive.
Chapter 11: Cooperation
Chapter Text
The orca is dead silent as the passengers inside sit in tense unison. Closest to the door, Angela sits with a solemn gaze glued to the metal plating that is the floor below. With her staff clutched close to her chest, she lets out the breath she’d been holding and looks to find Ana sitting at her side. The older medic exchanges a similar gaze, a silent understanding that’s coated with empathy. Not a word has been said, murmured, or otherwise noted by the crew. It’s quiet.
It was early in the morning by the time the news hit the Watchpoint. The alert went off, waking everyone from their beds to rise into the early morning with haste. As soon as those sirens hit their ears, her heart dropped. There wasn’t time to think or speak as they piled into the ship, teams splitting by sector as they loaded. Thinking back on it she doesn’t even remember when or if they were briefed by Winston. Everything had moved so fast, before she knew it she was sitting in a plane with an angry glare boring holes into her very soul.
Across the ship sat two eerily silent men, one far more concerning than the other.
She glanced at them nervously, taking note of the scowl Junkrat was holding as his eyes continued to flicker from the window, to the doctor, to the floor, then back to her. Prior to boarding there had been an argument that caused everyone to stall as Cassidy attempted to divert the groups to their loading zones. The Junkers refused to cooperate, as per usual, more specifically Junkrat who argued back with a venomous bite to each word. Though for once it was Roadhog who held the man back from doing anything he’d otherwise regret, that large hand grabbing the smaller of the two to prevent him from lunging.
Angela had watched the commotion from the start, staying a bit behind Cole as the cowboy continued to defend his placements. Until finally the young wastelander noticed the doctor and shouted, “You!” He pointed a finger in accusation at the medic who jolted back in shock. “Yew’ should’ve never let her go, s’yer fault!” Each word seemed harsher than the last, slurred as he stepped forward only to be harshly grabbed by the man behind him.
“Quit it.” Roadhog snapped, shoving Jamison down with ease and looming above to ensure he didn’t move. “S’her choice. Cut it out.” Through the holes of his mask, a deep glare was cast down to his partner who stared back with an angry snarl. Eventually, the arguing died and the teams diverted. Yet the Junkers insisted on joining the main team into the centre field. For once, Angela agreed and reluctantly told Cole to allow it. While the other was upset, he respected the medic’s authority and didn’t pursue it further.
Yet now she was left accepting the angry look Jamison continued to give no matter how many times she’d tried to look away. He continued to glare despite the amount of times Hog had smacked the back of his head. It was so bad even Mei had mentioned she’d never seen him so angry. The doctor couldn’t help but think it was her fault. She shouldn’t have let you go... but then again, there was no news of your death either. All they knew as of the current time was that you were missing. Besides, everything was unpredictable. How was she supposed to know there would be an attack on a civilian base? It’s not like she can predict the damn weather.
Zarya had been the first to make contact. The call was broadcasted over the ship’s intercom as the bodybuilder explained all known intel. As the ship went quiet Angela glanced at the two men, finding for once they were actually listening in. They really did care about you. It was such an odd and sudden change to see them behaving, well, sort of. She understands and can reason for their outburst- despite the fault blaming as if she could possibly control what happened. But then again… If it were her loved-one out in a warzone she’d be just as worried. Then again… seeing both Junkers worried in their own individual ways made them seem more human. Sure, they were both mindless idiots who craved violence like candy, but the doctor was looking at them now and seeing people . Given all those months ago when both men were brought onto the team and everyone purposefully put a gap between them and the criminals… she couldn’t help but find it all so strange.
They were people. Mindless, dumb, insane and often cruel people. But they were people . Real, fearful people who were thinking of someone.
Angela looked at them now and her eyes fixed on Junkrat’s worried brows, the way his good foot tapped impatiently on the sheet metal, and how he bit his nails unconsciously. Then to Hog who was stiff as they listened to the current news report. His body was tense, knuckles white where he held both fists in his lap, and feet spaced as if ready to stand at any moment. When did your presence make such an impact on them? All that time you spent locked away in the lower deck really did make such an impact. She’d never seen either of them so willing to help with anything, well more with Hog.
“Everything will work out, do not worry.” A woman’s voice next to her grabbed Angela’s attention as she jerked to see Mei taking a seat on the bench next to her. The scientist put a hand to the doctor’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, “It is going to be okay! You are thinking too far into it.”
A low sigh slipped past her lips as the age finally creased the doctor’s face. “How am I?” The frown that etched into her features was deep as her throat felt tight for once in such a long time. “I let her go alone. She wasn’t ready and I knew that… now look what happened.” Her hand came up to gesture at the various people now filling in the seats of the aircraft, but more specifically the two Junkers.
Mei followed her hand and frowned as well, but nudged Angela with her elbow. “Mùyǐchéngzhōu; mǐfàn zhǔ shúle.” She smiled, waiting for the doctor to look up before she translated. “The timber is already a boat; the rice is cooked.” Yet, the worry showed in her face too. Her brows creased lightly as she thought of the others there as well. “You told me before that there is no point looking at the past. What’s done is done.” Despite her furrowed brows she smiled. “They are waiting for us, we can’t falter now.”
At the other’s words, Angela’s frown cracked into a half-hearted smile of her own as she gave a quiet giggle before nodding. “I suppose you are right.”
She nudged the other once again, “That’s the spirit.”
The remainder of the flight was almost entirely silent aside from the continuous flow of updates that played over the intercom every thirty minutes or so. Each report added something new both good and bad. The first few were done by Zarya herself who was leading the Foundation’s remaining team to stand guard against the forces continuously beating away at their last remaining outpost. She started off stating the cleared landing zones at first, but her next two updates brought worry to the team as she stated the first drop zone was captured. When her voice was no longer relayed over the intercom, instead being another soldier explaining their current outlook, Angela felt her chest growing tight.
It was unusual for any army to attack a civilian outpost. Sure, the Foundation housed plenty of military equipment and personnel, but given the circumstances it had become a primary location for displacement. If Alina’s updates were correct, they were housing at least a thousand displaced families. Her and Ana had gone over every possible reason as to why they’d attack a scarcely guarded facility… but she could only come up with the simple reason that it would be a heavy blow. A statement. The thoughts were driving her to madness. She can’t make an excuse or reason as to why such unnecessary cruelty would be probably. It was too much.
By the time the Orca approached the landing zone she’d been lost in thought and was shaken by the sudden movement of those standing. She stood too, holding her staff close to support her weight as the aircraft shook from the elements. As the doors opened her throat felt tight, watching the signal lights flicker as the unboarding zone slowly cleared. To her right she found the smaller Junker standing, still tense as before as he didn’t hunch for once. It was odd to see him so serious, but Angela put on a strong face to keep herself determined. Mei was right. They were waiting. She had to remind herself to keep things from being personal.
The doors opened and the cold breeze of the chilled, Siberian front hit her face first. She sucked in a breath and pushed onward, being one of the first to exit the aircraft only to see various vehicles waiting. Cole was already at the frontline separating the teams once again, directing each group to their located sections and moving everyone with haste. Given the circumstances they couldn’t risk flying their aircrafts straight to the frontline, so they were forced to divert and regroup back on the field from a safe recon location.
Once ordered to, she pushed ahead to the directed land rover and climbed in. A handful of others followed, one of which being Cassidy and then of course the two Junkers who had already argued with the cowboy. She kept her lips shut as the engine roared, looking out the open back to see the ship already growing small in the distance. The others in the vehicle seemed tense too. After years and years of active work, she’d never found herself to be at such a disadvantage.
…Has she grown soft in all these years?
Looking to Junkrat she found the young man looking back. There was worry in those eyes.
“Get up!”
Over the sound of gunfire your voice echoed in the hall, demanding and domineering as your electric arms grabbed the survivor to force them from the wreckage. They gave a pained cry, begging to be left as their arm flopped over your shoulder once you managed to get their feet up. “I’m not leaving you behind, there are people waiting for you!” By now your voice had grown strained from all the screaming you’d been doing, but it was impossible to talk at a reasonable level with all the noise surrounding the building. The person now weakly clutching your vest gave another sob as you forced them to walk, supporting their weight with half your own as you hauled them down the hall and away from the oncoming onslaught of gunfire echoing in the small corridor.
The adrenaline pumping through you was keeping your own sore limbs from failing. Each step was numb and every time you breathed something felt like it was scraping inside your chest, but you refused to let yourself rest. Alina had begged you to hours ago, but you told her the moment you stop there was simply no way of getting back up. So you pushed. That glow in your veins hadn’t left. It was a spot light for all to see as you ran from place to place, hauling supplies and people alike. By now the cafeteria was the last remaining safe space for all remaining survivors both soldiers and civilians alike. Whoever was found both dead, alive and injured were brought there. Zarya had barricaded the surrounding walls long ago, using anything available which included lining the remaining aircrafts and land rovers on the exterior shell. Each time you went out in search for the missing you had to climb over and through the barricades.
“I found her!” Once again your voice shouted over the crowd as you hauled the survivor back to their family. An uproar of tears came as the various members came to your aid, one taking the other to help them over to the waiting bed. You stepped off quickly, heading straight to Alina who was working on a line of injured waiting to be bandaged in any way they could. “Who’s next?”
The doctor was very frazzled, hair a mess as her hands moved faster than her mind possibly ever could. She wasn’t trained for field work but she’d been doing a damn good job keeping up with everyone. With Aron’s help she was able to sort people by who needed immediate care and who could possibly wait a few minutes. “There!” She shouted after a moment, mind finally catching up to your question before she swung her arm around to point at another group waiting against the wall. “Missing daughter and possible son-in-law.” With a firm nod you rushed over to the group, not bothering with introductions as you asked who was missing and what they looked like.
At some point you’d put yourself in charge of locating the missing. Hours ago. Hell, you weren’t even sure what time it was. Everything moved simultaneously fast and slow all at once. You didn’t ever see the same soldier nor the same survivor twice. Those who were dead were usually left behind and logged in the wristband Alina had given you. There simply wasn’t time to haul their bodies out and oftentimes… there wasn’t enough to haul out. It was painful enough to find them deceased, but it hurt more to tell their families or friends. The few people you had found dead always caused your mind to do a reality-check. It was all so surreal.
Even looking out into the surrounding fields caused your mind to whirl. Nothing felt real anymore yet it was all too fake to be a dream. The sound of gunfire was like rain in the distance. There, muffled continuous. A constant hum in the back of your mind that would occasionally come to the forefront if you took too deep of a breath. Each step was heavier than the last as you trek through the littered snow, pushing through ice and debris to reach the next building. Through your ear piece you can still hear a constant flow of new information coming in, starting with Zarya demanding a team to move to the southern gates. You sigh at the information, looking up to the night sky and questioning how much longer this will draw on.
Sudden gunfire breaks your thought as you look around, ears ringing from the sudden bullets sounding oddly closer than usual. The bullets sound different too. Not like the heavy gunfire from the artillery that had been raining down on the Foundation for hours. It’s short bursts of shots coming from an enclosed space. Your throat feels tight as you stand still, listening in for more to see which direction they were coming from. Nothing. It’s quiet. Your brows knit together tight. Despite the constantly hum of action running its course in the distance, it’s eerily quiet.
Finally, you hear it again.
Your feet begin moving before your brain has the chance to properly form a thought. Head first to the sound of bullets. They’re short, quick bursts that echo in a building’s hall. With a tight throat you breach through an open window and duck inside what remained of someone’s boarding room. Slowly, you crouch to the open door and peek down the hall. It’s quiet again. With your gun drawn you begin to slowly descend down the hall, eyes narrowed as you focus on listening for another round of ammunition to fire. But it’s quiet. The only sound is your own controlled breaths over crunching glass beneath your boots.
An itch at the back of your neck causes you to whip around, gun drawn and aimed at the target behind.
“Whoa!” Her accent is heavy as she steps back, both hands raised with one holding what appeared to be an altered SMG. “Buenos oídos, eso fue rápido…” She mutters, a grin forming at the corners of her glossed lips as she continues putting distance between either of you.
It’s the girl from before. Your eyes are narrowed at the sight of her once again, surprised and somehow not all at once. “Who are you?” The words leaving your mouth are demanding as you hold your gun to her, a firm grip on the handle and finger on the trigger with little to no hesitation. “Why are you following me?”
“Someone’s smart.” That smug grin doesn’t fade as she lowers her weapon, brows giving a suggestive raise as she clips it to her belt. “Calm down, niña. I’m not your enemy.”
“Like I’d believe that.” Spite is in those words as your teeth grit together. Yet, a thought flickers in your mind that causes a conflicted knot to form in your chest. Before, you’d watched her teleport right before your eyes. If she had the ability to do that now… why wasn’t she? “Your name.”
“Sombra.” She puts calmly, arms slowly coming to rest at her sides as she steps to the side and begins taking in your figure. Though your gun doesn’t leave her and follows the target as she makes slow, calculated steps to view you like a hawk stalking its prey. “I know who you are.”
The attitude she gives is too relaxed and causes that knot in your chest to grow tight. “What difference does that make?”
“A big one.” Her brows rise and fall before she takes another step back, both arms gesturing out casually. “Orrr maybe it doesn’t? Depends…” There’s a glint in her eyes as that smug grin turns into a devilish smile. “What difference does it make to you, D-6 ?”
That name causes the knot in your chest to drop right to your gut, but you prevent it from showing in your face. She could’ve accessed that from anywhere, right? If any documents got out about you there’d be something on there about it given Aron stated before he’d found you in a cryopod marked as such. But… the way she said it was different. There was emphasis. It was meaningful. Calculated.
Slowly, you lower your gun.
Without an answer she catches on. “There we go.” Her shoulders relax as she stands upright, both hands coming out to swipe up a display right before your very eyes. “I was hoping we’d cross paths.” She purrs, beginning to shuffle through files on a holoscreen that flickers to life right before her fingers. “You’ve got good ears, I like the fire you got. That bit of gunfire really did the trick, did it not?” Her coy smile stays put as she looks through the screen at you.
It was planned. Those shots you heard were just blanks to draw your attention. “What do you want from me?” A better question… What did she know? The way she seemed so casual about this was unsettling. She knew more. There was something. Or was it just a ploy to rope you in? It was a terrifying thought.
“Well, that just depends.” Her eyes focus back on the screen as she spreads her fingers to pull an image to the forefront of the screen. Looking at the image you find it’s a picture of a mecha hanging in a room with the letters ‘ D-06 ’ printed on the front chest plate.
Her grin only grows once more. “How much do you want to know?”
A part of you wants to say everything. Cause you do. You want to know everything, anything that could possibly aid you in this long, long search for answers that always seemed to lead nowhere. Yet here they were. Right at your fingertips and practically fed with a golden spoon by this mysterious woman now standing before you. It was a trap, you know this. You’re not stupid but shit what are you supposed to do in these types of situations? Taking the bait is too easy, but not taking it is somehow worse.
A hard swallow makes her eyes crease with her sickening grin as she swipes all the screens away. “Look, I know we’re not exactly on the same team and all… You’ve got all these big shots on your back and to you- I’m just a nobody.” Casually, she leans back against the dirtied desk in the room. She’s relaxed and you know it’s because she can blink away at any second. “But I’m a nobody that knows .”
“How do you know?” One hand is still holding the pistol at your side, ready to fire at any second with itching fingers that tap the cool metal occasionally for insurance.
She shrugs as if it’s nothing. “I’ve got connections.”
Her answer only makes your hand twitch, but you keep your mouth shut to prevent scaring her off. “What do you want from me?” You ask the question once again, knowing this wasn’t going to be a grab-n-go type situation. Obviously she wants something if she’s purposefully calculated a plan to get you alone.
A scoff leaves her as she mutters in Spanish before grunting, “Dáme un respiro…” She crosses both arms over her chest, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth before she sighs as if she’s disappointed you’re not following. “Your file said you’re an emotionless war machine.” She tilts her head, “Guess they’re not wrong. You’re no fun at all.”
“I’m not here for games.” The bite in your voice finally pierces the cold, Siberian warfront as she takes to toying with you. “You’re here hurting hundreds of people- and for what?” A hard glare has settled on your brow as you step closer, gun still at your hip and ready to fire as your free hand points to her. And so you repeat, “What do you want from me?”
That disappointment leaves her features as she looks back, but her gaze is staring off behind you. “Oh tonta, have you looked in the mirror lately?” Her comment makes your brows knit together in confusion. “We want you .”
At the mention of ’we’ you feel a cold dread at your back, but it’s too late. There’s a sharp, dull pain that rings out from your neck as something solid hits the back of your head. In a second your face is planted on the cold metal as the world around you spins. Lights are flickering all around and the pain in your chest begins to echo through each remaining limb as either arm struggles to move. Yet the moment one does something practically snaps it as it’s slammed to the ground. In the foggy you’re able to make out someone’s boot that’s holding your arm down by the bicep and squeezing each time you attempt to flex the muscle.
The woman you’d previously been talking to now crouches before you as she swipes the monitor to begin typing away. “Too, too easy.” She shakes her head whilst clicking her tongue to mock you. “For someone who’s supposed to be a trained soldier… you really lack situational awareness.” A cold laugh mocks you as she sighs with a cool smile.
Around you darkness is beginning to creep in as you struggle to maintain consciousness, but something heavy is weighing in the back of your mind. Your chest still stings in pain as you feel someone slowly picking up your fragile frame and you’re barely able to make out their shoulder as you’re tossed over it only to be face to face with the woman who played you like a deck of cards. Her finger reaches out to flick against your chin as she grins, “See you later, D-6 .”
“What’s it like in the chamber?”
A calm, collected voice is gentle in your ear as the sound of humming echoes off from various machinery filling the room. Her question comes off genuine and though she’s asked it hundreds of times before, it always feels like the first time. A long, groaning sigh leaves you at the repeated question as you pause your work to look back at her. When you do, her face is blurred. “It’s… well, like nothing. One moment I’m awake… then I’m awake again.” You shrug as you dwell on the answer you’d given a hundred times before. Yet each felt different. “Sometimes I get scared when I wake up.” As your eyes shift back to the petri dish on the table, you fidget with the dish idly. “And sometimes I’m just relieved I’m awake.”
“Hm.” She nods, still picking at her nails as she shifts her spot on the desk to view the various cords dangling from your back. “Are you ever scared you might not wake up?”
“I wouldn’t know if I was scared or not unless I knew I was transferring.” You hum at that. “The times I do know… I guess I am scared.”
“Why’s that?” She tilts her head, allowing her long hair to fall forward to frame her faceless features.
“Doesn’t everyone fear death?” The question provokes a thought in the woman beside you as she gives a slow sound of understanding. “But I guess it wouldn’t really be death, would it.”
“Not really.” She agrees and turns her to view the pod at the far side of the room.
You look too and attempt to read the numbers printed on the container’s side, but they’re too blurred to see. “It’s weird though.”
She looks back at you, “Why’s that?”
A sigh leaves your chest as you look down at your gloved hand to find the metal is warm like the rest of you. “Because instinctively, when I wake up a part of me knows I’m a clone….” You hum, looking back at the cryo chamber at the far wall to see you can finally begin reading the letters on the side. “But a part of me doesn’t know.”
“I mean, well, that’s obvious if someone is looking at you.” She looks back at the chamber too. “...But how do you know who the original is?”
For a long minute you stare off at the empty pod and read the numbers on the side.
D-06 .
“I don’t."
Muffled noises are hard to make out in the haze.
Each passing moment comes with a dull, aching throb in the back of your mind that’s begging you to soothe it. There’s nothing you can do. Neither arm wants to cooperate when you tug at the sore muscles that currently restrain you. You’d stopped. At some point, yesterday or maybe the day before- who knows what time it is- you had told Alina if you stopped, you weren’t moving again. You’d stopped. Every muscle is screaming out in agony, little jolts from your electric heart causing them to twitch and spasm occasionally. When your eyes finally manage to open the room is dark but you can still see the blue, echoing glow that bounces from your veins to the cool tile beneath. It’s a faint reminder that you’re still alive and one that beckons your body to move.
Yet you try only to find you simply can’t. There’s a pressure holding your arms down and when you look to see what it is, there’s too much fog in your vision to make out anything. Either arm is stretched, however, both being held out and down to some sort of cool surface. Your fingers are stretched too, spread out and held flat against another cold surface that you can only assume is metal. When you go to move your legs you find either prosthetic is gone, but your thighs are still strapped down to some sort of chair. The first thought that comes to mind isn’t fear. Somehow, you find that’s void and in its place is utter failure. ”This sucks.” You think, swallowing down a dry throat as you lift your head to blink up at the lights above. It’s cold. The room is freezing and blinking once again you find your shirt is gone, but thankfully your underwear still cling to your hips to allow some sense of dignity.
“Good morning.” A sickeningly soothing voice rings out behind you. It’s cold. There’s no sense of right or wrong to it, just factual.
Unable to look behind you, the person there is merely a forethought in your hazy mind. Yet their presence doesn’t ring any alarms. Your throat is too dry to speak nor do you honestly want to give them the pleasure of a response. Instead, you stay quiet. With your blurred mind finally clearing the blockade, you’re able to make out the area surrounding you. It’s a lab. One that’s alarmingly clean without a single ounce of dust or clutter in sight. There are various cords trailing beneath you that coil around one another and around the metal chair you’re currently strapped to in almost a perverted manner. When you shift again there’s a newfound weight on your back that provokes more questions your mind simply isn’t ready to deal with just yet.
“Not a hello?” The voice purrs again but this time it’s paired with clicking heels as the figure makes their way over the chaos of cords and wires now dangling from your back and neck. First their legs come into view, long and slender with far too much curve to their sleek figure. As your eyes trail up the new person’s frame you find yourself staring at the odd purple hue that taints their right hand.
Their voice is sickening. It’s tainted with pride and a sinister underlining.
“Hello.” The word leaves you in a gutted, defeated drone as your eyes finally make it to their face.
An equally grotesque smile plagues her face as her mismatched eyes bore holes into your very soul. “My name is Dr. O'Deorain, but please, call me Moira.” She states calmly, slowly stepping over each wire that dangles from above down to the floor where they tangle at your feet. “I’m a geneticist who specialises in… well, unique cases.”
The hand that you once stared at now touches your shoulder as it trails down your arm. It brings an ick to the back of your mind as goosebumps raise on fine hairs. “Why should I care?” You’re in no position to be talking back so openly, but what else was there to do? This was already a dead end.
“Well then.” There’s a surprised tone in her voice as she withdrawals her hand to wipe it on the lab coat as if she’d touched grime. “You harbour a device that piqued my interest, Ms. Six.”
A snarky scoff leaves you before you get the chance to stop it, “That’s not obvious?” You lift your head to look up at her, giving a grim look as you know there’s no escape from this prison. “What do you want from me?” That’s a question you’ve been asking a lot lately. It’s beginning to put a bad taste in your mouth. “Another weapon for you to use?”
Her nails click together as she drums them, both palms together as she continues to watch your every move you make down to the way your short hair shifts when you lift your head. “Aren’t you inquisitive?”
You huff, “I might as well be.”
“Mm.” She nods in agreement before slowly stepping away to grab a chair from an empty desk. Once it’s wheeled over she sits before you, legs crossed to allow her white lab coat to drape over either thigh. “While you were a weapon before, you are in no shape to be one again.” There’s a firmness in her voice as she folds her talons over her crossed knees. “Your body is decaying.”
“I know.” You put back just as bluntly. “Trust me I can feel it.”
“Wonderful, so you know of the dire condition you’re in.” She muses with a grin. “If you don’t release any of that potent energy you’re producing you’re going to melt from the inside out.” One hand comes up to swipe a monitor into view. It’s another scan of your body and looking at it you find it feels off. It looks different than before.
The moment she opens her mouth you cut her off with an annoyed, sarcastic laugh. “I know. You don’t need to go showing me all the ins and outs, trust me I know.” As you stare back you find she actually seems surprised. “Answer my question first.” Her brows raise curiously. “If I can’t be used as some weapon, what reason do you want me?”
“Oh no, you can still be used.” That amused grin is back as she seems to perk up at the prospect. “All I want… is your cooperation.”
This is the enemy. “With what?” Yet here you are teasing the thought of cooperating with them. What for? For answers? For a way out? For a cure? From the looks of it, they seem to know far more about you than Angela or Alina were ever able to. The thought of agreeing to any terms knowing well of what these people were capable of, what they’d already done- hell what you’ve seen with your own two eyes- it’s criminal you’re even provoking a conversation with her. “If I’m just a busted machine in your eyes, what could I possibly help with?”
“Well, right now…” As she speaks one hand moves to point to the various cords and wires dangling from the high ceiling. “To prevent an overcharge I had to route some of that lovely energy you have into the cooling system. Otherwise you would’ve taken out our entire facility.” She laughs at the thought, shaking her head before standing from the chair to push it aside. “Even asleep you seem to have a continuous output. What have you been doing to release the charge?”
“Nothing.” You shrug, thinking back to the various times you and Winston had spoken about options you could do. There really weren’t many. “Exercise mainly.”
“A healthy route.” She nods, “Nothing more?”
“Nope.” This conversation is leading nowhere. It’s making the pain in the back of your mind only double the more you listen to her ask these useless questions. It provokes the idea that maybe she’s attempting to distract you much like the girl before had done. “How do you know about me?”
Your sudden change of topic is picked up by the scientist as it shows in her features but she makes no move to speak of it. “I have been keeping track of your case for nearly a decade.” Either hand crosses behind her back as she begins taking slow, casual, paced steps before you. “The others you must know of by now-”
“The others .” You interrupt, “Are the others me? Clones of me?” The question makes your gut drop in both anticipation and fear. This was the horizon you were looking for.
“Yes. The others-” She answers simply and before her mouth can make out the next line you cut her off once more.
“Am I the original?” You lift your head to look at her once again.
Those lips curl into a sickening grin once more as she seems pleased at your sudden eagerness. “Beg your pardon?” She’s toying with you.
“Am I the original?” You ask again. “Or am I a clone too?”
“Why ask?” The geneticist is at a halt before you, staring down with mismatched eyes that spark curiosity at your growing fear. “Scared that you might not be the first?”
“No.” With the memories still coming in spaced… you’re terrified without a reason. Even if you aren’t the original, what difference does it make? You’re still a piece of yourself in some form or another. Obviously some part of your mind stayed alive during all this back and forth. “I’m scared I might be the last.”
Her brows raise again. “...Interesting.”
“...Am I not?” A new fear begins rising in your gut. “Are there still more of me?”
The woman before you pauses, seemingly stopping all movement as even her eyes stay locked on your features. Eventually, however, this breaks as she turns her back to you. “There is one other.” She states quietly, crossing her hands over the dip in her back. The shift in her demeanour makes you feel especially uncomfortable as she’s acting strange despite barely knowing her at all. Hell, you’re not even sure if these people are your enemy.
“And?” You press.
With her back to you it’s hard to judge her expressions now but her hand keeps clenching and unclenching as if she’s thinking. Though eventually she does answer. “Replicants are not made to last.” She starts, turning to view a large vat that seems to bubble endlessly from within.
“Is that what I am?” You retort, “A replicant?”
“Yes.”
The answer.
It’s one you’ve been searching for, for months now.
It hits your ears like a church bell and rings out, but the sound is far from melodic
Somehow it only brings dread.
It makes you question what happened to the original. The real you.
Did you ever make it out of the lab? Did your mother ever see you again? What happened?
New questions are quickly beginning to form and all you can do is focus on the uncomfortable, twisting pain in your gut as you attempt to wrap your head around it all. Another sentence is unable to form on the tongue as the woman before you waits, but all that’s returned is silence.
“Replicants are not made to last.” She reiterates. “Your bodies are fragile and require continuous maintenance. Most are one and done. Used for one task to be left and rot.” When she turns to you it seems any excitement has left her features as she takes in a long breath. “It’s the disgusting side of the genetic field that no one should tamper with. Keeping you alive is only prolonging the inevitable.”
Through your fleeting mind you manage to cling to each word to keep some sense of sanity. “Everyone dies though.” It’s something Ana’s said multiple times before and now something you were beginning to cling on to yourself through the various memories that seem to haunt your dreams. You’ve seen your former selves die or something similar. The others . Just how many were left? The one you keep seeing in your dreams, were they still out there and were you just a missed copy?
“Naturally.” She agrees, slowly stepping back to tower over you once more. “But a reactor like this should have never been put into something that’s made to rot. It’s a waste of such a good product.” There’s malice in those words as she sneers. “Yet removing it from you will kill you.”
At the thought a sudden laugh leaves your throat as the woman above stares down. “You don’t seem so opposed to such a thing.”
“No, frankly I’m not.” She grins back, “However… your instinct to survive with such a device is somehow more interesting.”
“Everyone’s built to survive.” You argue back yet you begin to question why you are still fighting.
“No, not everyone.” She shrugs far too casually and steps over the wires at your side before leaving sight. Behind you can still hear her stepping about and things moving against the cold work desks that are sparsely spaced about the room. “Some people give up at the first sign of failure.”
“Well I’m not just some people.” Maybe you are. After all, you’re just a copy.
“No, you’re not.” Yet somehow, she agrees.
The silence lingers on for a moment and allows you to further explore the room as far as your eyes could reach. This laboratory is rather large, almost the size of the medical wing back at Gibraltar but missing any ounce of comfort that place had. It was cold here. Each table was covered in various tasks yet to be completed. From your spot in the centre of the room you can see one desk has various petri dishes scattered about with a notebook sitting open at their side. Another desk has a jumble of wires that are similar to the ones now dangling against your frigid skin. There are various chambers here and there as well, some looking vaguely familiar while others were new to your sore eyes.
“You said you studied my case. Then tell me something.” You suddenly ask, not wanting this silence to go on any longer without another question to be answered. “What happened to me?”
“Which you?” She muses back, her voice echoing out in the otherwise empty room from the desk behind.
Your throat feels dry at the returned question as it’s torn between wanting to know about the current you and the past(s), but eventually you settle on the one that’s been driving you mad since day one. “The real me.”
“Which one’s the real you?” What a bitch.
“The original.” Truthfully, you don’t know. Any of your blurred memories could be the real one. You might not even be a copy of the original. A copy of a copy sounds crazy, but it’s exactly something that would happen to you. “What happened to her?”
Another moment of silence lingers out and right as you begin to question whether or not she’s actually going to answer, she does. “It’s unknown.” An answer you didn’t want to hear. Her heels click against the tile as she returns into view, hands now gloved as they hold a metal tray with various small items adorning it. “They were initially subjected to cryogenic storage in its early form. A bit dodgy, if you ask me. I always believed she never survived the Regenesis Trials and all that was left were these little specks of residue left behind.”
At that you give a curt laugh. “Specks of residue…” You repeat with a dry throat. “You mean me? The Replicants?”
“So smart.” She mocks, finally coming into full view before you where she sets the prepared tray down on the nearby table. “Hold still now. I am going to take a few samples.”
Dread fills your gut as you watch her prepare a needle. “You couldn’t do this while I was asleep?” Grit shows in your words as the woman before you steps closer, giving no warning before the needle skillfully slides into the vein on your neck. The pain is sharp and causes you to gasp, but it fades in mere seconds. “Do you plan to make more of me?”
“Course not.” She ignores your initial question as if it was rhetorical.
A near minute goes by as you attempt to hold still, eyes falling shut as she takes a blood sample forcefully. When the needle withdraws you give a throated groan, brows knitting together in annoyance before your eyes open once again to watch as the geneticist steps away to begin dripping heavy drops of blood into the waiting petri dishes. You watch for a minute before breaking the silence with another question, “Why?”
“I want to see what batch you are from.” She hums, watching the glass trays for a moment before stepping off to some sort of computer. There she sits, injecting the remaining blood into the waiting cell analyzer where she waits for the results.
“Batch?” You swallow, “Oh right… like baked goods. I’m D-06.” Saying it out loud makes you laugh.
“Yes, but D-06 is just the line you come from.”
That makes your atomic heart flicker with curiosity. “How so?” You raise your head to watch her again, finding now her eyes are locked on the display that states the test results. It’s too far for you to see them yourself.
“There are subversions.” Her eyes stay on the monitor. “Your strand is D-06, but you are only one version of that line. Accelerated growth is halted once removed from the genesis chamber… you seem to have been taken out a bit early in development.”
“A bit early?” It doesn’t feel like it. Clone or not… you’re still full grown?
“Yes, a bit early.” She nods, eyes flickering over to you before looking back to the screen. “I’d say from your current genetic ageing you’d be in your late teens.”
“I’m twenty.” A question at the back of your mind makes it out onto your tongue, “Then what’s wrong with my development?”
“Your innards are pre-dated.” She says cooly, “Meaning while you may feel your age everything on the inside is not. Once removed from the chamber, growth is halted. You won’t age a day physically.”
“Great, I get to look young forever.” If only you could feel that way. With her back to you, you still can’t see her face to judge her reactions. A part of you knows she’s enjoying this back and forth. Hell, she could be telling you utter bullshit so you need to take everything she says with a grain of salt… but you can’t help but believe it all. “...What about my legs?”
She hums, “What of them?”
“Do you know what happened to them?” Asking all these questions is only proving to this woman you’re at your wit’s end here, but what other choice did you have now. “Were they pre-dated or something like you said?”
“Negative.” She shakes her head, “I cannot give an answer as to what happened to them.”
“Great.” A heavy sigh leaves you at that and you hang your head in defeat. “...Why are you telling me all this?” It’s a question that’s been lingering in the back of your mind for some time, but you never knew if asking it meant the answers would stop or not. Guess this is a game of chance.
“Why not?” She muses back, “Surprised someone is willing to share?”
“A bit.” The admission comes with a sniff as you attempt to roll your shoulders out to provide some relief, but the constrictions prevent you from moving much. “Why did he start making Replicants?” You ask next, swallowing down once more as each time you do it only serves as a reminder for how thirsty you’d grown to be.
“Before omnics were a thing, soldiers were still needed.” The explanation comes casually as she continues analysing your results with her back turned. “Someone like you may call them super soldiers. Genetically altered, test tube grown people built to fight hard and die hard. However, your line was special. Given the original survived with that goo in their veins-”
At the mention of goo you cut her off, thinking you know exactly what she’s speaking of. “Goo. You mean SLC?”
She perks at that, glancing back over her shoulder with raised brows. “Someone’s done their research.”
You scoff. “If you woke up in a lab freezing to death with no memory of your past, wouldn’t you?”
“I suppose so.” She agrees with a sickening grin. “Yes SLC, that wonderful, wonderful component that seems to flow through everyone’s veins whether night or day… You were subjected to quite the dose, yet you survived.” A part of you is still trying to grasp the context of which you she speaks of, but you can only assume she means the original. “It made for a good starting point for a new strand of data. Most Replicants have their memory wiped before they ever leave the chamber. You have no memory of your past life, all you’d know is what the now was and how to do it. Yet you… you though, you remember.” The malice in her words show once more as she leans towards the monitor to view the small underlining texts. “Do you have any memory of the last Replicant?”
A part of you knows better than to cooperate with this woman, but what other choice did you have? She knows more than she’s leading on or otherwise she’s doing a good damn job acting as if she didn’t. “I do, but it’s splotchy. Here and there I remember little bits, but never the full picture.”
“Hmm.” She nods at that, brows knitting together as she finally leans back in her seat to let out a sigh. “Your genetics are exceptional. That lovely component of yours is hard at work ensuring your fragile little body doesn’t rip apart at the seams from stress.” She waves a hand as she speaks, “It’s impressive how one’s will can bend so easily. Scars left behind are merely a reminder for your remarkable existence.”
Ignoring her statement you press on. “...You said I was taken out of the chamber early?” When she perks her head you add more, “Yet when I woke I already had all these… implants.” You weren’t really sure what to call them as they still didn’t feel real nor a part of you. “Where was I before?”
“I’m not quite sure.” She seems honest in her answer as she spins in the chair, turning to face you and crossing her legs once again. “There’s no record of you and the sample I took, while similar to others, still stands out on its own.”
Great. Another dead end.
It’s your turn to go quiet now as you think. Both eyes are trained to the cold floor of the lab as you momentarily dip into your headspace to sort through the gathered list of information. Things you once knew still stood, but now there were so many more questions at the forefront of your mind- you were beginning to walk in circles here. Each new tid-bit of information seemed to only open another door that led to a cliff. There was just… so much.
“Amazed, are you?” She asks curiously.
“Lost, more so.” A sigh leaves you as your dry throat makes yet another reminder. “...Can you at least give me something to drink if you’re going to keep me strapped here?” A light laugh leaves the woman as she stands, but she steps off to the desk behind you and returns with a glass of waiting water that has a straw in it. You initially hesitate to accept her offering, not knowing if it was poisoned or otherwise drugged- but you’re so thirsty and at a loss you take it. She holds it for you as you drink down the entire glass, causing you to cough when she pulls away. “Thanks.” And somehow you manage to thank the woman that keeps you bound.
As she leaves to presumably put the glass away you look up at the ceiling that still has the cords dangling from its rafters. The longer you stare the more hopeless you begin to feel.
When she returns you prompt her with a new question.
“How long have you been keeping track of me?” At some point they obviously had taken notice and kept tabs otherwise you would have never ended up here to begin with. “Surely it had to be when I first encountered that woman… eh, what’s her name? Sombrero?”
“Sombra.” She says with an annoyed sigh as if she dislikes the saying herself. “I had always taken an interest in Dr. Howser’s works. You appearing at such a good time was merely coincidence.”
“Hm.” You nod, “And so it’s just a coincidence that you managed to kidnap me?”
“Don’t be so harsh.” She smiles, stepping up to your side to lean down into view. “We didn’t exactly expect you to come willingly either.”
“Good observation.” She had you with that one.
As she steps off once more the conversation seems to come to an end and you’re only left with more questions. The burning bud of dread in your gut has finally hit its peak, the flame is bubbling in your throat and preventing any sense of rationality from properly forming. “...So what now?” The words come out in blunt, monotone annoyance as you stare down the woman across the room. “How long do you plan to keep me here?”
“You know,” She turns on her heel to look back. “You ask many questions.”
“I think you like that.” You snort back. “What else do you expect me to do? Go all incredible hulk and break out of here?” Just to emphasise your sarcasm, you shake your arms against the bindings keeping them held down. “Besides, I haven’t gotten this many answers before.”
She grins at that, “Who’s to say I’m telling the truth?”
“I’m taking everything with a grain of salt.” Your reaction displeased her as that grin fades. “Besides, I have an itching suspicion you enjoy these types of things.”
The woman before you pauses, staring down with those mismatched, piercing eyes before slowly tapping both hands together. “I do.” She gives a low hum, eyes flickering from your face to the computer and then off at the floor once again. “After all… you are another example of humanity’s great striving for progress.”
“Progress.” It actually makes you scoff. “I wouldn’t exactly call a deteriorating clone with a bomb in their chest progress .”
“More for what you represent.” The feelings are mutual.
Another long sigh comes from you before the question returns, “So now what?”
“Want to go so soon?” She snickers at your misery and looking up into those eyes you just know she enjoys the game.
“Maybe.” You shrug, “Sort of depends if you’ve got any more answers for me or not.”
“Well that depends if you are willing to cooperate.” That grin has returned to her features as she steps closer. Before you know it one hand is pressed to your chin and tilts it up to face her. “There is so much potential here… it’s being wasted in that facility. I can rework you.”
The thought is tempting and you hate that a part of you jumps at the opportunity. Angela and Winston have been nothing but supporting to you… yet, you have to agree- you’re not getting anywhere with them. Everything always seemed to lead in one big circle and now you were practically staring down a golden ticket. Although you barely knew her, this woman seems to know far more and takes a great interest in you. If she does know as much as she’s leading on then surely there are more answers to all of these endless questions that seem to continuously pour out.
Maybe this really was the opportunity you were looking for after all.
This was wrong. You knew that from the start. These people, this woman, had taken you forcefully and now bound you in a lab. They’re the enemy, as far as you know. You’ve watched them hurt countless people and their cries still echo in the back of your mind. The people of Overwatch would never trust you again… what about Roadhog and Junkrat? How would they feel? The two are already world criminals, they probably wouldn't even blink twice if you made such a decision as long as you promised to call.
…Are you truly this selfish?
“I’ll let you think about it.”
An answer wouldn’t come from you as her hand leaves your chin. As she leaves, her heels click against the lab’s tiling and echo out in the hall as the door slides open, then shut. The room is eerily quiet aside from the occasional hum or buzz coming from various machinery scattered about.
You’re left alone, watching the test tubes bubble around the room before the sensors flick and the room is dark.