Buried in a burning flame is love in its decisive flame (complete) (Overwatch, Junkrat)

[Frick]

(This is a bit of a long one, oops. Sneezing does happen eventually.)

 

Boy, come on out from the cold

You’re lost outside there, don’t you know

~ The White Buffalo, “Wish It Was True”

 

“Wouldn’ta asked ya to come if I knew you were still sick, mate.” Junkrat eyed Roadhog as they boarded the Orca, trying to see how he was really doing. Not easy behind the mask, but he’d heard the coughing, even if Hana and Lucio, a few steps ahead and in an animated discussion about some ancient video game called Fortnite, didn’t seem to. Hog looked better, but never complained so Junkrat had to be observant.

“I’m fine. And perfectly capable of saying no to you.”

“Truer words,” Junkrat agreed with a laugh. “Pretty sure you enjoy tellin’ me no. But ya got a soft spot for the D.Va.”

Roadhog shrugged but didn’t try to deny it. “Someone needs to keep an eye on you kids.”

“Don’t know what yer talkin’ about. Always on me best behavior.” Felt Roadie rolling his eyes behind the smoked lenses of his mask. Junkrat grinned. Couldn’t let Roadie down, now could he? After all, gonna call him a kid, might as well act like one.

“Better be. I won’t be able to save you from Mei otherwise.”

Junkrat, frowning, considered. Mei might present a challenge. “Some bodyguard you are, can’t even protect me from a slip of a sheila.” Glanced at Roadhog out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t know why she hates me so much. Must be a fire n’ ice thing.”

Roadhog huffed his wheezy laugh. ‘F he was able to find Rat’s admittedly naff joke funny must be okay. Leastwise enough for a small trip to a cabin in Taos. Mei and Satya’d planned it for those what didn’t have somewhere else to go over the holiday - Rat’d assumed anyone not them. So he’d been surprised when Hana invited them to join. Sure they were friendly enough - played video games, watched movies, that sorta thing, but this was different. When Hana first brought it up late one night, after they’d been playing one of her favorite games for too many hours to count, eyes blurring with exhaustion and screen glare, Rat thought she just meant Lucio.

“What about you and Roadhog,” she’d clarified.

“Me an’ Roadie,” he’d echoed, brain lagging a beat behind.

“Gonna join? You should! You don’t have any family in Australia, do you? What else would you do?”

Neither him nor Hog had anyone in Straya, not anymore, but didn’t need mentioning. “Figured we’d hold down the Watchpoint with Winston and Morrison.”

Hana shook her head. “Lame. Holidays are supposed to be fun.”

“And Morrison’s the Anti-Fun,” Lucio added.

“Fair point, both of ya - but Mei…”

Hana waved off his concern. “She just hasn’t gotten to know you yet.” She paused, cocked a brow. “She’s a little slow to warm up.”

Lucio groaned. “Ugh. That was a Junkrat joke if I ever heard one.”

Junkrat had laughed, said he’d have to ask Roadhog and didn’t miss the look that went between them.

“So what’s with you two?” Hana was sprawled on her bed, chin propped on her fists, feet kicked up behind her. Picture of nonchalance, but her eyes were intent and curious.

Junkrat cocked his head. “What d’ya mean?”

“Like, I know he’s your bodyguard and…” She scrunched up her nose like she was looking for the right words. “Business partner? You guys pulled those heists all over the world… but… is that it?”

Lucio nudged her none-too-gently with his elbow from where he lay next to her. “Hana…”

“What? I’m just curious. You don’t mind, do you Junkrat?”

He shrugged. He didn’t, exactly. But he also didn’t, exactly, know how to answer. Never put words to it, who they were to each other. Might consider Hana and Lucio closest to friends he had other’n Roadie, still... couldn’t talk ‘bout shit like that with them. Trust didn’t come easy in Junkertown. Just because he an’ the Hog were taking their chances with Overwatch rather than prison didn’t mean it came easy here either.

Luckily Lucio saved him. “Mind or not, you shouldn’t pry.”

Hana stuck her tongue out at Lucio, but left off. When Junkrat managed to win the game he was pretty sure it was an apology. No one beat the D.Va unless she let them.

Roadhog seemed perfectly normal on the flight. Well, normal for Roadie. Spent the time reading or knitting or just looking out the window. Too calm to Junkrat’s way of thinking, and quickly bored, he dozed off. Time they landed, Rat was more than ready to get out and stretch his leg.

“Welcome to Taos,” Lena said.

The bay doors opened with a click-swish and a gust of cold, crisp air swept through the ship. Junkrat shivered - got cold nights in the Outback, but this was downright frigid. Didn’t think he’d ever get used to Christmas in winter. He tugged his jacket tighter around himself and followed Roadhog through snowdrifts to a small cabin surrounded by pines that scented the breeze sharp and clean. Put him in the mind of home - times he and Roadie would head up North, let the Queen forget about them for a bit. Just them and the bike and the road and nights under the stars. Wondered if Hog ever thought about it. Ever missed it.

“You’re quiet,” Lucio said, coming up alongside, knapsack over his shoulder.

Junkrat tried to shake off the mood. “Just thinkin’, mate.”

“Everything all right?”

“Right as,” he said - then a snowball smacked into the back of his head, dropping bits down the back of his collar and making him shudder. “Oi!”

Hana burst into laughter. “Gotcha!”

“Gonna regret that,” Junkrat called, depositing his bag carefully on the porch. Wouldn’t get on with Mei ‘f he blew up the cabin.

“Not likely!” She threw another snowball, but Junkrat ducked behind Roadhog and it thudded against Roadhog’s back and disintegrated.

Junkrat laughed and his breath puffed a cloud. “Nice aim. Good thing ya ain’t on damage.”

Hana snorted. “You’re one to talk; you just toss grenades and hope for the best.”

Junkrat didn’t argue, lobbed his own snowball. And caught Mei in the back of the head. “Ah fuck, sorry…” but almost before the words were out of his mouth she’d blasted him in the chest. He yelped as bits of snow slid down the neck of his shirt. Mei laughed and suddenly the air was full of flying snow. Loose teams and shifting alliances formed but Emily, Roadie and Satya bailed quickly. Emily offered to make tea and cocoa for everyone and Roadhog went to help. He was coughing.

Junkrat was about to ask him, again, if he was okay when one of Lucio’s snowballs - well aimed - smacked him in the cheek. Easily sidetracked, he returned fire.

The fight raged until the last light faded from the sky and the first stars appeared, and even though it was cold the heat of the battle kept them warm, and they were laughing when they tramped into the cabin, stomping snow from their boots and brushing it from their shoulders.

“Think Jesse left any whiskey last time he stayed,” Lena asked, hanging up her jacket.

“What do you think I put in the drinks?” Emily handed them each a steaming cup.

Junkrat curled his hand around the hot ceramic gratefully. The snow in his hair had melted and trickled cold water down the back of his neck. He shivered and sniffed against a dripping nose, but the alcohol burned warm in his stomach and Lucio was setting up his equipment and Mei was cooking something that smelled delicious and soon the music was bumping and they were crowded around the tiny kitchen table and Lena was boasting about some mission she’d been on, gesturing wildly with her chopsticks, and Emily asked about their heist in Dorado and maybe he played it up but even Satya was smiling and Roadie huffed his usual laugh and Rat was warm all through and it didn’t matter that his head was starting to hurt and his throat was too because he was warm and content and maybe it was going to be okay.

The warmth didn’t fade, even as he scrambled into the cold sheets of the cot. Didn’t matter that the bed was barely big enough for Roadie alone; Junkrat was used to sleeping anywhere he happened to pass out. Just lucky that lately had been next to Hog. Might be cold an’ snowy outside, wind might be whining, but here was warm and it was a good night.

 

Felt like he’d only just fallen asleep when someone shook his shoulder. “Wazzat,” he mumbled. The room was still pitch black, only the faintest hint of lightening around the edges of the curtains.

“Up, Rat. Null Sector.” Roadhog’s voice was unusually sharp and Junkrat bolted instantly and completely awake.

“Here?” He buckled on his prosthetics, already ticking through the supplies he’d brought and what could be cobbled together. No one’d expected a fight, but he ‘n Roadie weren’t never unprepared.

“Close. Morrison radioed Tracer - apparently someone tipped him off about a civilian hit a couple klicks from here.”

“Think it’s a trap?” Seemed odd for an attack in such a remote area.

Roadhog shrugged. “Possible.”

Guessed it made no difference - Overwatch couldn’t risk leaving innocents unprotected and where Overwatch went, so Junkrat and Roadhog went, too.

As he stumbled into the kitchen, Emily thrust a large paper cup of black coffee into his hand. Junkrat smiled gratefully. Heat felt good on his raw throat and the caffeine burned away the lingering fog from the corners of his brain. “Ta,” he said, but she didn’t seem to register. Her eyes followed Tracer as she paced, alternating between terse tactics with Morrison via com and equally short suggestions to Satya about setting up defenses around the cabin.

“Take Satya with you. I don’t need a babysitter,” Emily said as Tracer slipped her communicator into the pocket of her coat. Her words were defensive, but pleading. The air between them crackled, heavy with everything they didn’t say. Trying to stay out of the way, Junkrat fossicked through his bag, checking over concussion mines and bombs, making sure fuses were properly set, triggers locked but ready.

“You’ll need her...”

“Em.” Tracer interrupted, crossing the room and cupping Emily’s cheek in one hand. “We’ve been over this. If Morrison’s informant is playing us… if it’s a trap, I need to know you’re safe.”

Emily sighed and bent forward slightly, leaning her forehead against Tracer’s. “I want you to be safe, too,” she said softly.

Junkrat stood. Felt like intruding on a private thing. “Satya, show me where you’re settin’ up the sentry turrets? Got a couple a things might help.” Fortunately she nodded and he followed her out.

Wind still howling; was cold enough to feel like his nostrils froze. His lungs ached with it. Fuck - didn’t think he’d ever been this cold. Wished he’d brought a scarf. Or mittens. “I’d kill for some mittens,” he mumbled.

Satya ignored him, pointed out the turrets, hidden under the eaves.

“Guess yer used to the cold, huh,” he said, laughing a little at his own joke and positioning a couple of steel traps - would hold ‘em long enough for the turrets to dispatch ‘em.

“You think we have not heard these ‘jokes’ before? You think we do not hear the comments?” The scorn in her voice was clear, then took on a mocking echo, sounding surprisingly like McCree, “Quite a match, the Robot and the Ice Queen.”

Junkrat looked up, surprised. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” he said but Satya had stalked away. Shit. Maybe she wouldn’t have a chance to say anything to Mei. Finished rigging the traps and was about to go apologize when he caught sight of Hana motioning him over from the window of a ute. “Let’s go,” she called. Apology’d have to wait.

As he clambered into the back and squeezed next to Roadhog, Mei gave him a look that said she’d love to take him down with her endothermic blaster. He resisted the urge to shiver, case she took it as another insult. Fuck - just what he needed, a team member least as happy to kill him as Null Sector’d be.

Hana leaned over his seat. “You messed up, dude. What’d you say to Satya, anyway,” she asked, keeping her voice low.

Junkrat glanced at Mei out of the corner of his eye. Seemed to be listening to something Tracer was telling her and paying no attention to him. “Made a little joke ‘bout the cold.”

“You think before you talk? Like, ever?” Lucio shook his head.

Roadhog snorted. “No.”

“Was tryin’ to lighten the mood.”

“Moron.”

“Gonna have to agree with Roadhog on this one, man,” Lucio said. “Better stay out of Mei’s line of sight.”

Junkrat slouched down in his seat. How the hell did he keep fucking shit up? A low laugh echoed through his head. It’s not a riddle… you are a fuckup, Jamison. Shut it, he thought. Tracer was saying something about the plan of attack and he needed to listen, to focus, but his thoughts felt cloudy and muddled. He gulped at the rest of his coffee. They clearly should have left you behind. You’re going to fuck this up, too. The only question is, who will get hurt because of you? Junkrat ground his teeth. You know fuck all, he told the voice. Only laughter answered, echoing…

Suddenly Roadhog elbowed him in the side, and he realized they’d stopped. “Time to go.”

Get it together, he told himself. Gonna do this right. Ain’t no one getting hurt on my watch.

The mountains loomed above, trees pressed close on either side of the path. Light was just beginning to show at the edge of the horizon. Junkrat found himself straining to listen, like if he tried a little harder he’d be able to hear what was coming. Instead only wind whistling in the pines, crunch of their footsteps, thudding of his own heart in his chest, Roadhog’s breath through his mask.

Sudden rattle of gunshots and the group surged forward, fanning out, Lucio’s sonic amplifier lending them unnatural speed. Adrenaline spiked like a fever. Tracer darted ahead, blinking in and out of sight. They crested a hill and the forest gave way to a small cluster of cabins, like Junkertown shacks.

Metallic scream sliced the air and the battle swept over them. Dozens of omnics - Nullifiers, Slicers, Bastions, OR14s - descended on the clearing from the mountains above. D.Va’s mech fired a round of rockets, Roadhog’s scrap gun rattled, and Junkrat sent a volley of grenades over Mei in the frontline to finish off the B73 Bastion she’d frozen.

“Ha! How’d ya like that, ya fuckin’ bot?” Heart hammered in his throat. Mouth dry. Vision narrowed with focus. Roadhog, always in his peripheral. D.Va. Lucio. Had to keep them covered. Keep them safe. Reload the launcher. Toss the mines. Hard to breathe - air smoky and heavy with gunpowder. Chest aching, head aching. Coughed to clear it, but didn’t help much. Blinked sweat out of his eyes. When had it gotten warm? Reload. Fire. Where was D.Va? Someone shouting, couldn’t make out words.

Tracer raced past, dropped her pulse bomb, winked out of sight as another B73  exploded right where she’d been. The concussive blast knocked him back, made his ears ring. Lost one already… better hope she’s more attentive than you’ve been. Shook his head once, sharply. D.Va had to be okay, had to be nearby, just out of his line of sight. Wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. Lucio’s music pulsed, lending him strength. Reload. Fire. Bag was getting dangerously light. Tried to figure how many grenades left, how many bots, couldn’t be many now, but kept losing track.

Roadhog’s hook flashed out, yanked in a Nullifier, finished it with a shot to the head. Bot’s carcass dropped and Roadhog hooked another, dropping it just as quick. Junkrat grinned - watching the Hog work was a thing of beauty.

Then - flash of pink at the edge of his vision. D.Va’s mech, Lucio beside her, holding their own with fusion cannons and sonic amplifier against a handful of Slicers. Her mech was looking a little worse for wear, but nothing’d penetrated its shell. See, fuckin’ told ya she’d be fine. Rush of relief so strong left him a little dizzy.

“Fall back,” Tracer’s voice above the fray. “Back!”

“What’dya mean? Ain’t finished ‘em off yet!”

“No questions. She’s in command,” Mei snapped, following Tracer, D.Va and Lucio back toward the ute.

Screw command - not gonna let any fuckin’ bots escape an’ attack someone else.  Working fast he pieced together the few things left in his bag. Handful of grenades, a concussion mine, bit of ammonium nitrate. Rigged up a trap across the path the others had taken. Gonna be a corker of an explosion.

“Rat!” Roadhog’s voice at his left, harsh. Junkrat looked up and straight into the fusion driver of a OR14. Fuck.

Who would have thought you’d be the one getting hurt… taunting wisp through his thoughts. Fuck I am; ain’t gonna cark it to a goddamn bot. Heard Hog jamming the toploader onto his gun and dumping in the last of his ammo. Had to time it just right.

The gun roared, knocked the bot off center, scent of plasma burning his nose as the OR’s shot missed him by a hair. Had to be enough room, wasn’t gonna get another chance. Clenched his teeth, took a deep breath, gonna be close, dropped his special concussion mine, stepped on the pressure cap with his peg leg and detonated.

The air cracked and the blast launched him into the sky, backwards, away from the OR14 and the trap he’d laid. The force was as exhilarating as it was disorienting and he laughed as he flew, high pitched, manic giggles. He came down hard on ankle and peg but Roadie’s hand was on his arm, steading him and then they were running together back up the path as another whumping explosion echoed and a gout of flame shot high above the cabins, warmth and smoke enveloping them. Tossed one glance back over his shoulder and the beauty of the sight nearly brought a tear to his eyes. Nothing left of the bots but twisted lumps of metal. Perfection.

“Did ya see that shit,” Junkrat said as he squeezed close to the door to let Roadhog have room next to him. “Bloody fuckin’ bonzer, mate. Blasted those dipsticks back to the scrap heap. An’ the fire, what a beaut.” Only had to blink to feel it again. The weightlessness of flying. The OR14 exploding into scrap. The whooshing rush as air filled the explosion’s vacuum. The flames. The burn. The acrid stench of sulfur and potassium. “Fuckin’ did it. Fuckin’ won!”

“For the love of God, shut up.” Roadhog interrupted and only then did the silence of the others register.

Tracer’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, her jaw clenched. Mei stared out the window, pointedly ignoring him. Even Lucio and D.Va were quiet.

He frowned. Missed something, somewhere. Cast his thoughts back. “No one hurt?” Assumed someone woulda said immediately, or just gone without waiting for him and Roadhog.

“None of us,” Mei said shortly, emphasizing the ‘us’.

“Someone else?” Flash of Emily and Tracer forehead to forehead.

“Don’t know. Tracer can’t reach them on her com.”

Junkrat sat back. “Shit. Didn’t think...”

“Of course not! You never do. An idea crosses what passes for your mind and you’re off doing something on your own - something incredibly insane and dangerous - and paying no attention to what you’re supposed to be doing. What you were ordered to do.”

“Coulda left me.” Came out a little more defensive than he meant it, but hell, was true.

“And the team’d be two men short because Roadhog was trying to keep your stupid, scrawny ass alive.”

“What if you’d gotten hurt? Or Roadhog? We wouldn’t have known or been able to help you,” Lucio added, quietly.

“Been fine on our own plenty of times.” Swallowed hard as he said it - hadn’t really thought about Roadie gettin’ hurt. Mei’s right - you never think. Rubbed his forehead, as if he’d get rid of the voice that way.

“It’s not how we do it, Junkrat. You know that,” Hana said. The disappointment in her expression was a kick in the teeth. Rather have Mei yellin’ at him.

He did know that. He’d just forgotten. Or maybe not really understood. Made no sense. Sure Roadhog saved his ass any number of times even when it put him in the line of fire - but that was a job. Doing shit for dosh, made sense. This? This made none. Mei didn’t like him, Tracer didn’t seem to have an opinion either way - he sure as shit wasn’t as important as her Emily. An’ while he reckoned Hana and Lucio liked him fine enough, they’d known Emily and Satya far longer. Just stood to reason they’d add it up and let him ‘n Roadie fend for themselves. Simple matter of maths. Apparently he’d missed something in the calculation. Mei tallied it for you - six necessary to succeed. Subtract two and you fail. Really, Jamison - must you be so stupid?

Tracer parked the ute where it would be hidden by the Orca. The brilliant blue sky glared down at them; sun reflected off the metal of the ship and the snow covered trees and into Junkrat’s eyes. His head throbbed and he squinted against it. Adrenaline still fizzed through him, making his teeth want to chatter and his hands shake. Or maybe it was the cold again? The sweat of the fight had cooled in the winter wind. Shoved fists into his pockets, followed Roadhog and the others, head down.

Silence. No sign of bots; no sign of Emily or Satya neither. Least the traps hadn’t been tripped. Tracer reached out and rapped a pattern on the door. No more than a second passed before it was yanked wide and Emily fell into Tracer’s arms.

“You’re all right!” Emily said, breathlessly. Was like Tracer faded into Lena as he watched. The tension bled from her body as she held Emily close. “So are you,” she murmured into Emily’s hair.

“What happened,” Satya asked, putting an arm around Mei and drawing her inside. They all followed.

“There was an attack, like Morrison warned. But the settlement was deserted. No one’d been there in weeks. Lena thought it meant they’d be coming for you and Emily. You are okay?” Mei studied her carefully, like she might be hiding something.

Satya nodded. “We are. It has been quiet.”

“So much for a relaxing vacation.” Mei gusted out a breath, laughed, and just like that the tension dissipated. Lena and Emily disappeared to their room, likely to have a naughty. Satya and Mei lingered for only a second before disappearing as well. Hana and Lucio took over the vid screen for a game. Roadhog picked up his book, but Junkrat could tell he was watching Hana play more than actually reading.

Suddenly feeling like a puppet with its strings cut, Junkrat slumped. Adrenaline’d been the only thing keeping him going and now that it was gone he needed to crash. Made his slightly unsteady way to the bedroom, stripped off his shirt and pants - reeked of sweat and explosives - and flopped onto the cot without taking off his prosthetics. Waking up so early after late night whiskey was kicking his ass. He’d just rest a minute, til the headache fucked off.

 

“Junkrat? … Hey, Junkrat?”

“Mmf…?” He surfaced from sleep like he’d been underwater, disoriented.  Where…? He squinted at the sunlight streaming in the window, then discovered Emily hovering in the doorway, looking uncomfortable. Right - Taos. Vacation. And, if the way he felt at the moment was any indication, a burgeoning case of the wog. Just fucking aces. He resisted the urge to sniffle and raised a brow at Emily. “Needed somethin’, mate?”

“Um. Roadhog asked me to wake you - food’s ready, if you’re hungry.” Her gaze skittered over him, and he realized somewhat belatedly that the sheet’d slipped low over his hips. Least his bits were still covered.

“Be there in a tick,” Junkrat said. He sat up, snagged a t-shirt and yanked it over his head. “Tell him not to be such a bloody bludger next time.”

“Might, if I had the first clue what that means.”

Junkrat laughed. “Just sayin’ he’s a lazy bastard, making ya do his dirty work.”

“Not a big deal,” Emily shrugged. “He’s in the middle of a game with Hana.”

Soon as she was gone, he let himself slump back on the pillow again. His head felt heavy, thoughts slow and muddy. Truth was, he wasn’t hungry. Would really rather go back to sleep, but then they’d figure out something was wrong. He was always hungry. So he pushed himself to stand, tugged on a relatively clean pair of pants, raked a hand through his hair and headed for the stairs.

Unfortunately, standing up seemed to redistribute the congestion in his head and his nose prickled. Tried a small sniff, but it didn’t help, the sensation only increased. He hunched his shoulders, pinched his nose and squelched the sneeze into silence. Fuck it hurt, always felt like he was exploding his brain when he did that. But was better than anyone suspecting. He knuckled his nose roughly, and the itch faded.

Someone’d made brekkie for… well, whatever meal it was. Maybe scrambled eggs and toast wouldn’t kill him. And coffee. Needed fuckin’ loads of coffee. Snagged a chair between Roadie and Lucio.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Hana said, toasting him with her coffee cup, then narrowed her eyes. “Mostly, that is.”

“Yeah, you look rough, man. You okay?” Lucio asked.

“”M fine. Little too much ta drink last night, reckon.” Felt Roadie giving him a look behind the mask. Ignored him.

Lena laughed. “I’ve seen you drink way more than that. Sure you didn’t get hurt blowing yourself up?”

“Fuck no. Done that millions a times. Worked up mines special. Wanna try it?”

“Fuck no,” she echoed and he laughed.

“It’s a rush. All that power… Closest thing ta flyin’.”

“I’ll stick to the Orca, thanks.”

Waved away her concern. “Ah, it’s safe as houses.”

Lena looked meaningfully at his mech arm and he faked an expression of affront.

“That ain’t got nothin’ to do with me own work. How could you even think it?”

“How did it happen, then,” Mei asked, like she didn’t believe him.

Yes, Jamison. Tell them how it happened. Mouth went dry and it took him a second to swallow the bite of eggs he’d taken without choking. Cleared his throat. “Not really a story for dinner table convo,” he managed and took a long drink of coffee.

“A better story is how he got the gold tooth,” Roadhog said and launched into a woefully unembellished tale of the bar fight and subsequent need for a replacement tooth. Somehow this led to other stories about heists gone wrong in various ways … your fault… and the others were laughing and sure he’d laughed at his own cock ups plenty of times but there was an odd echoing edge of this laughter and it scraped against his skin like sandpaper. Rubbed a hand through his hair. Leg started jittering. Got up, took his unfinished plate and Roadhog’s empty one and left them in the sink, trying not to notice that his hand was shaking.

Listen to them laughing. You think you can trust them? In the joke, you’re the punchline. Ain’t the way it is. No? Wait until they see how weak you really are. See if they keep you around then - or if it’s just Roadhog they want. But we’re a…

A what, Jamison? What are you and Roadhog?

... A duo. Where I go, he goes. He’s my… my bodyguard. And when he gets a better offer? One where he won’t have to put up with you? Suddenly a hand touched his arm and he jumped.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Lucio said apologetically. “You sure you’re okay?” He frowned, reached toward Junkrat’s forehead. “You feel a little warm.”

Junkrat stepped back, out of reach. “I’m f…” but even as he was saying it, he realized he was about to sneeze. Shit. He just managed to twist to the side, ducking away from Lucio. “Ah’Riiish!”

“Santinho,” Lucio said.

Only a second for a breath before another hit. “Ah’Riiish-iish!”

“Deus te ajude.”

Another breath, another sneeze. “Ah’Riiish-uh!”

“Deus, te faça feliz.” Lucio handed him a tissue.

Junkrat blew his nose. “What ya sayin’, mate?”

Lucio shrugged. “Just what my grandma used to say when I was a kid. Don’t usually get to say all three, though.”

“Aww, you got Roadhog’s cold,” Hana said. “How’d that happen?” Her tone was teasing, insinuating.

“No, ‘m fine,” Junkrat said, but spoiled it by sneezing again. Least this time he had tissues.

“Gross, you’re like a plague rat,” Mei said and Hana actually laughed. See?

“Rack off,” Junkrat said. Hadn’t thought Hana would laugh at him. Not really.

“She didn’t mean anything by it.” Satya looked at him flatly.

“Fuck you.”

“Rat.” Roadhog’s voice was low, warning.

“Nah, fuck this.”  Out out out. Had to get out. Get away. He turned and, yanking his jacket from the peg by the door, slammed out.

[weepy]

That was a killer read! you've got a great sense of words. I really enjoyed it, not just as fet content but as a story too!

 

[Frick]

Thank you, @weepy! 

[Frick]

(And because I had to ... part 2. Part 3 still to come...)

At first anger kept him warm, relatively speaking. Or maybe was the fever. Didn’t need Lucio’s comments to know that his temperature was rising. Had that weird shivery/hot sensation and his skin felt too tight. Ghost arm an’ leg beginning to ache, too. He sighed, rubbed his nose. Always the way - Hog’d go down with the sniffles for a day or two and be fine, then he’d catch it and be kicked in the ass for a week. Usually didn’t really care, just hide out until it was over, but nowhere to be alone in this place. Wished he could ask Lena to give him a ride back to the Watchpoint. Plenty of places to hole up there - no one around to watch.  Even if she weren’t (reasonably) pissed at him for being a wanker, not like she’d want to fly half a day just to turn around and come back. No, he was trapped, like or not.

He rubbed his leg where it connected to the prosthetic. Didn’t seem to matter how long he’d slept, still felt dragged by exhaustion. He perched on the edge of a rock, ignoring the cold that seeped through his pants. Later than he’d thought - the sun had slid behind the iron grey mountains, making their edges glow like flame. Had to admit, a beautiful place. Clouds gathered in the west, heavy and dark. The air smelled sharp with coming snow and pine. The wind had died down to a slight breeze and other than birds chirping sleepily as they nested for the night, it was quiet. Reminded him of home. Not Junkertown, where it was never silent, but out in the High Country. What he wouldn’t give to be there now, just him and Roadhog. So much easier when it was just the two of them.

The cold was making his nose run. He sniffed, wishing he’d thought to take more tissues on his way out. Didn’t really help, just made him want to sneeze. For a minute he pressed the back of his hand to his nose, trying to stave off the inevitable… but why? No one out here to notice. So instead he just waited as the desire built to urge, then urge to need. Finally the hitching breath reached its apex and tipped him over the edge. He folded forward with a wrenching sneeze.

“AhRissshah!  Issh! HaRiiissh-uh!” Tried to grab a breath but the sneezes kept coming, tumbling over each other.  “Huh-iisssh! Issshh! AhRiish!” Shit - needed one more, but it was stuck. Breathed in slowly, carefully. Come on, come on… his whole face felt like it itched. Scrunched his nose. It was *right there*. Just not quite enough.  “Hih… Fuck…” Must look ridiculous. Least no one to see. One more breath and suddenly it burst out of him in a rush. “Ha-Ashhuh!” He shook his head slightly,  groaned with the relief of it.

“Bless you, Rat.” Roadhog said. Was a testament to the volume of the fit that he hadn’t heard Roadie’s approach.

“Ta,” he said, taking the offered tissues and blowing his nose. “Ya heard that, then?”

“Pretty sure people heard you back home.”

Felt his cheeks go hot. Well, hotter. Cleared his throat. “Think I’m allergic to somethin’,” he tried.

“Uh huh. No pollen in the middle of winter. And just cause it’s called hay fever doesn’t mean you actually get a fever.”

“I don’t...”

“It’s -1 out here and you’re sweating.”

Junkrat sighed, coughed. “Fine. ‘M sick. Yer fault, ya big lug. Splittin’ shit 50/50 don’t mean germs.”

“Told you not to spend so much time with me.” Roadhog sat down next to him on the rock.

“Who’s gonna make you ramen, ‘f I don’t?”

Roadhog laughed. “You brought that from the take-away.”

“‘Course. Didn’t need to add food poisoning to the situation.” He shivered as the breeze picked up.

“Come back inside, Rat. You’re going to freeze.”

“Not yet.” A few fat flakes of snow drifted down, and he tilted his head up to watch them. Landed light on his cheeks and hand, like feathers. “Snowing,” he said, though it was obvious. Just so lovely. Made everything feel soft and quiet.

“Perfect for Christmas Eve.” Roadie put an arm around him and he leaned into the warmth, still staring into the sky. The falling snow spun lazily on puffs of breeze. Made him feel like he was falling too, but up, into the endless darkness.

“Why’re ya here,” he asked suddenly.

“Because Hana invited us and you wanted to come. I can’t be your bodyguard from the Watchpoint.”

Junkrat looked at him sidelong. “Know that ain’t what I meant.”

“Because you’re sick and it’s fucking cold as balls out here but you won’t come inside like a normal person.”

“Ain’t what I meant, neither.” He sniffed, nose running again. Or maybe still. He’s not going to answer you, you know. He doesn’t want to tell you the truth. You’re pressing his kink button. If it weren’t for that, you’d be on your own.

Roadhog huffed a breath. “What do you mean, Junkrat?”

“Nothing. Nevermind.” He moved away from Roadhog, stood up - maybe too quickly because he swayed for a second, dizzy. Roadhog reached for him, but he stepped back. Felt like he was going to sneeze again. Didn’t want to do it here, now.

“It’s not nothing. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know why! Why are ya with me? Why do ya put up with me?” Junkrat scrubbed his nose with his fist, trying to drive back the tickle. “What are we to each other? What the hell are we even doing?”

“Rat, I really don’t think now’s a good time…” Roadhog’s voice was horribly gentle and it twisted in Junkrat’s stomach.

“Yeah, nah. Of course not.” He cleared his throat. “Just forget it. Don’t know what I’m t..talking about…” His breath hitched on the need to sneeze, but he refused to let it come.

“But...” Roadhog reached for his arm but he kept backing away.

“No, it’s fine. You...you’re right. Too fucking cold to sit here,” he turned and started back to the cabin.

“Come on, Rat, wait.” Roadhog’s footsteps crunched in the snow as he followed.

Junkrat tried to walk faster, but the sneezes caught up to him first. He curled in on himself, trying to contain them, barely managing to squelch them into silence, though the paroxysm sent him stumbling.

Roadhog took his elbow but he wrenched away. “Don’t touch me. Just don’t.” For the first time, maybe ever, Junkrat was glad for Roadhog’s mask so he didn’t have to see his expression. Didn’t have to see whatever was in his eyes - lust, pity, scorn. None of it what he wanted to see, what he longed for.

Roadhog let him go and Junkrat went back inside, slipping past the others without a word. He left his coat and clothes in a pile on the floor and crawled into his cot. Sleep, he needed to sleep. Maybe he’d wake up and the wog would be gone and everything would be better. He pulled the quilts tight around him and closed his eyes, hearing a murmur of voices, too soft to make out words.

[March Hare]

Mmmmmfff jeebus I love this. Your style speaks to me, and I do so enjoy the storyness combined with the fetishness of it. ❤️

[Frick]

@March Hare Thank you for commenting!  (So good to know that the story is enjoyed as well as the fetishness. And I'm so glad you are sill reading my babble.)

[Frick]

(This story is completely out of my control. I know where it's going, but it keeps detouring... Also - lyrics quoted in Junkrat's dream are from Quattro by Calexico) 

Junkrat tossed on the cot, trying to find relief; sleep a haze over his mind...

gotta escape this prison of skin and bone and virus and float into the black sky, swirl with the snow, spin with the stars but can’t escape - somethin’ he needs to do? No, somethin’ he wants… wants more’n he wants revenge on the Queen… more’n he wants gold… more’n he wants what he gave his limbs for… Want, take, have. Always been the way of it. But can’t take this. Can’t steal it. Can’t have it. Gotta be given… and who would give to him? Even in this weird sleep the edge of knowledge makes his stomach twist…

Fingers clenched in the sheets and the voice...

who would give to you, Jamison? No one. Scrawny little rat. Plague rat. Lab rat. Junkrat. Laughter, cold and hard, stabbing into the center of his head, throbbing behind his eyes. Did taking that name make you feel stronger? Make you believe you could leave me behind? You know I am always with you. No matter where you go. Just right here. Closer than close. tapping on his forehead... Gotta get away, gotta escape… can’t… Try to twist away, but fingernails grip him, begin tearing the skin from his right arm and his throat burns with the echo of a howl released long ago…

His body jerked and sleep slid over him again…

fragments of ideas circle his thoughts like portents. ‘Soul is bent, feels the weight of truth… falling through, left behind, no choice but to run to the mountains… out of time, must decide... to fall or run... into the eye of the storm … no sign or omen… from the day you’re born… you’ll always hit the ground running…’

He runs. Over the snow between the trees, breath rasping in his lungs, the rattle pop of gunshots echoing in the distance. Where’s Hana? Lucio? Roadhog? Can’t see them. Ahead? Behind? He opens his mouth to shout, but his voice won’t work. He runs faster. Between the trees Hana, facing down a Bastion unit, her mech gone, her blaster jammed. He runs faster. Where are his grenades? Bombs? He has nothing. Runs faster but the Bastion fires and Hana falls and he runs faster but he slips and

he is falling. Falling and snow swirling around him and he falls through the snow, through the sky… where is the ground? Shivers so hard his bones crack.  Suddenly the sharp cold of Roadhog’s hook around his middle, pulling him in, pulling him close against Roadie’s body and the snow melts with the heat of his skin. At first the warmth is a comfort, bringing feeling back into his body where he’d gone numb. Roadie cups his cheek with one hand and he closes his eyes, yes… leans into the comfort, the safety… and Roadhog’s arms go around him, hold him tight… too tight… too hot, burning, like he is too close to the blast that destroyed the Omnium, flesh melting from his bones. “You think I want someone like you? Weak? Pathetic?” Rumble of laughter. Flames lick his skin, his lungs, and Roadhog watches him burn, fire reflecting in his blank masked eyes and

Junkrat gasped awake, eyes burning, skin burning with fever. Bright ghost-pain in his arm, his leg. Heart pounded against the cage of his ribs. He scrubbed a hand over his face, then over his chest, checking the skin, relieved to find it unburned. Dreaming, he told himself. Were dreaming. Focus - be here, now - not there, then.  Scratchy sheets. Cot spring poking his back. Roadhog snoring.

He sat up slowly, staring through the dark, could just make out the hill of Roadhog’s stomach, rising and falling slowly as he slept. Roadhog wouldn’t really leave him to burn, right? Was just a dream, right? You know how to convince him to keep you, at least for the moment. You know what you can do for him… whispered suggestion and restlessness suffused Junkrat’s body, a need like an itch just out of reach. Hunger, almost but not quite desire. Ugly edge of desperation. Felt like he was burning from the inside out. Slipped off the cot and crossed the room. Roadhog didn’t move, even as Junkrat sat on the edge of the bed.

Breathed in slowly, tickle rising in response. Not quite enough, though. Again. Slow, careful breath, teasing. Almost. Again. Breathe, slow, and then… yes… “Hih...it’sch! T’chh!” Pinched them off, keep it under control. Roadhog stirred, turned masked face toward him, lenses reflecting moonlight instead of flames.

“....”

“Sorry, got a tickle.” Tried for his usual cockiness, but not sure he pulled it off. Fortunately another sneeze interrupted him. “Ah-t’chh! T’chh! H’gnxt!” He sighed, sniffed, slid his hand under the sheet, teasing along the waistband of Roadhog’s boxers.

Suddenly Roadhog’s hand grabbed his wrist. “What are you doing, Rat?”

“Just… just thought you’d like…” Dammit, the sneezes were still coming. “Huh-Issh! Ah’Risshh!”

“Don’t.” Roadhog bit the word off.

“But…”

“No.  Go to bed, Rat.” Roadhog released his hand and rolled over, away from him.

Shit. Junkrat swallowed. Lips dry, mouth dry. Needed a drink. Made his slightly unsteady way to the kitchen. Ground felt not quite solid underfoot and his head ached. How’d he fuck this one up? Wanted tea, but was too much effort, settled for water instead. He finished a whole glass before his eyes were caught by a soft glow lighting the living room.

Someone had dragged in a pine tree and decorated it for Christmas. Strings of white fairy lights and glass baubles in rainbow hues. ‘Stead of going back to the bedroom to stare at the walls and try to figure how he’d pissed Roadie off, he curled up on the couch. The tree made the room feel warm, cozy. Tried to remember other Christmases. Had there ever been a tree? Presents? Not in the years by himself. Never with Roadie, neither - Chrissie always just another day.

“Ahrisssh! Issshuh!” The sneezes burst from him unexpectedly - just managed to catch ‘em in the crook of his arm, his cheeks heating at the noise. Fuck - gonna wake up the entire place.

As if the thought summoned him, Lucio appeared in the doorway. “Saúde, Junkrat.”

“Sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to wake ya.”

“Nah, you didn’t. Couldn’t sleep.” Lucio hesitated. “I was gonna make myself some cocoa. Want some?”

“Please.”

Must’ve dozed off, because felt like only a second passed before the couch dipped as Lucio and Hana sat on either side of him. Lucio handed him a mug. Even through the congestion he caught the sweet scent of chocolate. “Not gonna want to be so close,” he warned.

Hana shrugged off his concern. “No worries, mate,” she copied his accent to horrible effect.

“‘S my line,” he said, coughing on a laugh.

“No offense, but you sound horrible.” Least she was matter of fact about it. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Is Roadhog snoring? Hana could wake the dead when she gets going. And she talks in her sleep. You wouldn’t believe the stuff she says…”

“Hey!” She reached behind Junkrat to cuff Lucio on the back of the head. “You swore you wouldn’t tell.”

Lucio shrugged, grinning.

“Nah. I mean, yeah he is - like a freight train. But it don’t bother me none. I’m used to it.” The steam curled up from the mug, loosening congestion and making his nose tickle. He rubbed it against the back of his hand. Took a sip of the chocolate and coughed on it. “Hooly dooly, what’s in there, turpentine?”

“Found some Peppermint Schnapps. I figured it would help all of us get some sleep.” Lucio took a tentative drink and made a face. “Might be a little old.”

“So why are you awake,” Hana pressed. “Lucio’s worried about you. ”

“Hana!”

“Turn about’s fair play.” She laughed. “Not like it’s something to be embarrassed about, anyway.”

“For guys it is,” Lucio mumbled.

“Weird dreams,” Junkrat said, hoping it would be enough to explain without encouraging more questions. He took a long drink. Unfortunately the alcohol spiked straight to his nose and he knew he was going to sneeze again… not exactly reassuring. Should never got started in the first place. And he was going to spill his drink. Fuck. “Could you takethisplease,” had to rush it through, luckily Lucio seemed to know what was going on because he took the mug just as the first sneeze sent Junkrat lurching forward. “AhRissshah!  Issh! HaRiiissh-uh!”

“Done?” Hana patted his back gently.

Shook his head, face still buried in his elbow. “Huh-iisssh! Issshh! AhRiish!”

“Bless. Now?”

Shook his head again, words beyond his ability. Tried to pinch it back. “H’gnxt! … H’gnxt!” Just popped his ears and he finally gave up. “Hih-Riiisshhh!” Waited a minute to catch his breath and decide whether he’d sneezed his brains out or just felt like it. “Done,” he finally managed to mumble.

“Color me impressed,” Hana said and bonked him in the head with a tissue box.

He grabbed a handful without lifting his face from his elbow. Didn’t think it was gonna be a pretty sight. “Ugh, sorry. Plague rat is right.” He shivered.

“Dude, it’s not a big deal. Everyone gets sick sometimes.” Lucio gave him back his cocoa then tugged a throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around him.

“Yeah, like on our first date,” Hana said, leaning against Junkrat’s shoulder. Lucio leaned in on the other side and slowly his shaking stopped.

“Oh my God, don’t tell that story,” Lucio groaned.

“He didn’t want to cancel, even though he wasn’t feeling well…”

“Because I’d been trying to get you to agree to go out with me for weeks!”

“So we get to the bar, and Lena and Emily are there…”

“And Hana suggests a double date.”

“I didn’t suggest you agree to the drinking contest.”

“I had to impress you, didn’t I?”

“I tried to warn you...”

“But she didn’t tell me Lena can drink Rein under the table.”

Junkrat laughed. The warmth of the blanket and the comfort of Lucio and Hana on either side of him grounded him and the tension in his shoulders began to loosen.

“So three shots in, Lucio passes out - falls right off his barstool - and I end up taking care of him for the rest of the night.”

“And she is going to tell this story until the end of my days…” Lucio gusted a sigh.

“What about you and Roadhog? First date story?”

Junkrat took a drink, stalling to give his brain a minute to come up with how the hell to answer her question.

“Give him a break, Hana.” Then he glanced at Junkrat out of the corner of his eyes. “Look at him. You think they go on dates?”

“Ha! Ok, fair. How’d you meet, then?”

It was a much easier story to tell - the attempted attack by the Queen’s goons, his own quick thinking offer to Roadhog, who accepted for reasons of his own and the beatdown they provided the goons instead. Might have slid over the bit about the treasure the Queen wanted, and added a couple of extra goons, but didn’t need to exaggerate Roadhog’s prowess. He’d taken them down and barely even broken a sweat. “Was a beautiful thing,” he finished, smiling at the memory.

“I think we have slightly different ideas of beauty.” Hana said, making a face.

“No accounting for taste,” Junkrat shrugged and yawned. The alcohol tasted like ass, but also made him sleepy. “Didn’t know what I was getting into that day. Thought I was just saving my ass… but…” he yawned again.

“But?”

“But think I put myself in more danger than the Queen’s drongo’s would’ve been.”

Hana frowned. “What do you mean?”

Junkrat rubbed his eyes. He was tired down to his bones and it all combined to loosen his tongue. “You asked if we’re just… business partners. An’... to tell ya the truth, I dunno what the hell we are.” He shifted, trying to ease the ache in his leg. “Wasn’t supposed to be anything other than a job. 50/50 - I plan, he’s my bodyguard. Easy, right? But something got fucked up somewhere and I think I…” He rubbed his hands over his face. Couldn’t say it. Not even to them.  “Fucked it up.”

Hana put an arm around him. “He’s still here.”

“For the money.”

“Are you sure,” Lucio asked.

“Yes.”

[Agaba]

I love it ❤️

[sprinkles287]

I don’t know if I’m more interested in the plot or the sneezing! This is great - I don’t know the fandom at all but it’s really intriguing.

[March Hare]

I LOVE it when a story gets out of your control. I LOVE this.

Also, I think you're inspiring me...

[Frick]

@Agaba Thank you!

@sprinkles287 Thank you! It's always wonderful when someone not in a fandom still enjoys a story. I appreciate it!

@March Hare You are the best, thank you! (And I hope I am inspiring you!!) 

I really appreciate every comment/view, etc. Absolutely it makes my day, week, month... heck, in 2020 it makes my year.

[Frick]

(Part 4)

Something was buzzing right in his ear. Almost like a chainsaw but not quite. On the other side, hair tickled his cheek. What dragged him back to full awareness, though, was the flayed feeling of being watched. Junkrat shifted and opened his eyes. The room was empty, but a door clicked shut down the hall. Waking up sandwiched between two people was odd. More so that neither was Roadhog. Most odd, though, was how comfortable he felt. Despite the congestion and headache, his body was relaxed, warm. Sleep had been dreamless and deep. Untangled himself from the blanket, from Hana and Lucio’s arms, carefully so he didn’t wake them.

Least the floor felt solid under him again. Maybe getting better. Step-tapped down the hall, listening to see who might be awake in the not-yet dawn. Nothing from Mei and Satya’s room or Lena and Emily. Also silence from his own room, which could only mean Roadhog was awake. Otherwise the snoring’d be enough to deafen. He stood in front of the closed door for a long minute. Knock? Just go in? That idea felt weird. Wished it didn’t - didn’t used to. What had changed? Maybe should go back to the couch and pretend like everything was fine. Would be easiest - he considered it with longing. Now that he’d been up a minute realized was still a little dizzy. Unfortunately, though Hana and Lucio were cozy he didn’t want to give them whatever plague he had.

Raised a hand to knock. Hesitated. Maybe Roadie’d just got up for the bathroom. No reason to interrupt him, demanding an explanation for something he hadn’t done. Dropped his hand. Stepped back.

He turned and detoured to the kitchen - maybe another drink’d knock him out. Give Roadhog enough time to fall asleep too; then he could crash in the cot with no one the wiser. He’d just put the kettle on to boil when the house sat comm beeped.

Jumped to reach it before the sound woke someone. “Yeah?”

“Fawkes - it’s Morrison.” As if it’d be anyone else on the other end of the comm at the ass crack of dawn on Christmas.

“Hey old man.” Serve him right, callin’ him Fawkes. Ain’t no one called him that.

The disapproval practically radiated from the link through the silence, then “Where’s Lena?”

“Still sleepin’, her ‘n everyone else. Ain’t even daybreak here, mate.”

Another heavy silence. Wondered whether Morrison’d call him out for insubordination. Or at least being annoying. Grinned as Morrison contented himself with a deep sigh. “There’s been further intel. Null Sector was sent to retrieve a device that was supposed to be under guard in the settlement attacked yesterday morning. Our source says they weren’t successful. It’s unclear whether the device was left behind or taken when the settlement was vacated. We need to send in a recon team to ascertain whether the device is still in play.”

Junkrat considered asking whether he remembered it was a holiday, but figured he did. Maybe it was just another day for Morrison, too. “Suppose this needs to happen asap, yeah?”

“If we don’t get in there, they will. I hope I don’t need to explain how problematic that would be.”

“Nah. Got it.”

“I’m sending schematics. Have Lena look them over before she goes, then delete. Can’t have anyone else getting hold of them. And tell her to report immediately upon her return.”

“Always does, don’t she?” For all her tendency to lighthearted fun, Lena was conscientious and responsible and it grated to think Morrison didn’t recognize that.

Course Morrison didn’t bother to respond, just cut the connection.

“Dipstick,” Junkrat muttered. The question was, what to do now? Not a question, really. Wake Tracer, interrupt her holiday, and give her Morrison’s assignment. After all, who else could do it? The whispered tone was sly. Had a point though - why did Lena need to have her holiday morning interrupted for a simple recon mission? Seemed like something one person could do alone. Why drag anyone else out into the cold. Oh Jamison. You think you could be trusted with this? Laughter scraped his thoughts. He scowled. Course - why else would Morrison tell me. A small, considering hum. Perhaps… a chance to prove yourself somewhat useful. Yes; exactly. He’d take care of it - be back before anyone else got up. Prove it wasn’t just Roadhog they needed.

The kettle whistled shrill and he startled, yanked it off the burner. Fortunately still heard Hana snoring from the living room. Dumped boiling water over two teabags, Roadie’s opinion be damned. No time for ‘real’ tea. Needed to get moving before someone caught him. He checked the files Morrison had sent - straightforward enough. A small case, with something inside that looked very much like a bomb - one big enough to take out several city blocks. He memorized the look of the case, the details of the bomb - tried not to imagine what the explosion would look like… would feel like. Then deleted the files. Gonna do what he was supposed to this time. Gonna follow orders. Not gonna take the device for himself and disappear. Not this time.

Are you quite certain you are capable? The illness, the fever… you are likely not up to it. Perhaps you should wake Tracer. He clenched his jaw. ‘M fine. Can do this on me own; told the voice. Told himself. Not weak. Not pathetic. Almost like his own body rebelled his decision, a sudden urge to sneeze had him scrambling to keep from spilling his tea as he stifled the fit. Just a cold. She’ll be right.

In case, though… in case he wasn’t capable…and maybe to see… see whether it was the money, the treasure…  Junkrat found a piece of paper and scribbled a handful of words and a set of coordinates. Not the words he really needed to say, but the question he needed answered. In case, and to see. He slipped the paper under Roadhog’s door - usual snoring now - and headed out. Be back before anyone realized he was gone - but if not, the note would tell Roadhog what he’d need to know.

Night was cold - though supposed that went without sayin’. Always cold, here. Not sure he was gonna ever get warm. Be a bit of a hike, without the ute… but didn’t want to risk disturbing Lena to get the keys. Didn’t mind a walk now and then. The tea was still warm, the caffeine lending him a measure of energy. Somehow, his body felt a little floaty. Make the walk easier, maybe. The snow had stopped, sky gone clear and dotted with stars that shimmered like diamonds scattered on deep indigo velvet. The moon was high and full, reflecting light over the snow covered fire road.

Junkrat walked, following the tire tracks from earlier in the day, just barely visible. Good thing, too - not sure he’d remember the way otherwise. His breath puffed clouds. The depth of the quiet was unexpected - birds still sleeping, too cold for crickets. Snow creaked under his steps, ice-covered tree branches snapped. Then, somewhere in the mountains above the high, mournful cry of a coyote. Raised the hair at his nape, a chill of goose flesh over his arms. An answering yip, off to his right. Another farther ahead. Hunting. Wondered who was prey? Another howl, then a high scream, and more barking howls. The pack had caught something, likely a rabbit,  and the sounds made him shiver. Rubbed a hand over his forehead, kept walking as the sun rose over the mountains.

As he drew closer to the settlement even through the congestion, he caught the lingering scent of explosives, of charred metal and burned wood. Fortunately, still seemed just as deserted as it had before. Bots no more than twists of metal and scrap. Listened carefully for any signs of life, of movement but there was nothing. A breeze kicked up, rustling tree branches and sending skirls of snow swirling around his foot. He shivered suddenly, coughed. Right. Check the cabins fast, in and out and no meandering.

Former inhabitants must’ve cleared out in a hurry - one of the cabins had the remnants of an unfinished meal scattered over the table. A spilled mug, puddle of coffee frozen. Stove unlit, the place was no warmer than outside. Clothes, books, toiletries all left behind. First cabin clear - no case. Second and third cabins much the same. Was downright eerie.

Junkrat was entering the last cabin when he caught the unmistakable crunch of footsteps from somewhere behind the building. His heart tripped, double-timed. Fuck. No chance it was any of the Overwatch crew - they’d have taken the ute and hadn’t heard it. Not bots, either, steps too light and quick for a mech. Looked around the cabin - hide or fight? Hadn’t brought much in the way of weapons. Couple of grenades and that was it. Perhaps you didn’t think this one through, yes? What will you do now, with no bodyguard to protect you?

Junkrat pushed the thoughts away. Fuck that. He’d lived most of his life on his own. Didn’t need Roadie. Exactly. He’d figure this out. The cabin was all one room, not offering much in the way of hiding places. Under the bed would only be a trap. Maybe if he closed the door quick and quiet the lock would hold… Was just about to do so when a small black case caught his eye. Someone had shoved it under the bed, but not far enough. The case or the door?

Kicked the case farther into the darkness under the bed and lurched for the door as a shadow fell across the entrance. Click of bootheel on the threshold. A sense of foreboding washed over him like nausea. Junkrat squinted in the dim light of dawn and the figure lifted her head, revealing a shock of red hair and suddenly his entire body went numb.

“Well, well, well. Jamison Fawkes.” Her face was still in shadows but he knew that voice, the Irish lilt. Hearing it outside his head made the world tilt and he almost staggered. “There were rumors that Overwatch had taken in a Hog and its pet Rat.” She glanced around the room, as though Roadhog might be hiding somewhere. “You’ve come alone?” Her tone was one of delight.

“Ain’t alone. Me body guard’s just in the other cabin.” Lies came easily, and though his voice was hoarse, it was steady. He lifted his chin. “An’ I ain’t a kid no more, neither.”

“It has been some time. Indeed, you are no longer a child.” Felt her gaze taking in every inch of his body. A shiver he couldn’t suppress climbed up the back of his neck. She stepped toward him and he resisted the urge to move back. She reached out and placed her right hand on his chest. Her fingers were like white spider legs, and her nails were dagger sharp and still painted purple. His heart stuttered under her palm. “You feel hot - are you ill?”

“Just your hands are cold,” he tried, but even as he said it, he knew he was going to sneeze. Fucking always. He ducked away from her as his body convulsed.  “AhRissshah!  Issh! HaRiiissh-uh!”

As he tried to catch his breath, she backed away from him. Didn’t realize she was moving toward the bed until it was too late. She leaned down and with one swift motion pulled the case free. “Overwatch should have sent someone else. Not a boy...weak…  ill.” Her teeth flashed in a grin. “I would love to stay, to see how you have been after all this time, but I must deliver this. Perhaps I will return, and perhaps you will still be here.”

Knew he should run, but he had no energy left. Reached into his pocket for a grenade instead- maybe it’d take him out, but she wouldn’t have the bomb. Could see exactly how a real explosion felt. He yanked free the explosive, she raised her right hand and a stream of purple and gold energy flew from her palm. Everything went white, then black.

Edited July 9, 2020 by Frick

[Frick]

(Part 5 - and I might be heading to a conclusion in the next part. I'll just write a short little thing, I thought. 30-some pages later, oops. This chapter is v. light on sneezing, sorry.)

The angle of sun streaming in the window led Roadhog to believe it was later than he’d expected. He thought he’d be stuck with insomnia when he woke before dawn, but apparently he was wrong. Junkrat hadn’t disturbed him with his usual early-morning energetic ramblings, either. He glanced at the cot, but it was empty, the sheets as balled up as they’d been earlier.  Rat must’ve spent the night on the couch. It was good that he was spending time with people his own age, he told himself again. For what had to be the fifth time since he’d found Junkrat curled easily between Hana and Lucio, their arms wrapped around him, his head pillowed on Lucio’s shoulder. It was good that he was making friends, that he felt comfortable with them. So why did it feel… distinctly not good? He shook his head at himself. Junkrat needed a wider world - which was one of the reasons Roadhog had agreed to join Overwatch in the first place.

The scents of coffee and pancakes drifted through the air. Other than the faint sounds of cookware in the kitchen and an old Christmas carol on Lucio’s sound system, the cabin was quiet. Without Rat’s incessant chatter and pestering, Roadhog decided to take advantage of the calm. He picked up the novel he’d been working his way through, some Western by Larry McMurtry- probably left by McCree - and began to read.

He finished a chapter, began the next, and suddenly realized he’d been reading the same sentence over and over for the last several minutes. He was listening. The cabin was still peaceful. Yes, he caught the vague murmur of chatting, silverware on dishes, Christmas carols… but no Junkrat. No convo, no peg against the floor, no laughter, not even coughing. Nothing. He put down the book. Something wasn’t right. Junkrat was not quiet - always a running commentary to whoever he was with, to himself, mumbling and giggles, random humming, snatches of songs. Even when he was asleep he muttered and sometimes moaned…  he was absolutely never silent.

Roadhog dressed and tightened the buckles on his mask. It was possible Junkrat was still asleep. He was sick, after all. But wouldn’t he have come back to bed by now? As Roadhog crossed the room he noticed a folded piece of paper that had been shoved under the door. He bent, picked it up and unfolded it. Rat’s scrawl across the page.

“50/50 of everything. Treasure’s here.” Below the words, coordinates. Australia. Deep in the Outback. Roadhog sighed. Not good. Junkrat always divvied up the haul right after a heist - never made Roadhog wait or argue for his half. The only thing Junkrat ever held back was his treasure - which he’d found before they were a partnership. It might be argued that Junkrat had promised 50/50 of everything, not specifying new takes only, that Roadhog deserved at least that for keeping him alive - and Roadhog had, in fact, made this very argument to himself several times over the years - but the truth was he had no claim to it.

They’d never spoken about the treasure; hell, he didn’t even know what it was. Just something the Queen wanted badly enough that it was a draw for her enforcers and all sorts of thugs and scavengers looking to make a deal or quick money. The question was, why had Junkrat given him this information now, and in this way? Why not just tell him? Or wait until they were back in Australia. Something was going on and he was pretty damn sure he wasn’t going to like it, whatever it was.

He pocketed the note and headed into the living room. Hana was on the vid screen, playing some racing game against Lucio. Mei and Satya were reading. No Junkrat. He could hear Lena and Emily cleaning up in the kitchen and he went around the corner to see whether maybe the Rat was there, just oddly quiet.

“Good morning, Roadhog! Happy Christmas,” Lena said brightly. “There’s still some pancakes and eggs left, if you or Junkrat are hungry.”

Shit. “Thanks, maybe later.” He shifted a little uncomfortably. “You seen Junkrat this morning?”

Emily shook her head. “No, sorry.”

Lena glanced at him, frowning. “He’s not with you?”

“Not since…” flash of Junkrat on the edge of his bed, making a bid for attention. And himself, exhausted, annoyed… confused… brushing him off, “last night.”

“He hasn’t been around at all.” Lena said, still frowning. Instead of reassuring him that someone else cared, her concern heightened his own discomfort. He wasn’t just being paranoid. He’d rather be paranoid.

“Maybe Lucio or Hana knows where he went?” Emily suggested. Roadhog nodded.

He hesitated in the doorway of the living room, waiting for a break in the vid race. He wanted to ask and didn’t in almost equal measure. Because if he didn’t ask he could keep thinking that everything was just fine. That the note meant nothing. That Junkrat went for a walk. In the middle of winter. In the freezing cold. Which he hated. With a fever. While doing so wasn’t completely out of character - Rat had an infuriating habit of following whatever idea happened through his brain at the moment, no matter how idiotic - it didn’t seem particularly likely.

“Happy Christmas, man,” Lucio said, putting down his controller as Hana beat him yet again.

“Thanks. You too.” Roadhog cleared his throat. “Either of you seen Junkrat?” He hoped the mask kept his voice from sounding as anxious as he thought it did.

“Not since the middle of the night,” Lucio said. “Hana and I couldn’t sleep and when we came out for some hot chocolate he was hanging out on the couch. I might have spiked the chocolate a bit more than I meant, and we all sorta passed out.”

“He wasn’t there when we woke up,” Hana added. “I assumed he’d just gone to bed where he could actually stretch out. He was looking pretty rough last night, to be honest.”

Roadhog sighed, “Fuck.”

Hana put down her controller too, attention turned completely from the game. “He’s not with you? That’s totally weird.”

Roadhog shook his head. “Maybe he went for a walk,” he said, trying the words out loud. They sounded even less plausible than they had when he just thought them.

“He didn’t really seem up for that,” Lucio said. “Want me to come help you find him?” His eyes were warm and kind and Roadhog suddenly understood why Junkrat felt comfortable with him.

“Please,” he said and before anyone could comment on the way his voice went hoarse, he headed to the mud room to put on his boots.

It ended up that Lucio, Hana, Lena and Emily all headed out with Roadhog to see if they could find Junkrat. He couldn’t have gone far, Roadhog told himself. He hadn’t taken the ute. Unfortunately the wind had picked up again and if Rat’d left prints in the snow, they’d been erased.

The others fanned out, exploring the woods and the path to the frozen lake, but Roadhog stayed closer to the cabin. First he checked the ute, both the seats and the rear cargo space. Then he headed into the Orca. More hidey holes there. When he got sick, Junkrat was more like his namesake even than usual. With his tendency to expansiveness, Roadhog had assumed he’d be one of those annoying sick people who whinged and complained about every little sniffle. It took a while to realize how wrong he’d been.

The first time Rat got sick Roadhog hadn’t even known. Junkrat’d disappeared for a few days without warning and when he returned he was even skinnier and pale under the dust and gunpowder. He’d made no mention of it, until Roadhog cussed him out about the impossibility of protecting someone who was nowhere to be found. Looking somewhat sheepish, Junkrat admitted he’d been in no need of protection, except from his own body. The next time he warned Roadhog that he was ill before - again - disappearing. A couple of days later Roadhog had found him sweating out a fever in a nest of blankets in his work room. He was like a feral creature, hiding until his weakness passed.

It was a marked contrast to when Roadhog himself fell ill. It happened relatively rarely, but his lungs were more susceptible to infection after the destruction of the Omnium and the ensuing radiation exposure. When he started feeling sick, he hoped he’d be able to shake the chest cold without it turning into anything worse. He hadn’t been so lucky.

The first time Junkrat heard him sneeze he’d burst into a fit of laughter. “That’s yer sneeze, mate? Big bastard like you sneezin’ like a fucking kitten.” Junkrat’d nearly fallen off the chair laughing. Roadhog could feel himself go red, and thanked Whoever for his mask because if Junkrat had seen him blush he’d never hear the end of it.

“Not everyone sneezes like a bomb blast,” he grumbled.

Junkrat kept laughing. “What can I say, I’m explosive.”  But Junkrat had also brought him Fairy Bread and tea, then made himself scarce - leaving Roadhog in peace and quiet for once.

The infection ended up settling deep in his lungs. His fever had spiked and he’d coughed hard enough to lose his breath, even with the hogdrogen. Junkrat hovered in his peripheral, wide-eyed and overflowing with nervous chatter. Plied him with juice and tea and soup and when the fever wouldn’t budge and neither would the coughing, Junkrat robbed a chemist.

Roadhog had swum up through a fever dream that felt like quicksand to find Junkrat dumping a bag of loot over the bed. Not cash, but paracetamol, azithromycin, Bisolvon, tissues, Codral day and night time, Betadine lozenges, Lemsip, more juice, and electrolyte solution.

“It’s like a chemist exploded in here,” Roadhog had said.

Junkrat shrugged, faking innocent then laughed. “Kinda,” he admitted and, imitating the panicked look of the druggist at his explosive entrance, made Roadhog laugh through his coughing. “Didn’t know what you like, so I got some of everything. Woulda got you codeine, ‘cause I’m pretty sure this stuff won’t do shit, but the druggist said it ain’t good for people with pneumonia.”

“Thanks, Rat.” He’d blamed the fever for his bemusement, but even when he was better he was still taken aback at Junkrat’s thoughtfulness. And Junkrat never let him return the favor.

“Dammit, where the fuck did you go?” He slammed his first into the side of the Orca, only succeeding in bruising his knuckles. After an hour of fruitless search he had to give up. There was no telling where Junkrat had gone.

The mood in the cabin was subdued. Hana tried to get him to join the quest game she and Luico were playing but he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus. Lena and Emily invited him to join them in watching Nightmare Before Christmas, which Mei claimed wasn’t a Christmas movie at all. Satya offered to teach him the new knitting stitch she’d perfected, but he couldn’t even concentrate on that.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Mei said.

Roadhog just nodded and went back to pacing between the front window and the back door. Just as he was passing the kitchen for the twenty or thirtieth time, the sat comm beeped.

“What,” he said.

“Rutledge, Morrison. Is Lena back? She hasn’t reported in.”

“Back? She hasn’t gone anywhere.”

Morrison heaved a sigh. “I told Fawkes to inform her immediately. Let me talk to him.”

Roadhog’s stomach sank. “He’s not here.”

“Shit, Fawkes. Fucking loose cannon.”

Roadhog only realized how hard he was gripping the comm when the plastic cracked. “Watch it,” he found himself growling before he considered who he was talking to. “Where is he?”

“He’s not supposed to be anywhere. I told him to send Lena.”

“Morrison.”

“The settlement. We needed a device extracted before Null Sector got hold of it.”

“Fuck.” He cut the sat comm link, grabbed his gun, and headed for the ute. Lena and Hana must have overheard because they raced after him. Not even a moment later Lucio swung up in the seat beside him and Lena pulled out of the driveway with a squeal of tires and spray of gravel.

Of all the stupid, imbecilic, idiotic things for Junkrat to do. He’d like to be shocked, or even surprised but he wasn’t. He could follow Rat’s thinking perfectly - why interrupt anyone else’s sleep when he could take care of it himself? Always trying to prove himself, when he never needed to. Who gave a shit what Overwatch thought of him, of either of them?

He took a deep breath. It would be fine. They’d find Junkrat in the settlement, with the device. He’d just gotten sidetracked scavenging. Hell, maybe he found something worthwhile. Then he’d be proud. Be absolutely intolerable with the gloating. Probably call Morrison himself to give an I-told-you-so. And wouldn’t he laugh like mad to know Roadhog was … concerned. Roadie could hear him now, “Aww, ya worried about me did ya? You know I always land on me feet.” He’d giggle, wait for Roadhog’s exasperated sigh. “Well, foot.”  And he pretty much did… except when he didn’t. Which is where Roadhog came in. Or should have. If he hadn’t been sleeping like a fucking rock.

Roadhog stared out the window, squinting into the sun reflecting off the snow. If Rat made it out of the settlement he wouldn’t be right on the trail. He was too wary for that. And Roadhog didn’t want to miss any sign of him, but it was hard to make anything out in the shadows between the trees.

Lena drove right up to the settlement this time - no need for surprise when Junkrat was already there. She cut the engine and the silence pressed close. No sounds of struggle, of bots or gunfire, but also no sound of a rummaging Rat. Somewhere in the distance a bird sang. Another answered. Nothing else. Not even a snapping twig. Felt deserted.

The group paired off to search the cabins, Hana and Lucio taking the three on the left, himself and Lena the three to the right. Nothing of note in the first cabin. He yanked open the door to the second and for a minute he thought he might throw up. The remains of what had been a table and chairs were scattered across the room. Bits of bright yellow grenade casing littered the floor. A scorch mark marred one wall. He swallowed. Hard. Junkrat - what happened? Where was he?

A hand touched his arm and he whirled, gun up, only to find Lena, hands held out empty.

“Sorry, sorry! I know better… just... “ she gestured to the room, the destruction. “He’s not here, though. No blood.”

No body, she meant. Neither whoever he’d aimed for, nor his. At least not his. If he wasn’t here, and he had been, there’d be a trail. Roadhog would find it, and would find him. And if someone had hurt him… well, they wouldn’t have long to regret it.

“Roadhog,” Lucio’s voice, urgent but not afraid, shouted from somewhere outside.

“Go,” Lena told him. “I’ll finish here.”

He ran. Followed the soft pulsing and flash of Lucio’s sonic amplifier, around the back of the cabins, up a trail toward the foothills and his breath rushed out.

Junkrat leaned against one of the pines, clearly trying to look nonchalant, but Roadhog could read the pain in every line of his body, from the clench of his jaw to the tension in his shoulders and the awkward way his hip was canted. He shook his head at something Lucio just said to him, that Roadhog couldn’t hear.

“Nah, mate. ‘M aces. Need to get the… thing. Morrison sent me for. Following this sheila. Gotta hurry.” He rubbed his forehead, swayed for a second, caught himself with one hand on the tree. His face went even paler.

“Come on, Junkrat, Lena and Hana will take care of it. Let me take you back to the cabin.” Lucio reached for him, but he stumbled back.

“No. My fuckin’ mess to clean up.”

“That’s not the way this works. Haven’t you learned yet? You’re not alone; we’re a team.” Even though Roadhog caught a hint of frustration in his voice, Lucio’s tone was warm.

“Might be the way of it for you. Not me. An’ ain’t no one ordered me to do anything, so not breaking any laws or rules or whatever.”

“It’s not about rules, Junkrat. It’s about taking care of people who are important to us.”

A tremor ran through Junkrat’s body; his eyes darted to the side like he was looking for an escape route. His gaze fell on Roadhog and his back straightened, his resolve clearly hardening.

“No. Gonna fix this.” He pushed himself away from the tree and headed farther up into the foothills, almost staggering.

Lucio watched him for a minute, then turned to Roadhog. “He’s not okay.”

“Usually isn’t.” A laugh worked free, because even though it was true, and wasn’t funny, at least Junkrat was alive, and moving and everything else could be fixed. “I’ll take care of it. Him.”

“Are you sure? If you tie him up I’ll help you drag him back.”

“I won’t say I’ve never considered it, but in this case I don’t think it will be necessary.”

Lucio shrugged. “Good luck.”

[SterlingSilver]

I have never played Overwatch and have only the barest inkling as to who these characters are, but your writing is so vivid I have been following and enjoying this fic no matter how clueless I am hahaha  Thanks so much for continuing this story and sharing it with us!! I'm excited to see how it progresses now that they've found Junkrat ❤️ I love the dynamic of his relationship with the others.

[Frick]

@BlackScatter. Thank you so much for your comment! Knowing that people who aren't into the fandom are reading and enjoying makes me so very happy! (Tbh comments give me life.)

[Frick]

Lucio squeezed Roadhog’s arm as he passed on the way to the settlement. Roadhog wanted to say something, to express his gratitude for Lucio’s help, for his kindness to Junkrat. But words weren’t his strong suit - though they had been once upon a time, and he’d certainly improved during his years with Junkrat (when he could get a word in edgewise). But at the moment it all felt inadequate, so he just put his own hand over Lucio’s for a second. “Thanks,” he managed, and though his voice was rough, Lucio smiled at him, still with that endless kindness. As Roadhog followed Junkrat’s plodding figure through the snowy hills, the warmth of Lucio’s hand on his arm lingered.

It didn’t take him long to catch up and for a while they walked together in silence, punctuated only by an occasional sniff from Junkrat. He wasn’t sure how to start a conversation, he wasn’t sure what tack to take  - but if there was one thing Junkrat couldn’t handle, it was extended silence. So he bit his tongue and walked.

As usual, it worked.

“Come to tell me yer heading back to Straya?” His voice was hoarse, blurred with congestion.

Roadhog held his silence.

“I mean, ya got my note, ain’t ya?”

Roadhog nodded, though he wasn’t sure Junkrat noticed, because he kept his eyes down. It was unclear whether this was to follow a trail only he could see, to keep from tripping, or to avoid Roadhog’s gaze - though likely it was all three in equal measure.

“I been thinkin’,” Junkrat said finally, then paused. “I know, dangerous prospect.” He coughed a laugh. “I think it’s time to go our own ways.” He coughed again, this time without laughing. “I mean, we can’t go our own ways right now, since we’re stuck with these do-gooders. But ya ain’t gotta babysit me no more.”

Roadhog tilted his head, tried to catch Junkrat’s eyes, failed. He stayed silent because whatever he’d expected Rat to come out with, that wasn’t it.

“Not sayin’ ya ain’t done a fine job. Kept me alive long enough to make some decent dosh. Kept me outta the Queen’s clutches. Got outta Straya. Guess that’s the point, ain’t it. The Queen’s reach’s not long enough to touch me here. An’ even if it was, she ain’t gonna mess with Overwatch. Not gonna take ‘em on. So what I’m sayin’ is… I don’t need you. And with your half of the treasure, you don’t need me, neither.”

To say that Junkrat’s suggestion took him aback was an understatement. He’d thought Rat enjoyed their… whatever it was. Partnership? Friendship? Companionship?

Better that he was wrong, though. He should be jumping at this chance to be alone again, finally. Hell, he’d found Junkrat annoying as shit plenty of times. Most of the time, in the beginning. But… somewhere along the way the sharpness of that anger, the thorn-poke of having someone else intrude on his solitude day after day had smoothed and blunted into something else.

Junkrat gasped sharply and Roadhog turned, heart pounding, to see what happened.

But Junkrat only lurched forward with a particularly violent sneeze. “Haah R’aaasshhh-uh!!”

“Bless…”

“Hiih-Iiishh!”  Another wrenching sneeze interrupted and Junkrat waved off the blessing, clearly gearing up for a third. “At’chhh-uh! …. Bloody hell,” Junkrat grumbled, sniffling and wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.”

“For fuck’s sake, blow your nose.” Roadhog shoved a handful of tissues at him, irrationally irritated.

He did, scowling. “What’s yer problem? Thought you’d be happy to be rid of me.”

“Where’d you get a bloody idiotic idea like that?”

Junkrat shrugged. “Maybe from you always callin’ me an idiot?”

“Only when you’re acting like one.”

“Piss off,” Junkrat said, but without any real heat behind the words. He blew his nose again. “I just… maybe you don’t understand ‘bout the treasure. Guess we ain’t never talked about it, so how would you? It’s… it’s worth … a lot. Don’t rightly know how much ‘cause I never tried to sell it. Truth is, liked keepin’ it just cause the Queen wanted it so bad.” He laughed. “You take it to her an’... an’ I bet she’d let you have yer old job back.”

“Don’t think there’s money enough in the world for that.” Not that he’d want it, even if there were. That life was over and done, regardless of Junkrat.

“Ain’t money, mate.”

Well now that was a surprise. Though, why should it be? They’d amassed plenty of money from the jobs they’d pulled. Jewels, too. Some priceless art. Stood to reason this would be something else. Plus, rumor had it Junkrat’d scavenged it from the ruins of the Omnium. Wouldn’t have been money there. Might have been some valuable scrap, but the Queen wouldn’t care about that. “So what is it?”

“Hard drive. From the mainframe.”

Roadhog’s mouth went dry and for a minute the air in his lungs seemed to vanish. This… this was bigger than Junkrat knew. The Queen wasn’t the only one who’d want the information on that drive. Far from it. The information one could get on the Omnics from that drive he could only guess. But the information from the security cams on the night of the… incident? That he could imagine with crystal clarity. He and the others had assumed everything had been destroyed in the explosion that night, mainframe included. No one had been insane enough to delve into the radioactive rubble to check. No wonder the Queen wanted Junkrat so badly - either get the drive or kill him before he did anything with it, she’d not have a real preference.

“Don’t know for sure what’s on it. Ain't had access to a computer capable of taking it. Thinking Overwatch might, though.”

Junkrat went quiet and Roadhog let him. Overwatch likely did. If he tried it and succeeded... if Junkrat found out about that night, about what ALF had done - about what Roadhog had done… Fuck. That would change everything, and rightly so. For the first time since they’d joined Overwatch, or longer, since they left the country for jobs they could pull further afield, Roadhog felt a sudden urge to go back. While Rat was safe with Hana and Lucio and the rest of them, he could find the drive and see what was on it. He could destroy it, permanently this time. Or maybe he could sell it to the Queen - to keep her secret. Not for his job, but for Junkrat’s (and his own) safety - in case she decided they were worth the risk of confronting Overwatch, or if they ever wanted to go back. Go home.

His stomach turned. It was clear - he was going to have to go. Without Junkrat if at all possible. But how? Overwatch was not about to let him take off for Australia on his own, too risky. The longer he left the drive, the greater chance it would be found. How dependable could Junkrat’s hiding place be? Maybe he could tell Morrison what Junkrat’s treasure was? Morrison’d be happy for any intel on the Omnics - something that could give Overwatch an edge. Even if he couldn’t convince Morrrison to send him alone, maybe he could suggest Hana and Lucio. If he had to bring Junkrat, they could keep him busy while Roadhog searched the drive and deleted any incriminating evidence.

He was so focused on his thoughts that he barely registered how uncharacteristically silent Junkrat was. Until he suddenly snapped forward with a sneeze loud enough, even muffled by a handful of tissues, to actually make Roadhog jump.

“Hut’Aaatchhah!” He gasped a breath then, “Issshah!” and one more, “Hupt-choo!” hard enough that it actually knocked him off balance. He grabbed at Roadhog’s arm to stay upright.

Roadhog put a steadying hand on his back. “Jesus, Rat. All right?”

To his surprise, and consternation, Junkrat shook his head. “No. I ain’t… ain’t feelin’ good.”

Roadhog only just registered how white Junkrat had gone before he crumpled. Roadhog dropped his gun and barely managed to catch him before he hit the ground. This was not fucking good. He lowered himself to sit and cradled Junkrat’s head in his lap.

“Junkrat,” he called quietly. “Come on, Rat, wake up.” He cupped Junkrat’s cheek, gently. The heat from his skin was shocking - his fever had clearly worsened. Roadhog sighed, smoothed the hair back from Rat’s forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said, just above a whisper. For all of it, he meant. For Junkrat being sick and the way he was and for never having a chance to become whoever he could have been had he not grown up alone in an irradiated shitheap.

Junkrat’s eyes moved behind closed lids, like he dreamed. He didn’t respond, but his body shivered with chills.

Fuck it all, sitting around whinging about the past not going to do any good. “All right, Rat - need to get you warm. Let’s go.” Put Junkrat’s arm around his neck, slid his own arm under Junkrat’s legs and lifted. He was surprisingly light.

Junkrat’s head lolled against his chest. He’ll be okay, Roadhog told himself. Just pushed too hard with a fever. Get him back to the cabin, put him to bed and he’d be just fine. Give him some meds. Maybe Lucio could help, too. Didn’t need to worry; wouldn’t do any good. Just needed to keep moving forward.

The way back down the hill was a bit more treacherous than up, especially as carrying Junkrat threw off his center of balance just enough to be awkward. Even so, Roadhog relished the need to focus on his movements, because then he couldn’t focus on the fact that Junkrat still wasn’t awake and the heat of his body was making Roadhog sweat even with the chill of the wind whipping down the mountain.

He’d just caught sight of the roofs of the settlement a short way below when Junkrat shifted uncomfortably and groaned.

“Hey,” Roadhog said. “I got you.”

“Ugh,” Junkrat pushed against Roadhog’s chest. “Put me down, Roadie. Ain’t a kid.”

“You fainted. I’m carrying you until Lucio takes a look at you.”

“Fuck that; ain’t fainted. Just…” he paused like he was looking for an alternate explanation. “Just needed a hard reboot. Turn me off, then back on again. ‘M fine.” He struggled against Roadhog’s hold until Roadhog had to put him down before dropping him.

“You’re impossible.”

“So everyone keeps tellin’ me.” Junkrat scowled. He was slightly unsteady as he walked, but Roadhog knew better than to try to help him when he was in one of his moods. Instead, he made sure he walked close enough to catch Junkrat if he fell again, but far enough that he could deny hovering.

They held a strained silence until they reached the settlement. Roadhog knew that anything he might offer would just piss Junkrat off more. The others were waiting in the ute - and the gust of warm air that puffed from the door as Junkrat yanked it open was a relief.

“‘M sorry, Tracer. Couldn’t catch her,” Junkrat said, immediately. “Know I shoulda waited for ya in the first place. Thought I could take care of it without having to interrupt yer holiday.”

Lena sighed, looking at them through the rearview mirror as she drove back to the cabin. “I appreciate the apology, Junkrat. And I appreciate the sentiment, I really do. But you also have got to understand - Overwatch works the way it does for a reason. It might feel like a pain in the ass… ok, it definitely feels like a pain sometimes,” she rolled her eyes, “especially when Morrison’s going on and bloody on… But honestly, we work better as a team. And when you take off on your own - without letting anyone know where you went, we can’t be a team.”

“Got it,” Junkrat said, muffling coughs into his fist.

Hana twisted around in her seat and frowned. “That sounds not great.”

Junkrat shrugged. “Feels not great.”

This time when Lucio reached over to feel his forehead, Junkrat didn’t move away. In fact, Roadhog was almost sure he leaned into the touch. “Looks like you’re going to be spending the rest of the holiday in bed. You’re hotter than hell.”

Junkrat cocked a brow. “Hana, gonna stand for your man propositioning me like that?”

“There’s plenty of room in the bed,” she replied archly.

Roadhog listened to them laugh, even as Junkrat coughed again, and found himself beginning to relax. Junkrat was safe, was warm, and Lucio would be able to tell if there were anything seriously wrong with him. They’d put him to bed, and he’d sleep off the sickness and maybe the mood, and while he did, Roadhog could figure out what to do about the treasure. And what to do about their partnership.

[Tassielli]

❤️❤️❤️

[SterlingSilver]

UGHHHHH, you weave plot and fluff and fetish into such a wonderful web of fanfic haha ❤️ I love your writing and get so excited when I see an update from you. Junkrat... he seems like such a mess of a character who needs so many hugs LOL. Thanks so much for continuing to post on this!!! I'm really looking forward to the next part, now that Junkrat's finally back safe ❤️ 

[Frick]

@Tassielli and @BlackScatter - thank you again. Always and forever, thank you!! 

[Frick]

(Penultimate chapter - maybe it'll be finished before Christmas??)

 

As Junkrat followed Roadhog into the cabin, he hunched into his jacket. Wished he could just disappear, but had to face the consequences of his cock up. Always rushing in… Shut it, told the voice. Her voice. Wished he knew how it worked, so he could turn it off. Head throbbed like Rein’d been at it with his hammer. Pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets. Mech hand’s chill felt good, but the pressure did fuck all to relieve the headache. Worse, though, was the disorientation of seeing her alive and in the flesh all these years later, when he’d almost convinced himself she’d been a figment of his imagination, a piece of fever dream from the infection after losing his limbs.

“Fawkes.” Morrison’s voice burst through the sat comm, sharp and grating - clearly ready to give him a gobful.

Junkrat startled. “Yeah.” Everyone else’d fucked off. Even Roadie’d left him to the dressing down. Some bodyguard he was.

“How can I impress upon you the seriousness of the situation? You ignored my orders…”

“Pig’s arse!” Feeling like shit or not, wasn’t about to take it without an argument. “Ya just asked where Lena was, an’ assumed I’d send her. Said the device needed retrieval, didn’t specify by who.”

A long pause. Not even a sigh. Then, “Technically you are correct. However…” Morrison’s voice buzzed in his ears like a mozzie. Everything feeling fuzzy again and his chest ached where she’d hit him with whatever her light shit was. And his fuckin’ nose was itching. Absolutely not gonna start sneezing in the middle of Morrison’s big speech. He scrubbed at his nose with his wrist and held his breath.

Lena passed the doorway and mimicked Morrison’s ‘blah blah blah’ face. To Junkrat’s disappointment she didn’t interrupt, just kept walking. Had to swallow inopportune giggles else it’d just give him more shit to bitch about. Sheila was right  - dipstick always ran on at the mouth. And if he didn’t shut up soon, Junkrat was pretty sure he was going to fall asleep leaning against the wall. Instead, he interrupted.

“Look, I know I fucked it up. Lena made it abundantly clear. How ‘bout we skip the yellin’ and go right to the punishment?”

“I am not your father, Fawkes.”

“Fuckin’ right ya ain’t.”

“But I am the commander. You’ve been with us long enough to know how we work. Yet you continue to operate as you’d been, as though Rutledge is the only one you can trust.”

“Goes without sayin’, don’t it?” Junkrat shrugged. “Least I know long as Roadie gets his dosh he’s gonna be there when I need him. Ain’t gonna go jack on me. Can’t exactly trust a bloke gives you a choice between workin’ for a clandestine organization and the lock up.”

Morrison sighed, rubbed a hand over his scarred face, then surprised Junkrat with a small chuckle. “You’ve got a point. But the choice is still yours, Fawkes. If you are dissatisfied with your responsibilities --  if you feel you are overly burdened by the opportunity to turn the tide toward good -- Lena will deliver you to the authorities in London.”

“Call that a choice,” he grumbled, but the possibility caught his attention. Might be able to convince her to drop him off far enough from a cop shop to have a chance of escape. Could claim he jumped her. Hell, could actually jump her - and how disturbing was it that wasn’t his first thought? You know what happens when you let your guard down, Jamison. When you start to trust. Whatever they might tell you… you know the truth.

He did know the truth. All too well. “Gotta talk about it with Roadie.”

“This offer isn't for him. Just you.”

Junkrat frowned. “Ya gonna keep my... bodyguard?” Swallowed back the other thought, other wish. Why wouldn’t they? Here’s the opportunity they’ve been waiting for - prune your dead weight, as they’ve wanted from the beginning. And Rutledge can return to his beloved quiet.

“We need people who are committed to the cause. For all of Rutledge’s… lack of perspicacity when it comes to your jobs, he’s demonstrated more than enough dedication in his life before you.”

Well well. I wonder what, exactly, Jack knows about him that you, for all your years together, do not. Junkrat ground his teeth. He don’t know nothing ‘bout Roadhog. Nothing.

Unless he did. The idea sank to the pit of his stomach where it sat like lead. Didn’t care that Roadie had a life before him - because of course he did - but the idea that he might have talked about it with Morrison, of all people, and that they might have some common ground, besides being old grey-haired dills. Pissed him off. Of course they have things in common, you utter child. You are not exactly the pinnacle of intelligent conversation. Rutledge is far more than he’s ever let on to you.

Let that pass. Who gave two shits about ‘intelligent’? Thing he hated was Roadhog’d shared something about his past, about who he was. About things that mattered. And he hadn’t shared them with Junkrat.

Junkrat’d never pressed him about the time before they met. He’d heard rumors, of course, everyone in Junkertown’d heard about Roadhog, Queen’s biggest, cruelest, most blood-thirsty enforcer… But in their years together Junkrat had begun to realize that some of the rumors were just that and nothing more.  Not to say Roadhog wasn’t any of those things - he was all of them. When he needed to be. Junkrat knew Roadhog, knew Roadie… but Rutledge… Mako… he didn’t know. And Morrison… fuckin’ Morrison… did.

“...Fawkes?”

Junkrat blinked. Shit. He’d apparently kept talking and seemed to be waiting for an answer. But couldn’t for the life of him figure what. Took a breath to answer anyway, and suddenly the sneezes he’d been fighting off burst out. “H’gnxt! … H’gnxt!” Just managed to pinch them back, maybe the comm’d miss the sound? And maybe Morrison’d dozed off too, not to see.

“Ah. Lena mentioned you were ill.”

Of fucking course. Junkrat scowled, muscles tightening along his back. Wanted to argue it, but suddenly felt like more trouble than was worth. Especially since Lena’d already said. So he sighed, and muffled the following coughs into his sleeve. “Yeah.”

“We can revisit this when you recover.” Morrison’s voice changed. While it wasn’t warm, exactly, it had lost the edge and bordered on kind. “Do you need Angela to check in?” His eyes narrowed, like he’d be able to read the truth of what Rat said through the screen.

“Nah, I’ll be right. Just gotta sleep.” No call to bring out the big guns, so to speak. Like her name implied, Mercy was the epitome of compassion, but she was still a doctor. Still a scientist, at bottom. Last thing he needed was poking and prodding.

“Very well.” A pause, then, “Let me know if you decide to take the offer.”

The comm connection dropped and Junkrat sagged back against the wall. Fuck. Was all fucked up. Didn’t even need her voice tellin’ him it was his fault. Course it was. Needed to fix it, but how? Had no idea where she’d scarpered off to with the bomb.

What about Morrison’s offer? He’d sounded serious, like it was honest. Maybe that was the solution - let Roadie stay here, help the do-gooders. Forget this… whatever it was between them. And he could… what? Serve his time? Go back to his old life? Without Roadie… what was his old life? He rubbed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. Couldn’t think through the bloody fog in his brain. Sleep would help, but damn - getting to the bedroom felt like a lot of fucking work at the moment. He closed his eyes. Maybe a short nap right here.

“Didn’t think Morrison would actually kill you,” Lucio said, startling him back to himself. “And through the sat comm no less.”

Junkrat snorted. “Still alive, but was a close thing.” He sighed, stretched in an attempt to work the aches out of his body. “Don’t mean to be an arse but I gotta lie down. Bloody fuckin’ knackered.”

“It’s all good. You got meds? There’s stuff in my kit if you don’t.” Lucio hesitated, like he wasn’t sure of how Junkrat would take his words. “And Hana made me promise to tell you that the bed offer was honest.”

Junkrat raised a brow and was rewarded as Lucio’s cheeks darkened in a blush.

“Just for a nap. We’re gonna be busy.”

The other brow joined the first and Lucio smacked his arm.

“Playing video games, asshole.” They laughed together until Junkrat shuddered into a sneeze.

“Huh-r’isssh! Isshew! Fuck.” He sniffed. “I'm disgusting. Not gonna get plague germs in yer bed. Comfortable where I am.”

“Saúde.” Lucio put an arm around him. “You’re not disgusting.”

Junkrat looked at him over the tissues he was using to blow his nose. Then wrenched forward with yet another sneeze.

Lucio laughed. “Okay -- you are disgusting but it’s fine. It’s just the way it is sometimes.”

“Glad to provide amusement.” But even though he pouted, the warmth and weight of Lucio’s arm around him settled his churning thoughts and without really meaning to, he found himself leaning into Lucio. He sighed. “Any chance yer sonic amplifier could get rid of this fuckin’ disease?”

Lucio shook his head. “Doesn’t work that way, unfortunately.  It’s only a stopgap measure - keep someone going until their own body can do the work. Sorry, man.”

“Nah, no worries. Sorta figured.”

“Sucks that you’re sick on Christmas.”

Junkrat bit back a groan. Shit - forgot. Christmas. The surprise. Wished he’d chosen an inside sort of thing, but sleep’d take the edge off, least enough to get through the rest of the evening. “It’s a hell of a Christmas gift.”  He squinted at the clock. “Would ya mind waking me in a couple of hours?”

“Sure…?”

“Don’t want to end up sleeping straight through - got the fireworks to set off.”

“You sure you still want to do that? It’s gonna be freezing.”

“Not exactly a Christmas prezzy if it’s not on Christmas, is it.” Didn’t want to admit Lucio’s point. He shivered just thinking of going back outside. But the explosions would be worth it. And these were gonna be bloody fantastic. Worked on ‘em way too hard for way too long to be put off by the fuckin’ wog.

“If you’re sure…”

“Thanks, mate.” Pushed himself away from the wall, away from the disquieting comfort of Lucio’s arm and made his unsteady way back to the bedroom.

Where he was disgruntled to find Roadhog sitting on the cot, clearly waiting for him.“Can’t believe you left me to Morrison’s tender mercy.” Even as he spoke, realized it came out more pissy than he intended, but better to be on offense than defense.

Roadhog, of course, just looked at him. Waited.

“Had to give me shit for fuckin up. An’ not trusting them.” Shook his head. “Can ya believe that? Blackmails us to join Overwatch and then is all up in arms because you’re the only one I trust. Like I’m going to depend on any of them when they’re only keeping us around for the demolition.”

Roadhog huffed what sounded suspiciously like disagreement but didn’t say anything.

“Practically killed me. Had to have Lucio rescue me.”

“Sounds like a job for a healer.” Roadhog’s shrug was visible in his voice.

Junkrat surprised himself with a laugh. “All right, ya got a point.” Still shivering, wrapped his arms around himself. “Would ya move; really need a lie down.”

“Take the bed.”

“But ya ain’t gonna fit on that tiny thing.” Gestured at the cot with his chin so he didn’t have to let got of himself.

“I’m not going to sleep in the middle of the day. And you’re sick. Need to rest. Take the bed.” Roadie’s voice was firm, not up for argument. Which was, truth be told, fine with Junkrat. Every aching muscle in his body longed for the comfort of a real mattress. No springs poking him in the side.

“Thanks.” Shrugged out of his jacket and flopped onto the mattress gracelessly. Everything fucking hurt. His muscles, his bones, his hair, his eyeballs. Even his missing limbs. However the hell that worked. Taking off the prosthetics felt like too much work, only to have to put them back on again in a couple of hours. He curled onto his side, wrapping the blankets tight around himself until he was cocooned, and waited for sleep.

And waited. He rolled over, hoping to ease the ache in his back, but laying on his stomach hurt his chest. Rolled back. Waited. He was still fucking cold. Shoulda left the jacket on. His head throbbed in time with the beating of his heart. And he kept feeling like he needed to sneeze, but the urge left off just before explosion.

The room was quiet, ‘cept for Roadhog’s breathing, his own sniffling, and every now and again a page turning. From elsewhere in the cabin a murmur of voices, one of Hana’s video games, music. Lena’s voice, pitched and exited, chased by the darker alto of Emily. Once Mei laughed. Life going on.

Without you. Yeah, and? They clearly don’t need you. They are happy without you. Don’t need them either. Perfectly fine here with Roadie. But even as he thought it, the cot squeaked, then Roadhog’s boots crossed the room and the door clicked open and shut.

You were saying? Laughter in the voice.

Fuck off. Didn’t mean anything, Roadie leaving him here. Or maybe it did. Maybe it meant he’d tied himself up in knots for nothing. Made things other than they were. Always doing that - chasing imaginings, random sparks. Could be one of those times. Snow falling behind his closed eyes, cold seeping through his jacket, his pants, and Roadhog’s non-answer to his question, ‘really don’t think now’s a good time’. Never a good time to tell someone they weren’t nothing more than a job. ‘Specially when they’d clearly confused the bit of comfort they’d taken in each other for something else. Something more.

Shut up, told himself - brain, voice, all. Tugged the blankets over his head. Maybe it would block everything out.

His fitful doze broke when a hand cupped his forehead. Didn’t need to open his eyes - knew the size of it, the callouses, the slight smell of leather and smoke. Roadie. Tried not to think about how good it felt, cool and dry against his own damp heat. “What,” he asked, still half asleep. Voice came out a croak. Cleared his throat, tried again. “What ya want?”

“Lucio said you wanted to be woken. Sent some… Tylenol? Looks like paracetamol or something.” Rattle of pills in a bottle, then clunk of a mug being put on the nightstand. “Mei brewed you a medicinal tea. Smells like moldy leaves, but she swears her Mum always cured her with it.” Another clink, spoon against bowl. “Lena made you soup - chicken noodle, apparently. Less likely to taste like bog water, but I haven’t tried it myself. Presumably she’s a better cook than you. Hana sent a couple fingers of whiskey to wash down the tea. And Satya knitted you this. Said you don’t need to kill anyone?”

Junkrat forced open his eyes to find Roadhog holding up a single mitten, knitted in garish orange and yellow, head tilted questioningly. He coughed a laugh, muffling it in his sleeve. “She knows how much I hate the cold.” Not gonna go into it, not even with Roadie. He sat up carefully, waiting to see which of his body parts protested the movement. All of them. Meds better take the edge off or this was gonna suck. He clenched his muscles against a shiver. The rectangle of window was black - sun had gone down while he slept.

Junkrat shook a handful of pills from the bottle but before he could swallow them all, Roadhog was taking some away. “Oi, what’s the deal?”

“Just two.”

“I wanna feel better faster.”

“Not how it works.”

Junkrat grumbled but gulped two down with the horrible tea Mei gave him. Nearly gagged on it. “Guess she ain’t forgiven me for the bodgy crack,” he said ruefully. Taste on his tongue like compost. The whiskey burned off the taste - and several layers of the skin of his throat as well. Coughed to clear the sting.

Luckily the soup Lena’d made was better than anything he ever managed. Couldn’t taste much, but the heat was soothing to his throat, the noodles soft but not slimy, and even though he couldn’t finish the whole bowl, it settled comfortably in his stomach and he felt warm for the first time in ages. Too bad he was gonna have to go out again. The meds had driven the headache back to a dull throb and when he pushed himself up to stand, he felt solid. He pulled his jacket back on, then tugged on the mitten from Satya - the wool surprisingly soft and not as itchy as usual.

“Oddest mitten I’ve ever seen,” Roadie pointed out as Junkrat wriggled his fingers. She’d ended the hand part at his knuckles.

“Nah, it’s genius. Can still work with the wires an’ all.”

[Tassielli]

Aaaaaaah, the whump. This poor man needs out of his head. 

[SterlingSilver]

Junkrat's determination to still do the fireworks is just so ughhhh ❤️ POOR MAN ❤️ I love the way your write him, and I can't wait to see how this ends 🤩

[Akahana]

Yaaay you updated!! I’m really enjoying this story ❤️

[Frick]

@Tassielli - I am a cruel, cruel person. What can I say?

@BlackScatter - He's very motivated. I hope you like the ending!

@Akahana - Thank you! Feedback gives me life!

[Frick]

Holy shitballs. Pretty close to exactly a year ago I got this idea - Junkrat and Roadhog have Christmas with some of the Overwatch crew. It was gonna be short and sweet and fluffy. I started writing in... February? 10 months and 21K words later I ended up with something almost entirely different. Oops? Thanks for joining me on the ride! 

 

Meds and tea and whiskey and food and mitten and probably a bit of fever still and the lingering feel of Roadie’s hand on his forehead all swirled together into an edgy excitement that made his blood fizz in his veins. Twitchy, itchy. Been looking forward to setting off the fireworks for months - been working them up that long and planning even longer. Had to get it all just right, then combine it with Lucio’s music, get the timing connected to the right shapes, the explosions to the right second… had to be focused, had to be precise and he loved the challenge. The sparks of thrill tingled along his spine and the fire they ignited burned away the lingering crud of sickness leaving him sharp and clear.

He enlisted Hana and Lucio to round up the others, betting they’d be able to convince anyone who was reluctant much better than he would. Even so, he was urging them down to the lake, torches bobbing through the dark, throwing odd shadows between the trees. Maybe talking a little faster than usual but how else was he going to impress upon them how exciting this was?

“Know it’s cold - hadn’t really thought about that when I was planning. I mean, hadn’t planned to be here at all, just thought we’d be at the Watchpoint. Course, this is better, discounting the cold. Which is hard to do, but Roadie’s getting the bonfire goin’ - he could light a fire in the middle of a monsoon so no worries on that count. An’ Hana brought some whiskey to help so she’ll be right. Ya need to stand here, no closer. Gonna be over the water.  Safe as houses, but can’t be too careful - least according to Morrison, ha! Now turn off the torches. Better the darker it is. Lucky ain’t moonrise yet…”

“What are we doing out here in the middle of the night when we could be curled up on the couch?” Mei asked no one in particular.

Junkrat ignored her. She’d see, they’d all see and he knew they’d love it just as much as he did if they gave it a chance. Lucio had been kind enough to not only have his sound system set up, but also brought out the box of fireworks so Junkrat didn’t have to lug it himself.

Didn’t take but a minute to set it all up, music on automatic once he started the program. All he had to do was hit the power and light the first fuse.

Music came up slow, soft, bit of piano, then edge of something electronic, rising bass and the first firework streaked up to the center of the sky and as the beat kicked in it exploded in a rain of silver and gold. At the crackling boom the others fell silent, faces tilted to the sky. The sparkles reflected in their eyes and Lucio’s soft ‘oh!’ and Hana’s squeal of delight made even the cold worthwhile.

Let it start slow. Basic colors, red, blue, green, as well as the gold and silver. Usual shapes, circles, stars, ones that looked like fountains or willows. Then the music shifted, became rhythmic and complex with a minor edge and he sent the first special rockets. The streaks crisscrossed, intersecting like Satya’s hard light shield, like one of her knit shawls and around it burst snowflakes, all in shades of blue and silver.

Music shifted again, bright and quick - and the second set of his own rockets split the air with a whistling crack then exploded in a crackling red heart, then a gold arrow streamed through. Lena bumped Emily’s hip with her own as their names twined through the heart. Another shift, one of Lucio’s songs, written for Hana and the rockets burst into pink bunnies and green frogs that seemed to bounce up the mountains ringing them and into the stars.

As the music shifted a final time, setting a beat with a swing, Lena grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her into a twirl, hands clenched firm but light, feet moving quick, spinning each other in and out and then they were dancing and so were Hana and Lucio and even Mei tugged Satya into the group.

And then - perfect timing, as the music sang “Seeing’ stars, I’m seeing stars” the final bursts of fireworks - his favorite of the bunch - exploded overhead and Junkrat couldn’t stop his grin at the stars he’d created. Spread above him and Roadie was their night sky. The Saucepan and the Crux. Looking right, looking perfect, not upside down like here.

For a long moment Roadhog said nothing, just stood with his face tipped up, sparks reflecting in his mask as the fireworks cracked and popped and the music thumped and the others laughed and danced.

“Thought ya might like a bit of Straya,” Junkrat said finally, unable to wait for Roadhog to say something. Anything. Maybe he hadn’t recognized it after all. Or maybe it wasn't anything like he’d hoped. Maybe it only looked like home because he was remembering it so clearly. Imagining it. Making it all up again. He shoved his hand in his pocket as a gust of wind swept over them and a sneeze slammed into him, followed quickly by two more. “Huh-r’isssh! Isshh! Ishhew!”

Didn’t even hear Roadhog move, but suddenly he was right there, shoving his hat down over Junkrat’s head and then wrapping his scarf around Junkrat’s neck.

“Stay warm, idiot.”

“Trying,” he said, shivering still. He let Roadie lead him over to the fire which had grown to a roaring height, pouring out a welcome heat. Pine logs crackled and spat sparks swirling into the sky to swirl with the real stars and their backwards constellations.

Lucio cranked his own mix and the bass echoed off the mountains and Lena and Emily still danced with him and Hana. Mei and Satya huddled together, passing a mug of something between them and for a moment, just for a minute, everything felt fine. Felt good.

Junkrat glanced at Roadhog, and though the mask obscured his expression, there was a looseness in his shoulders, something in the tilt of his head that seemed to speak of relaxation and calm. Made the cold and exhaustion worth it. “Happy Christmas, Roadie.”

“Happy Christmas, Rat.” The warmth in his tone did more to drive away the chill than the fire and Junkrat leaned against his side, letting himself enjoy the closeness.

After a bit, the others joined them around the fire and Lena passed a joint around, “For everyone except you, Junkrat. Sorry.”

He shrugged, pulled a flask out of his pocket. “Not gonna share my plague. Got this anyway.” The whiskey left a warm curl in the center of his belly, his muscles loose and easy. Satya told a story about a Snow Queen whose frozen heart melted with the love of a peasant girl, and though Junkrat wanted to roll his eyes, he understood the feeling. The desire to have one’s own story told in myth - to be connected to something bigger. Lena told a story about Father Christmas. Mei about a Chinese hunter, Jia Deng, who hunted with a pet wolf and left gifts of his hunt with the poor during the cruel months of winter. Then Roadie exhaled a long puff of smoke and said,

“Bet you never heard of the Holiday Boar.”

Junkrat giggled into his scarf. “Ain’t gonna tell that one to this lot, are ya?”

Lena cocked her head quizzically. “No, can’t say I have.”

“Well. Long before the Omnium exploded, before the Omnics were even an idea someone had, the Outback was still a hardscrabble place. Dusty and hot and many were desperately poor, trying to eke a living out of land that wasn’t easily giving. One day a wild boar appeared in a village, ribs showing through its skin, hair falling out in patches, it was the most pathetic excuse for a creature the villagers had seen. Most tried to chase it away with kicks and shouts and stones thrown.

“At the edge of the village there was a farmer. He lived alone on the land. When the boar came to his homestead, the farmer’s first reaction was the same as the others - he wanted to chase it away. Nothing good could come of bringing another mouth to feed into his life. But as he raised a hand to throw a stone, he caught a glimpse of the creature’s eyes and his long dead daughter’s voice spoke in his heart. ‘Papa, please.’ His hand fell and he sighed and the boar stayed.

“In the beginning he found it annoying, an intrusion on his solitude. Still, he fed the creature, sharing the little he had, and in return it kept him company, following him like a dog and seeming to listen when he spoke. Come winter the boar was healthy and grown to a surprising size. Villagers who saw it walking with the farmer nodded knowingly - at the first cold snap he’d likely kill it, and the meat could feed them all.

“But the cold came and still the boar walked with the farmer. The villagers eyed them more than a little oddly. Finally, on the longest night of the year, the farmer was sitting by a fire with the boar at his side as usual. The farmer was lamenting that the land had been even more reticent than usual, and he was likely to lose his home to the mortgagers.

“The boar’s stomach gave a great rumble, then it leaned forward and puked up a pile of gold coins onto the ground. The farmer never went hungry again and the village prospered.”

Junkrat couldn’t help himself, he burst out laughing.

Hana laughed too, shook her head. “There’s no way that’s a thing.”

“It’s Australia,” Roadhog argued, deadpan voice. “It absolutely is.”

Lucio nodded, took a drag from the joint. “I could see it.”

They told stories and Lucio led them in carols and the warmth of the fire and the whiskey and Roadhog at his side and Lena’s jokes “What do you call a dinosaur fart? A blast from the past! Why does a duck have tail feathers? To cover his butt quack!” and Emily’s laughter lulled Junkrat into a doze.

“He snores louder than a boar,” Satya said, irritably. Lena giggled.

“You gave him your scarf,” Hana said to Roadhog and her tone was equal parts teasing and curious.

Junkrat felt Roadie’s shoulders move in a shrug. “Never takes care of himself, even when he’s sick.” But though he was more than half asleep, he could hear the tight coldness of the comment. The relaxed ease had gone. Junkrat wanted to sit up and interrupt, but he was just so tired.

“Gave him your cold too, huh.” Still that sing-song teasing tone, but it cut at Junkrat.

“Maybe.”

“Come on, Roadhog. What’s up with you two, anyway? He won’t give us a straight answer.”

Felt like everyone’s eyes were on them, staring. Junkrat tensed. Sit up, he told himself. Stop this. But he didn’t. He wanted to know what Roadhog would say, even more than he didn’t want to know.

Roadhog’s shoulder moved in another shrug. “Someone’s gotta keep him from offing himself on accident.”

Mei laughed; least no one else did.

Ice through his body, through his stomach, his mind, his lungs. He coughed against it, but it didn’t move. The fire had burned down to little more than embers and even scarf and hat, mitten and whiskey weren’t enough to keep him warm. He forced himself up then, away from Roadhog. Faked a yawn like he just woke up.

“Knackered. Gonna call it a night. Happy Christmas all.” Forced the words past lips that felt frozen and barely heard the others saying goodnight and thanks for the fireworks.

The moon glowed on the snow, lighting the way back to the cabin enough to keep him from stumbling on tree roots and rocks. His foot crunched softly on pine needles and he heard Roadhog’s louder footfalls behind him. He walked faster. Just wanted to be inside, to be alone, to be warm, to be silent. Even the light of the Christmas tree seemed to mock him with its fake promise of coziness. He’d take a bath, let the water warm his bones, soothe the chills, then sleep.

“When I said ya ain’t gotta babysit me no more, I meant it,” Junkrat said stiffly as Roadhog followed him into the bathroom. “Promise I ain’t gonna drown in the bath. Even I’m not stupid enough to do that.”

“How’re you going to get in and out?” Roadhog asked bluntly.

Junkrat turned to look and of course there were no bars to let him navigate it himself. Once he took off his prosthetics he’d be screwed. Fuck. He pushed past Roadhog and out of the bathroom. Wasn’t worth it.

But the bedroom was just as bad. Wanted to collapse onto the bed and sleep for a century or ten, but Roadhog was standing there in the middle of the room taking up all of the space and all of the air and Junkrat knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with his… looming. Instead he shoved the pillows to the head of the cot and sat against the wall, wrapping a blanket around himself. Just barely resisted pulling it over his head, too. Knew Roadie would stare and it was making him jittery. Not in a good way. His head ached again, skin tight with the too hot too cold feeling of returning fever. Should have asked Lucio for more meds. He rubbed a hand over his face, wishing for relief. Wishing for Roadie’s hand on his forehead again, cool and firm and steadying.

“Gonna tell me what’s eating you?” Roadhog asked, finally. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked down at Junkrat from his full height. Not exactly the most inviting posture.

“What are we?” The question spilled from him like he was vomiting. “An’ don’t give me some stupid shit like you don’t know what I mean. Hana asks and Lucio asks and you avoid the question.”

“Why do we need to put words to it? Why do they need to know anything?”

Junkrat shrugged. It wasn’t for them that he needed words. It was him. He needed a foundation, an understanding. Because things were slippery and they could slide away from him before he had a chance to catch hold. “It’s me askin’. Now that ya ain’t my bodyguard. What are we?”

A long pause, a silence full of all the things Roadhog didn’t say.

“Morrison said I could leave,” Junkrat blurted, unable to stand it.

Roadhog waited.

“Said if this do-gooder shit was too bloody difficult he’d have Lena turn me in. Serve my time and then whatever came next was my choice.”

No response.

“Told him I’d have to talk to you about it, but he said just meant me. I been thinkin...’ we should do it. Could probably convince him to let you go too. Then when we were far enough away could hijack the Orca, dump Lena and head back to Straya. Head home. Get the treasure, sell it to the Queen and find a place to just… live.” He blinked and the after-image of fireworks burst across his vision, constellations in all their permutations. Home. Was it? Didn’t really know anymore… But maybe there it wouldn’t be so hard, maybe there it would be like it had been.

Still no response, no movement at all. Like Roadhog’d turned to stone. Mountain. Felt his gaze go cold, measuring, calculating. Had seen Roadhog turn that gaze on others, size them up, find them lacking… but not on himself. He froze. Utterly still. Waited for the judgment to fall. Then Roadhog laughed. Not like something was funny, or maybe like he was funny and the sound was brittle and sharp in his ears.

“What’s so bloody funny, mate?” and his own voice held an edge.

“The idea that I would want to leave this,” he gestured around the room, taking in everything, “give up the good thing I got going here to… what? Live out some tiny shit life in that hellhole with you? Why the fuck do you think I’d want to go back to that? And with you?” He positively roared with laughter. “You are thick as a rock. Batshit crazy. A complete mess. Sure, when there wasn’t anyone else around who wasn’t trying to kill me, you were good for a laugh. A way to get my rocks off. But in the real world? Fuck no.”

“Fuck you too.” The words scraped his throat and he wished he had covered his head because he had that ominous prickling behind his eyes like he was going to fucking cry, or sneeze, and either way he was fucking well not going to give Roadhog the satisfaction.

“You want to know what we are, Junkrat? We ain’t shit. Nothing. Do what you want, stay or go. I couldn’t possibly give less of a shit.”

“Well that’s fuckin’ clear as crystal. Why don’t you fuck off then an’ let me sleep.” He grit his teeth, bit the inside of his cheek hard enough that he tasted iron. Not going to crumble. Watched as Roadhog turned and crossed the room. Watched the door click shut behind him. Watched the blank wall and refused to let himself crack. Silence then, that he’d wanted. But no warmth. Even wrapped in blankets felt like he was sitting in a snowstorm. Everything muffled and frozen. Freezing.

Then that chuckle in his head. You got an answer. Might not have been the one you wanted, but really Jamison, what did you expect? Did you honestly think he would go back to an irradiated waste land and a criminal life to be with you?

He thumped his head back against the wall, squeezed his eyes shut. Clenched his fist so hard his nails bit into his palm. Shut it. Ain’t real.

No? So make me be silent, then. More laughter. Oh Jamison. How do you think someone would want to be with you when your own mother couldn’t stand to be with you?

You don’t know nothing ‘bout my mum, he told her. Nothing. But a couple tears leaked free, and the tingling prickles made him sneeze and he buried his head in the blankets and let himself go until he fell asleep, her laughter and Roadhog’s laughter still ringing in his head.

Sleep was restless, part of him kept jerking awake thinking he heard the door open. He hadn’t. When he finally woke completely he felt like he’d been hit by the ute, then had it back over him again. He stumbled out to the living room where he found Hana and Lucio playing a game with Emily, and Mei and Satya watching.

“Morning, Junkrat,” Lucio said.

“More like afternoon,” Hana corrected.

“Potato potahto,” Lucio shrugged. “Wanna join? You can play winner.”

“Nah,” he cleared his throat, tried to sound nonchalant. “Where’s Roadie?”

“Apparently Morrison sent him on some mission. Something going on in Australia. Lena took him early this morning,” Satya said.

“Guess you didn’t go ‘cause you’re sick?” Hana asked.

“Yeah. Something like that.” His head went light. Hadn’t thought Roadhog would actually leave. Take the treasure for himself and go… but there it was. He made his way into the kitchen on a floor that seemed to rock like a boat. Opened the sat comm with numb fingers.

“Morrison.”

“It’s Fawkes. I’ll take your offer. I want to turn myself in.”