By the time dawn finally broke Junkrat's lids were heavy, but it was hardly the first time he'd skipped a night's sleep. He paced the hallway, gnawing on his lip as he tried to convince himself that this was a good idea. It was, or at least the best plan he had, but... what if it wasn't? What if he was wrong and this just made things worse and then... and then...

He'd been having this argument with himself since he got up. Sometimes quietly in his head while he tinkered in the workshop, other times out loud because it was easier that way and he didn't have anyone else to listen to, to fill in the spaces between the intermittent clinks of metal. It would have been nice if Symmetra were about but she had the strictest bedtime routine of anyone in the base. So he worked alone, muttering to himself, expression changing rapidly as he flipped between the total conviction that this would work and the dull certainty that he was doomed to failure.

Hana, it seemed, had forgiven his slip up. He didn't frighten her. But she was always the fiercest of the two. Stubbornly brave, never backing down from a challenge... and maybe that's what he was in her eyes, a challenge. An uncivilized maniac that should reasonably stand no chance of fitting in here, one that she was determined to find a place for... he wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse.

The fact was though that Lucio was not Hana. Lucio didn't like watching nature documentaries because the animals died. Heck, how could a guy like that just forget what a threat he'd proven himself to be? Ignore the fear like it didn't have every right to be there? Why was he even bothering to think he had a chance of fixing that?

The answer was obvious... if he didn't fix it, then everything would slip away. He'd ruin what he had left, Hana would give up too, and then it would just be him and Hog... just the two of them... and that should be enough, right? It always had been before... but somehow a taste of this new life left him hungry for more. Greedy. Junkrat supposed he'd always been greedy. Came with the criminal territory.

Hana had promised him that an apology would work, and with that thought in his head he'd finally managed to convince himself that it was worth the risk on the off chance she was right. Yet the longer he waited, the harder it got.

The clank of his peg leg as he walked circles wasn't loud enough to fill the quiet, to drown out the steadily increasing ringing in his ears... he was jittery. It was too still, too empty, and he moved with no sense of purpose, just anxiety like a creature pacing its cage... he wanted to get out. To go, to do something, to be somewhere else, to build something or break something or steal something or even just yabber his head off... but here he lingered, frustration tying him in knots as his hands sought out anything to occupy them and his eyes mapped out every inch of the narrow hall... because if he left, he wasn't sure that he'd come back. So he had to stay. Had to, even when he wanted nothing more than to run.

Then the door opened, and whatever he'd been feeling before morphed into an entirely fresh kind of panic.

Lucio was still in his Pajamas - a loose green shirt and shorts – and his eyes appeared out of focus like he was still half asleep, ready to make his usual trudge to the coffee machine before breakfast. It took him a moment to register Junkrat standing there, all six and a half foot of awkward, gangly limbs. He blinked, taking a small step back.

Junkrat shuffled, trying his best to look like he'd just been on his way past and not, perhaps, lurking outside for the better part of an hour. Everything he'd planned to say ran screaming, and his head felt painfully blank. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He'd wanted to open with a joke, a smile, a laugh... yet he stood here like a deer in the headlights and all he could manage was a grimace. He was going to fuck it up. He was going to fuck it up and he knew it.

Junkrat coughed, founded her remembered what words were. "Oi, uh... this is for you."

He shoved the little metal object into Lucio's hands more gruffly than he meant to, stepping back immediately. He couldn't keep still, kept fidgeting on the spot, but his gaze was fixed on Lucio's face as he tried desperately to unravel his expression.

Lucio's eyes were wide. Alarmed, Junkrat decided with a sinking feeling. Shit.

Slowly the DJ's attention fell to the object resting in his palms. He turned it over cautiously, examining it. "It's... um... not going to explode, is it?"

Junkrat laughed. The sounded tapered off to a nervous titter and he shook his head. "Nah mate... least, not unless ya want it to... sure I could rig somethin' impressive if ya like-"

"No, no," Lucio interrupted hurriedly, "it's cool man. Not exploded is good..."

He returned his attention to the object, studying it. Junkrat shuffled from foot to peg leg and back again, still at a loss for what to do with himself and beginning to entertain the idea of simply walking away rather than enduring this slow, humiliating death. Why did he think this was a good idea? This was stupid, stupid even by his standards... and now he had to wait, unable to do anything while this terrible plan ran to its inevitable conclusion... he hated waiting.

Then Lucio let out a sudden sound, causing him to flinch. "Oh! It's a frog, isn't it?"

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised it had taken him so long. Junkrat's creation was patchy, a mish-mash of parts he'd liberated from the workshop and put together almost on a whim. It lacked the elegance of Symmetra's work, or the old-fashioned, sturdy simplicity of Torbjorn's... in fact the only positive word that seemed to fit his design was 'creative'. It wasn't refined, it wasn't pretty, just the best he'd been able to do with what he could scavenge... the more he thought about it the worse it looked. Just a piece of junk. A vaguely frog shaped piece of junk. The fuck had he been thinking again?

"Yeah," Junkrat admitted reluctantly, scratching at the back of his neck, "ya like them things, right? Frogs?"

Lucio seemed mystified. "I do... you made this? For me?"

"Nah I made it for ice girl. Course it's for you ya dipstick! Figured I, eh, owed ya somethin' after before... made a right twat of meself. Weren't thinkin' straight, not that that's any excuse..." He trailed off, still trying to read Lucio's expression. "So... reckon what I'm tryin' ta say is... sorry?"

It took far too long for Lucio to respond. Long enough for Junkrat to draw a thousand miserable conclusions, for his nails to start biting into his palm through the fabric of his glove... his brows knit together in a scowl, lips pursed tight as he got ready to storm off, to forget this whole bloody conversation...

Then hesitantly, the DJ's fingers curled around the tiny frog, drawing it closer to his chest. He smiled. A careful smile, one that seemed near confused, but a smile none the less. He met Junkrat's darting eyes. "Thanks man."

Junkrat let out a slow, shaky breath, and smiled right back at him. All manic cheer and teeth. "Yer welcome, mate!"

And part of him was still giddy with disbelief, and part of him was beginning to wonder if this was some sick kind of trick, and part of him was busy piecing together a joke, but most of him... most of him was just happy. Lucio didn't hate him. Lucio wasn't yelling, or telling him to get lost, or backing away. He wasn't frightened. A little tense maybe, but not really frightened. Junkrat had a second chance and this time he swore he wouldn't mess it up.

A laugh bubbled out of him, light and airy. "Right, well, I got things to do, guess I better hop to it..."

Lucio's lips quirked up just a little more. "Okay... I'll see you round..?"

The way he said it made it seem almost like a question. Junkrat shrugged. "Maybe."


When he found his way back to his room Roadhog was waiting. He took one look at Junkrat and grunted. Good, it seemed to say, you're back to normal.

"Oh rack off," he muttered, but there was no sharpness to the words. He dumped his frag launcher carelessly on the desk along with the traps he'd picked up from the store room. He was pretty sure his blanket was still in the workshop but he couldn't be bothered collecting it, not yet.

Instead he collapsed onto the bed, humming contentedly to himself. Hadn't decided what else he was going to do with the day. Perhaps he'd try and track down Tracer again, see if she was more amenable to the idea of letting him near her pulse bombs this time... or he could have another go at stealing the cowboy's hat... or see if the big armored guy would agree to be test subject for his latest batch of mines... or if the old lady would be willing to sleep dart someone again and let him draw faces on them... or even just see if Symmetra was up for a good yack. All the possibilities were there, he just had to reach for them.

Roadhog turned to go, apparently satisfied that his intervention would not be needed after all.

"Oi Hoggy?" Junkrat called after him, rolling onto his side.

"Hmmmm?"

"Ya don't mind, do ya? Stayin' here, this Overwatch shindig? I mean... 's not what we planned, no big scores or fancy heists an' I ain't got much to split fifty-fifty but... it ain't all bad... keeps the cops off our trail, and them Talon pricks too... think maybe it wouldn't hurt to stay after all... if ya feel the same..." he added, watching his partner closely.

Roadhog's looming figure slowed, and he looked over his shoulder. "'s good for you," he rumbled eventually.

"Eh?"

"Good for you," he said again, as if that clarified. "Here."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Roadhog paused, considering his next words carefully. That was often the way with him Junkrat thought, ponderous in comparison to his own fast paced chatter. "It's different. Living here. More like... before. You wouldn't remember."

"Ya mean before the omnium?" Junkrat asked, eyes widening. Roadhog almost never spoke about the old Australia. He'd been too young to recall anything of it himself, had grown up in the aftermath of the nuclear fallout, scavenging and stealing to survive, but Roadhog was older. He was there in those times.

Exactly what Junkrat thought about it depended largely on his mood. Sometimes he didn't give a toss about 'what was', it wasn't like he knew enough to miss it... other times he pined after that old land something fierce, at the kind of life he'd never had a chance at. He'd pestered Roadhog for stories, but his bodyguard remained stony on the subject, offering monosyllabic answers at best and a warning slap at worst.

This time though Roadhog gave a nod. "Yeah..."

Junkrat's grin was smug. "So ya like it here then?"

There was no way for him to read his expression with the mask but Junkrat had more than enough practice deciphering his posture, in the subtle ways he shifted. Roadhog seemed offended at the suggestion, mildly irritated that Junkrat would not just accept his words and leave it there, but not angry. He huffed, breath wheezing in and out before he chose his reply. "I'm in no rush..." he said begrudgingly. "If you want to stay a while, that's fine."

Junkrat supposed that was the most he could hope for. He cackled to himself. "Just a big softie, ain't ya? The 'one-man-apocalypse', pffft! Wish the rest of 'em knew, still look at ya like they think you'd rip their heads off..."

"Maybe I would."

Junkrat knew he could, if he wanted to, had seen it first hand. But then again he'd been with Roadhog for long time and his head was still very much attached to his neck despite how much of a nuisance he'd been.

He snorted, giggled, and flopped onto his back. "Course ya would, mate, an' I'd set the whole damn place on fire an' have us a barbecue... but no point in it just yet... wouldn't exactly be polite, yeah?"

Roadhog only grunted, and he must have considered that an end to the conversation because he lumbered off. Junkrat let him go, mind already drifting elsewhere.


That night he made his way to Hana's room. The door was just slightly ajar as they'd taken to leaving it, and he could hear the sound of their voices inside, spilling out into the gloomy corridor with the yellow light. He hadn't been here in days. Wasn't sure quite how long, but long enough that his presence felt awkward, and he hovered outside for a moment just listening. He'd fixed this. He'd apologized today. He knew he'd fixed this, yet being here spurred an odd twinge of doubt. They sounded so happy without him there, bickering about some online thing he didn't understand and it seemed so obvious that if he walked in he'd be the intruder, the outsider, the enemy...

He closed his eyes, fighting down the urge to fidget, the urge to run. Instead he thumped his prosthetic against the doorframe and after a split-second pause stuck his head in. His grin was wide but strained, gaze dancing rapidly as he assessed the situation. "Miss me?"

"Hey! Rat's here!" Hana cried, rolling over the bed and all but kicking Lucio in her excitement. "What took you so long?"

Lucio turned to look and he was smiling too. "Come on in man, Hana's got this new game she'd been bugging us to play, you'll love it."

And he did. And just like that, everything seemed to fall back into place again.


((After a nasty earthquake and endless aftershocks I've been too anxious to sleep so I wrote this instead. Honestly this is just turning into tooth-rotting fluff, I'll have to think of some new way to spice it up. Thank you for reading (and especially those who have commented, I love you)!))