The immediate sense of betrayal cut deep. Junkrat pulled away, looking wounded.
"Ya knew about this?" he demanded, his jaw clenched tight and hands curling into fists. "Kept it secret?"
Roadhog said nothing, but Junkrat was beginning to puzzle things together by himself. It suddenly all made sense. "Ya all knew, didn't ya? Y'were all bloody well in on it, that's why ya never wanted me goin' anywhere by meself! Fuck, why would they do this? Even you... They mess with yer 'ead or somethin'? Tryin' ta mess with mine? Why, what's the point?!"
His voice rose to a near shriek, eyes burning with unchecked fury.
Those glass lenses stared back, no answer in their depths.
He'd always known it. You couldn't trust anyone, they'd always turn on you. Act like your mate, then fuck you over when it was convenient. He'd been a fool to think this was any different. That's what you got for thinking you had friends, they tossed you aside for some talking scrap heap without so much as a second thought... They'd lied to him, or as good as lied, left him helpless while this Omnic floated around the base as it pleased.
"You appear distressed, if you would allow me to-" the thing began, but Junkrat snarled at it.
"Don't you fuckin' come near me or I'll strip ya for parts, ya fuckin' pile a' junk!" he warned, tensed in the chair, as if readying himself to lunge at it.
Roadhog's heavy hand settled on his shoulder again, not enough pressure to hold him still, but enough to remind him of what would probably happen if he tried anything. No, he couldn't do anything here. He was still shaking, heart pounding in his chest.
The omnic hovered for a few terse seconds. "I'm sorry, I was simply offering to help."
Roadhog leaned closer to the thing and his tone was dangerously low. "Don't need your help. Piss off."
Clearly that had the more desired effect. The thing veered back for a second, as if affronted, but it quickly regained its composure and sat up straight, re-clasping its hands in its lap. Junkrat loathed how calm it appeared. As if it was somehow better than them. More civilized, when it wasn't even a person at all.
"Very well," it said, in a way that somehow managed to come across as mockingly cheerful, despite the robotic filter of its voice, "I wish you both a pleasant evening."
With another circular wave the omnic floated off down the corridor, leaving Junkrat seething in the wheelchair as he glared after it. He gripped hold of his peg leg, wielding the prosthetic like he planned to beat someone to death with it. Maybe he did. Junkrat didn't know anymore. Heck, he was tempted to throw it at the retreating omnic, but even he knew better than to give the thing his leg. Wasn't worth any satisfaction clocking the rust bucket over the head would give him. Didn't mean he didn't think about it anyway.
Roadhog stepped into motion, wheeling the chair in the other direction, back toward the medical ward. Junkrat spun his head round. "Oi, you're not off the hook, mate! I wanna know what the bloody hell is going on!"
"You're going back."
"Fuck that! I'm not goin' anywhere until ya give me answers! What happened? Since when are you so chummy with bots? Why'd ya never say anythin'? Why's Overwatch keepin' things from me? Is this Soldier's idea? No, stop the bloody chair, I said I'm not goin' till ya tell me!" Junkrat hissed, sticking his leg out to try and slow their progress.
Roadhog stopped. More likely he didn't want Junkrat to hurt himself struggling, rather than anything, but Junkrat would take what he could get. He was still too angry to think clearly.
"Why? Why'd ya' all lie?" he all but whined.
"Didn't lie. Just didn't tell you."
"But why?" he insisted.
Roadhog sighed. "Cos I knew you'd react like this."
"Like wot, mate? The bloody normal reaction to findin' out we're keepin' bots about the place? Why didn't ya just shoot it! What's wrong with ya!" he snapped, waving the peg leg around again violently.
"Think about it," Roadhog said slowly, with the peculiar patience he seemed to dredge up at times like these. Like he was dealing with an idiot. Junkrat hated it, hated this, hated never seeming to be able to get a solid grip on his life.
He sneered. "Think about what? That you're a bot lover now?"
That appeared to be a step too far. Roadhog's posture stiffened. "Fine, shut up and listen then. Don't like it any more than you do," he said gruffly, "but you were down and out, and I couldn't make a decision until later. Do you get it? If we kill the bot... we leave. That's what you want then whatever, but Overwatch wants this thing and you can't have them without it. It's your call."
Junkrat narrowed his eyes. "What do they want a bot for?"
"How should I know?"
He frowned, trying to pull himself together enough to consider the matter. Couldn't be any need for a maintenance bot, so they couldn't... they didn't actually want it to be part of the team, did they? Hooley dooley... of course they'd be that stupid, they trusted anyone. They'd let him in, a wanted criminal with a bounty on his head... and he'd been as much of an idiot to think he could trust them.
He'd been wrong.
Fuck, Roadhog had warned him, hadn't he? He'd said that this might not last. Junkrat had thought it was just his usual pessimistic way but maybe he'd seen where this was all going, how it would end... Junkrat just hadn't wanted to believe him. Still didn't.
Did it have to end? He didn't... he didn't want it to. Perhaps this had always been inevitable... He'd let them down on the mission and now they'd let him down in turn, proven that it would never work, that he'd just been dreaming... This wasn't home. He'd never have a home...
He let the pegleg drop into his lap, hands straying to his head as he began to tug at his hair. "What do I do?" he asked in a voice that sounded pitifully quiet compared to his usual volume. "What?"
"Your choice," Roadhog said plainly. He stood there, stoically, silent save for his breathing as he waited for Junkrat.
He wanted... he wanted to hate them, he supposed, for this treachery, for all of this mess, but it was so hard. When he thought of Lucio and , Symmetra, even Mercy and the others like the cowboy or Reinhardt... he just felt hurt. It stung. Painfully, like salt in a wound, like the jagged ache of a phantom limb... He couldn't help but remember them all visiting him, all the kind words and gifts… had that just been an act? Had it just been because they wanted to keep him under their thumb, do as they wanted? Sneak this bot past him?
No, no, Overwatch wasn't like that, sometimes there weren't reasons, not the kind he could articulate anyway… Lucio and , at least, he was sure had been genuine in their attentions. Maybe the simple truth was that they… that despite letting him join, they didn't trust him. Now why did that hurt?
He wasn't built for this. Would have been so much easier if he could just hate all of them. Would have made it easy to give up. To walk away... to leave the past in ash and ruins like he was used to. But hate refused to kindle in his heart.
Junkrat didn't want to lose this, and he'd said it to himself before... if you wanted something, really wanted it, you had to decide if it was worth the risk and when it was... when it was you stole it, tore it from your enemy's hands if you had to, but you made it yours and you never surrendered a thing.
Tentatively Junkrat lowered his shaking hands away from his disheveled hair. He clenched his jaw, and when he glared back at Roadhog there was a fierceness in his orange eyes.
"This place is mine, yeah? I ain't gonna let some stupid bot take it from me. Don't care what they say, but there's no way I'm leavin' before that thing. I got here first," he spat.
Roadhog nodded, and gave a single grunt of approval. He pushed the wheelchair back into motion and this time Junkrat didn't protest but merely stared ahead as he attempted to focus himself beyond his boiling emotions. He wasn't leaving. He wasn't giving up. Somehow, he'd find a way to fix this too, to set everything right again, somehow…
That night was a restless one. He'd never been a deep sleeper, but shut eye was impossible with the newest developments and the complications of tomorrow weighing down on his consciousness. He longed to burn something, to destroy something, to blast that stupid omnic to pieces...
Yet he couldn't. All he could do was mutter to himself, tossing and turning, trying to console himself with fantasies of carnage he had no way to enact. Had to be cunning, mindless destruction wasn't the way forward, at least not for now...
When Mercy breezed in the following morning with her coffee in hand, Junkrat was hunched over his notebook, pencil chewed down to a stump.
"Up early today are we?" she asked pleasantly, picking up a chart and going to check on the machines.
Junkrat paused. He tapped the pencil idly against the notebook. "Things to do. Gotta plan out some tweaks for the tire."
"And that is what's concerning you today?"
"I haven't forgotten Hector if that's what ya askin'," he muttered. He tossed the notebook onto the side table along with the pencil and sat up straighter, arms folded across his chest. "You been hidin' shit from me, haven't ya?"
Mercy blinked, raising her eyebrows at the sudden accusation. "I beg your pardon?"
He scrutinised her. No way she was blind to all this, it had been her doing, for sure, and he wasn't going to let that be swept under the rug no matter how brightly she smiled.
"Don't play dumb doc, I saw it all last night. You got an omnic livin' here. How long were ya plannin' to keep that a secret, eh?" Junkrat demanded.
"Oh..." she said. She folded her own arms to mirror him, looking him over contemplatively. "I suppose you ignored my suggestion to rest then?"
He gave a sharp laugh. "How do ya expect me to rest knowin' you've been hidin' a rust bucket under my nose this whole time? Thought ya wanted to make sure there was no misunderstandings between us, but ya ain't doin' a very good job of that, I can tell ya."
He didn't bother trying to hide his anger, his expression was more than clear and he wanted her to know anyway, was important that she understood he wasn't going to just let everything slide. You had to draw lines.
She was regarding him cautiously, but despite his obvious frustration Junkrat made no move toward her, no sign of anything dramatic, not that he hadn't contemplated it in the hours leading up to this. He'd already made his mind up. The doc wasn't his enemy. Not really. Whatever wariness he still held to her, he wanted to keep it that way. But that didn't mean he had to accept everything she threw at him.
She seemed to be thinking the same thing, because her posture was as calming as her tone. "Jamison... I understand this may be upsetting for you, but you should know that is precisely why we chose to keep it quiet. You were under a lot of stress given your situation, it seemed wise not to add more to your troubles until you were feeling better."
"And you get to decide that for me? What I can and can't know?" he asked with open disdain.
Mercy held her hands up in a sign of peace. "No one wanted to overwhelm you. I believe Winston planned to discuss the matter of our newest recruit after they reached a conclusion from your debriefing, not before."
"Well I don't like it," Junkrat said. "An' not just about the bot. Don't go lying to me, don't hide shit! I ain't made of glass and I'll decide what I bloody well can and can't take. We clear on that?"
He made sure to direct his flighty gaze to her, meeting her eyes for a terse few seconds until she looked away.
She nodded. "I understand."
He watched her for a moment longer, but she seemed sincere, as far as he could tell. With a sigh Junkrat leaned back, settling more comfortably. "Good. Now, ya goin' to check me outta here or what?"
Although the conversation had clearly thrown her the doc was used to falling into the rhythm of her work. Mercy ran over her usual tests, asked her usual questions and fiddled with her usual machines as if none of the last few minutes had happened at all. She was nearly done with him by the time Roadhog arrived. Junkrat busied himself attaching his pegleg as he waited.
"You mustn't strain yourself, remember," Mercy warned, scribbling out the final details on one of her forms. "I want you to rest as much as you can. That means keeping walking to a minimum for now until I'm confident your condition has improved enough. I'll be checking on you every day, so no misbehaving."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"I am serious. Don't overexert yourself."
"I got it, doc," he said with a careless flap of his hand.
Mercy sighed. Whatever else was on her mind she seemed to accept that there was little else she could do. "Very well. I can't keep you here, you're clear to go. Morrison will get Athena to notify you once they are ready to meet, stay out of trouble until then."
Junkrat insisted on wheeling himself out, though he let Roadhog take over once they were a good way down the corridor.
"Where you going?" his companion asked.
"Where d'ya think?" Junkrat said. "Gotta fix the leg since ya didn't give me the chance yesterday."
"Sure you need to?"
"What else am I gonna do? Sit around waitin'? Nah, needs sortin' so I might as well..."
Roadhog turned silent for a moment, though he continued to wheel the chair. "You're still angry."
"Course I am mate…" he muttered, "but ya don't gotta worry, I ain't plannin' on blowin' anything up just yet. Figure it's worth savin' anything more explosive for plan B, maybe make it look like an accident if we have to. But just so we've got this straight... don't hide crap like that from me again, yeah? We're supposed to be a mates, fifty-fifty, that means no bullshit."
"No bullshit," Roadhog agreed, and Junkrat could only hope that was the truth. He could trust Hog. That was the one constant he'd been sure of for the last three years, he wasn't sure what he would do if that turned out to be another lie too. No thinking about that though... there were things he didn't want his mind dwelling on.
"Right," he agreed in turn.
There was no Symmetra in the workshop this time, her schedule had her elsewhere, but Torbjorn was present and greeted them warmly. As prickly as the poor tempered engineer could be, he had a great deal of affection for his fellow agents, no matter how he denied it. Seeing Junkrat back in his favorite tinkering spot apparently put him in a good mood, and he even offered a bunch of scrap left over from some of his recent projects for whatever Junkrat wanted to cook up.
Junkrat kept his grin in place and prattled away pleasantly enough as he tweaked his peg leg into working order. After an hour a slightly wobbly circuit of the room finally had him satisfied.
While his instinct was to insist on walking for the rest of the day, he reluctantly returned to the chair once he was done. Stubborn as he was, it made sense to save his strength. No telling when he might need it now. There was more than his dignity at stake...
He spent the remainder of his time beginning to dissect the pulse bomb Tracer had left for him, but was interrupted halfway through when Athena politely informed him that his presence was requested in the briefing room. With a curse, he made sure it wasn't in danger of exploding unprovoked and left it behind.
The journey was solemn. Roadhog was often quiet, but it was less common for Junkrat. He still fidgeted non-stop, running through scenarios in his head as he grappled for an answer he'd thus far been unable to snare. He shifted in his seat, chewed at his nails, scratched at the freshly healed skin from his wounds, messed with his hair, picked at the patches on his shorts, but none of it really settled him. When they arrived he was just as tightly wound as before.
Winston, Soldier and Ana were all gathered at a table, and their eyes immediately shot to him as he rolled in.
Junkrat swallowed. "G'day," he managed, with a wide smile. Only Ana smiled back, but that might just have been because the other two were watching Roadhog. They looked as if they were contemplating asking him to leave, but Roadhog just squared his shoulders and they quickly decided it would be a futile effort.
"It's, ah, good to see you looking well," Winston said kindly, shuffling his papers.
"Well, ya know me," Junkrat told him, "ain't the first time I got meself into trouble, I tend to bounce back. Ain't about to cark it that easily."
"And you've been minding Angela's instructions?" Ana asked.
"Who, the doc? Yeah, course. That ain't what this is about though so let's get it over with shall we? Ya wanted me for a debriefing, but seein' as ya all here I'm guessin' this ain't like the usual shindig."
"Well... there are... incidents involving the last mission that make us... uh... particularly interested in your account," Winston said, attempting to speak tactfully.
"Ya mean ya wanna know why I shot that bloke?"
"Uhhh..."
"Well at least you admit it," Soldier said coldly. While Winston's posture was awkward, and Ana's calm, he held the same air of severity he always did, sitting straight with his hands folded on the table in front of him. "But start at the beginning."
Junkrat pulled a face at him, but he nodded, scratching at his chin as if pondering for a moment. "Right, well, let me see..."
He recounted as much as he could remember in his usual fashion, which was to say his description was faltering, prone to long tangents, and he frequently needed to backtrack to keep some kind of linear progression. But Junkrat figured it was fairly orderly by his standards. He had all the important bits. Hector, Talon, Mercy, Sombra, his own desperate and final rash decision to give the enemy something to reckon with.
They only interrupted him when he went too wildly off track, but otherwise they seemed intent on listening rather than scolding him. That was good, right? As he nattered on he could only hope so. He tapped anxiously at the chair's armrest, trying to focus on Hog's steady wheezing breaths rather than the unreadable expressions on their faces.
When he eventually finished he found he didn't quite want to stop speaking. Felt as if when he did then he'd ultimately have to face whatever they had to say. Would have to see if they would condemn him, judge him just cos he didn't follow quite the same fancy code they adhered to.
But they wouldn't cast him out, would they? This wasn't Junkertown. He wasn't about to lose all this now, not cos of some stupid bloke with a silver gun, not cos of some bloody bot...
Finally Soldier held up a hand to silence him after his second unrelated anecdote, and Junkrat snapped his mouth closed, eyes flickering across them. They were thinking, he could tell that much, but he couldn't decipher anything more telling than that.
"So you claim it was self defense then?" Soldier asked.
"Well, tried to shoot me, didn't he? Ain't like I had a choice."
"But was it you or him who shot first?" Soldier persisted.
"Shot at the same time, mate, I saw what he was tryin' an' I wasn't about to have any of it."
"Yet you did not attempt to subdue him non-lethally, even when you had disarmed him? To restrain him?"
"I'm a demolitions expert, ya think that's what I'm good at?" Junkrat said. Typical it was Soldier who would want to prod, bloke never let up. "Don't see what the big deal is if I'm honest... ya got no problem when it comes to Talon."
"Because Talon is working against us. Hector was an old ally, there is a difference," Soldier said, although Junkrat already knew that.
He sniffed, unimpressed. "Well, he weren't my ally, can tell ya that."
Soldier opened his mouth to retort, but Ana beat him to it. "Lets not get caught up in semantics now, shall we?"
Visibly restraining himself Soldier gave a tight nod, but allowed the rest of his body to relax. Junkrat watched him suspiciously. Had Hector been a friend of his too? Wasn't like he was going to ask. Their relationship was strained enough without pressuring for details on something like that, and he didn't give a toss either way.
"So... what's the story? Am I in the clear?" he asked, trying his best to sound light.
"I think we'd best discuss amongst ourselves before we come to any final decision," the sniper told him gently, giving a motherly smile.
It didn't satisfy Junkrat though, and he scowled, hunching forward to gnaw at his nails. "So ya want me to just wait?"
"Your account had been very helpful, but it's given us a lot to think about," Winston said, "and not just about... well, not just about that. You say you knew this Sombra from Dorado?"
Oh. He paused for a second, running through his memory. "Uh... well she did. Don't remember meself. Ya got anythin' Roadie?" He glanced back at Roadhog, but the man said nothing, so Junkrat just shrugged.
"More troubling that Talon knew you would be there... bit much of a coincidence, don't you think?" Ana said quietly. Her and Soldier exchanged a glance.
"You think we have an information leak?" Soldier's gaze immediately swiveled to Junkrat.
Junkrat seethed. "Oi, what ya lookin' at me for?"
Soldier looked almost embarrassed for an instant, but he shook it off, strengthening his resolve. "Well, you do have a criminal record..."
That bloody...
"Oh fuck off, that don't mean nothin'! Ya think I tried to sell ya out then blew meself up cos I was bored or somethin'? Maybe I ain't so upstandin' as all you sorts, but that don't mean I don't got principles. Besides, me and them Talon fucks ain't exactly on the best terms."
"Manners, dear," Ana reminded him and Junkrat gave a brief wave to show he had heard.
"No one's accusing you," Winston said.
"Ya sure about that? Cos he sure looks like he's thinkin' about it," Junkrat snapped, jabbing a finger in Soldier's direction. "This is all his fault, ya know. Told him this mission wouldn't go well. Told him I'd tell him so. And see, I remembered! So ha! What do ya say to that?"
"That's not how you address a superior officer," Soldier said, narrowing his eyes.
Prick always insisted on acting so proper. That was the last straw for Junkrat, no way in hell he was going to let this bloke look down on him.
Junkrat pushed up from his chair, wobbling slightly but quickly finding his balance. Hurt to stand so tall but now was not the time to show weakness, not when he wanted to make his point.
"I'm just sayin' the truth," he snapped, advancing a step, "which is better than you lot. Don't think I don't know. I ain't stupid. Ya got an omnic here. Ya wanna find your information leak? That's where ya should be lookin'. Ya can't trust them things, on my oath, they ain't worth the scrap."
A deathly silence fell.
Soldier was the first to speak. "Zenyatta is a friend of Genji's, and was kind enough to offer his assistance, he is perfectly trustworthy."
Junkrat just snorted. "It's a bot. Ya just gotta look at Oz to see what they're like, they're the reason the outback's the way it is."
"As I recall, Fawkes, it that was the doing of your own extremists-"
Junkrat tensed and Roadhog growled.
"Perhaps that's enough for now," Ana cut in smoothly, getting to her own feet. "We're all well aware of Australia's history and the Omnic crisis, and how both of you may feel, but that's not the issue at the moment. You're not the only two with a dislike for omnics, and the others have agreed to remain civil, so I'm sure we can trust you to behave too, hmmmm? Why don't we all take a break and come back once we've worked out the matter of your last mission?"
"I think that sounds like a great idea!" Winston said with relief. He adjusted his glasses, looking hopefully at the rest of the room's occupants.
"Yeah, whatever," Junkrat muttered, and Soldier gave his own begrudging agreement.
All it meant to Junkrat was more waiting. More time left to stew over this, and he didn't understand why they just couldn't give him a bloody answer now, let him work out what kind of ground he was on so he could figure out how to deal with the bot, but they just let all these jumbled threads tangle together until he felt trapped. He really wanted to destroy something.
He staggered out of the room with what dignity he had, and collapsed into the wheelchair when they were out of view. He was paradoxically exhausted and frantic, but no immediate solution was at hand.
"Oi Hog?" he said, as the departed. "Ya wanna go test out a pulse bomb?"
"Okay."
That was comforting enough, and he let the larger man steer the way. Hog understood. One person was better than nothing...
His mind drifted back over the mess of the debriefing, and his grin turned sour. He knew he didn't have the best temper, knew he didn't have the best way with words, but still…
"Shouldn't have yelled, should I? Ya reckon I blew it?"
His bodyguard made a noncommittal grunt. "We'll see."
