Rust wasn't something Junkrat had to worry about too often. He was diligent enough about oiling his prosthetics, and frankly there had never been much water in the Outback anyway. The rain was sparse, and when it did rain... when it did rain, you'd have to be a right fruitloop to stand out in the open. Never could tell with rain.
Sometimes it was a blessing, liquid gold to parched throats and brittle plantlife, soaking into the cracked ground and washing the dust from tin roofs like the healing hand of god. Other times it could melt a bloke's skin off.
Course, rain in the rest of the world was a good deal more frequent and largely harmless. It had taken Roadhog a while to convince him, but he hadn't yet seen anyone blistered or burned by the fall of rain outside of Oz, and when the bastard had shoved him out into it to prove a point he had to admit it felt more gentle than anything. Hadn't stopped him painting over the lenses of his mask during the night in retaliation, and that caused a whole shitload more trouble than Junkrat bargained for, but as each storm passed tame as the last he began to accept that the rest of the world didn't share the same problem.
He still avoided the rain where he could, partially out of habit, partially because... well, rust. It was an unfortunate consequence of his metal limbs, and one he couldn't see a way around. Except maybe getting some fancy prosthetics like Symmetra's arm, but he was fucked if he was ever gonna let someone else build any part of him – he liked knowing how they functioned, he liked knowing he could probably fix them in a pinch. He liked them because they were his.
But right now after a short stint in the ocean they needed cleaning, cos the last thing he wanted to deal with was bloody rust.
Roadhog stuck closer than usual to him as he set up in the workshop. He started with the arm, pulling off the casing so that he could get at the inner mechanisms to wipe them down and chase out any lingering moisture.
"The bot has to go... and I know what ya gonna say, that ain't news, but it's up to somethin', and it makes me skin crawl," he muttered as he worked, removing one of the many pieces designed to guide the wires that articulated his fingers. "Trouble is, it ain't just gonna disappear. It's like ya said before, we shoot it, we go – they won't understand it's gotta be done. But we ain't fuckin' leavin' cos of this tin can. So... so, I'm thinkin' the smart thing to do is wait till we land a mission with the thing, see that it has a little accident, right? But there's no bloody tellin' how long that's gonna take, they still got me loungin' around like some kinda invalid-"
"Still injured."
"So what?" Junkrat demanded, stabbing the screwdriver with a little more force than necessary. "Ain't like I've never had ta fight with a few cuts and scrapes before, I can walk an' shoot and those are the two important things, yeah?"
"Few more days," Roadhog told him.
"Few more days," Junkrat parroted mockingly. "Then what? Think they might have me on probation or some shit, still pissed about the last mission. But let's say they let it slide, right, but then we still got no way of knowin' how long 'til they stick us on a mission with the bot. Could be months, and I'm tired of waitin', Roadie, I'm tired."
The last words came out as a whine. There was more truth to them than he liked to admit, things weren't making sense again and he didn't know how to fix them... it was all wrong, and he didn't know, he didn't know... the spiral of uncertainty was threatening to overwhelm him once more, and he really should just go blow something up cos that at least always seemed to ground him. To chase away any doubt or fear, leave only flames and smoke and lethal firepower at his fingertips... fingers that itched so badly for a trigger to pull.
But his arm needed cleaning, and his little dip in the ocean had sapped his strength leaving his body weary and sore, and if it wasn't for everything else he'd honestly just want to curl up in corner and sleep...
But he couldn't.
He slumped forward across the workbench, considering the mess of his partially constructed mechanical arm, twirling the screwdriver between his fingers.
He was aware of Roadhog's eyes on him, but it was a while before the man spoke.
"What do you call a pig that's no fun?"
Junkrat paused, lifting his head slightly as he turned to fix him with an inquisitive stare. "Dunno, mate, what?"
"A bore," Roadhog informed him, perfectly deadpan.
It took a moment for him to process, but then it finally clicked, and a grin split across his face. Junkrat snickered, then laughed, then broke into full out breathless cackles, slapping the work bench appreciatively and sending the components in front of him scattering. "Mate, you're a riot, proper comedian!"
Junkrat had the suspicion it was a joke he'd probably been told before, but frankly he didn't give a toss, because it was hilarious and he saw no point fighting the warm feeling washing over him. His grin lingered, and reached across to give Roadhog's belly an affectionate poke. "Need to rethink yer career choices."
Roadhog snorted, giving him a gentle shove in return, and Junkrat just giggled.
As soon as his glee subsided to something more sensible he straightened up, nodding to himself. "Ya right mate, we'll figure this one out. Watch my back an' I'll watch yours."
Roadhog folded his arms. His posture may have been stern, but his tone seemed more resigned than anything. "Tell me first. Before you start shit next time."
"Sure... ya got my word," Junkrat promised, trying to figure where he'd left off work on his arm in his mirth. He couldn't quite remember which parts he'd finished cleaning, hadn't had a system in mind when he'd set to taking it apart so he'd put some of the more important stuff back in while other pieces still littered the work bench. He ended up having to check most of it over, but that was fine. He had Roadhog for company, and that big oaf somehow always made him feel a little steadier. He'd had years to earn that aura of security. From the lawless society of the Outback to the countless countries they'd plundered during their international crime spree, somehow the two of them had always pulled through. This time was just a little more complex, but so what?
By the time he'd finished work on his leg though exhaustion was weighing on him more than he expected. Stifling a yawn, he stretched, ignoring the crack of his joints.
"Think ya can keep an eye out for the bot for a while? Thinkin' I could use a nap right about now."
He didn't need to explain why vigilance was important, why they needed to be sure the omnic wasn't up to anything while he lowered his guard. Oh, on that they both shared an implicit understanding.
Roadhog gave him a nod and a low grunt of confirmation, and Junkrat hauled himself up, ready to stagger off through headquarters in search of a secluded spot to settle.
"Rat," Hog called after him, and he paused. "Tell me first, remember."
"Yeah yeah," Junkrat said with an absent wave, "message received."
He awoke with a stiffness in his muscles and the hint of a headache threatening his skull. Worse than that though was the sense of uncertainty that left him staring at the ceiling for a good few minutes longer than he needed to. As he listened to the rattling of the pipes in the darkness Junkrat was struck by an uncharacteristic hesitancy. Time was meant to be spent. He'd never liked inactivity, needed things to do, itched for them, a compulsion that had gripped him for as long as he could remember. Yet he couldn't work out where to start... like searching for the end of a length of string but only finding a tangled mess that refused to come undone… and then being told you couldn't just hack it apart with a knife.
It always came back to the omnic.
He grimaced. Cold, mechanical, dangerous, and somehow untouchable because Overwatch didn't know what the fuck they were dealing with. Somehow he needed to solve the problem skirting their rules, needed to be smart, needed to be careful... for once he couldn't shrug his shoulders and blast the problem into tiny pieces with his favourite tried and tested solution - explosives. This required more fineness...
But he didn't have the answer yet, had fucked up his last attempt, so for now there was nothing to do about it... nothing but hesitate, with the same energy that had him jittering on the spot when he wasn't sure where to go.
But he couldn't just lie there. Couldn't, cos he was never good at staying still, and because even if he didn't have the solution right now there was other stuff to do, and if he wasted more time he'd just get himself worked up and panicking over the bloody omnic all over again, and he'd be going in circles.
One foot forward, right? Or peg leg.
He snickered to himself. Yeah, that was the spirit.
Junkrat stretched with a systematic popping of joints, immediately moving on to grab his limbs from where they rested beside him and re-attatching them to his person. When he emerged from the boiler room he'd hidden himself in and out of the lower reaches of the base, he ambled without any real direction in mind, trying to pin what exactly it was that was driving him... something that didn't involve the bot.
Maybe he should visit someone. Have a good yak.
But his launcher supplies were still low, and as Junkrat thought about it, he decided that was the more pressing matter. Even if he couldn't risk using it, he liked having firepower at his disposal. Made him feel strong, like he had weight to throw around. It took the edge off things for a bloke to have a few little friends like those to fall back on.
So that was what he'd do, right? And maybe once he got bored of that, he'd go look for someone to pester, but searching around the base these days always ran the risk of bumping into the bot. Ruined everything.
Satisfied he at least had decided what the hell he was doing, he limped back to the workshop. With Roadhog keeping an eye on the tincan he didn't expect an ambush to be waiting for him.
Maybe he shouldn't go calling it that these days. It was just Hana and Lucio.
Still, somehow they just knew where to wait for him, had even tracked him down where he slept once or twice despite his peculiar choices of hiding spot, and he knew they never meant any harm. He knew that. Just didn't particularly like walking into a room and finding people waiting there for him with sharp, attentive eyes, or the way they always alerted at the sight of him like bounty hunters across a bar. Made a fellow double check his exits. Made his fingers twitch for his frag launcher.
Still, he managed a lopsided grin and oh-so nonchalant wave, kicking his instincts back where they belonged.
"G'day. Not often I see ya round here."
"We were looking for you," Lucio said, and Junkrat frowned, searching his tone for a hidden layer of accusation there. He didn't look angry, not really, but he looked... something.
"Why?" Junkrat asked airly, wandering the rest of the way in to dump his things on the workbench. No sign of Symmetra or the workshop's other frequent users. Might mean nothing, he had no clue what the time was.
"Cuz we heard you nearly got yourself killed, dummy, why else!" Hana interrupted, arms crossed impetuously. She sat on one of the other workbenches, legs swinging above the ground. "Wanted to make sure you were okay."
Junkrat gestured to himself. "Well, I still ain't dead."
"Yeah," she said, "but are you okay?"
He frowned, scratching at the back of his neck. Wasn't quite sure how to answer a question like that, or even how it was relevant, but it seemed like she expected something from him nonetheless. Explaining his mess of emotions regarding the whole business and everything surrounding it wasn't something he wanted to do even if he thought he could articulate it... He decided to remain evasive.
"Was me own fault, no surprises there," he settled on eventually. "Ain't gonna say it was pleasant, but the doc let me go so I'm all good, just tuckered out is all. No bits missin' or nothin'. At least no more than usual." He gave a forced chuckle.
Junkrat didn't think it was what they hoped for, but thankfully they seemed to accept it anyway.
Hana sighed dramatically. "Yeah, except your hair's acting different, all squashed... wish I had seen it when it was wet, I bet you looked like a total drowned rat."
An image of a very bedraggled creature sprung into his mind.
"Hana..." Lucio nudged at her worriedly, but he needn't have been concerned. Junkrat's grin broadened, and before he could help it one of his giggles burst forth, followed shortly by a proper laugh.
"Shit, you're right!"
Lucio shook his head, amused despite himself. "It's not that funny dude."
"Let him have this," Hana told him, a smile tugging at her lips.
Junkrat paced, trying to figure out where to situate himself. He eventually settled for one of the stools, dragging it across the floor with a squeak as he set it where he normally worked. As he sat down, Hana scooted closer, switching workbenches, and Lucio grabbed a chair of his own.
They intended to stick around then? Not that he was complaining, but he still wasn't entirely sure why they were here. Probably would have already heard he was still ticking, and he would have shown up anyway given time... didn't make much sense lurking in the workshop for him to drop by. They never spent much time here.
Lucio might as well have read his mind, because his voice dropped to a more level tone and he leaned just a little closer. "Seriously though," he said, "you should have told us, we had to hear about this from everyone else and then you know, we couldn't even find you... you had us both worried!"
Junkrat set his eyes on his knee. Needed a new coat of paint soon. He let his attention rove across the various scrapes and markes across its orange surface, like he was mapping out the details. "Ain't gotta fret about me."
"It's not about having to, man. We do, alright? And... it's not your fault or anything but it would have been nice to hear something from you before you disappeared."
"Right..." he muttered. Course he'd messed something up again. Wasn't used to having people who needed to know this stuff, who cared enough to want to. Seemed like having people who cared was a whole lot of work he'd never accounted for. There was always something else he was fucking up without even realizing these days.
Lucio continued. "We're not... look, we're not mad at you, just would have liked to see you were alright... you know you can always talk to us?" His expression was earnest, searching Junkrat's own face for some kind of reaction.
Junkrat shrugged. "Ya keep tellin' me so."
"Because it's the truth," Lucio said with more force, "don't ever doubt it."
He shifted, chancing a glance up to take in both of them. "I hear ya."
Lucio smiled, and Junkrat found himself grinning back without meaning to. How Lucio was able to do that Junkrat didn't know, the guy's smile was just infectious, like bloody magic.
"Good," the DJ said. "Just wanna be sure we're clear on that."
"But more importantly than all that, ugh, this is gonna keep bugging me..." Hana broke in, "you know your hair normally sticks up, right? Well now it's just sort of clumped to one side and it's all wrong..."
Junkrat lifted a hand to investigate. She was probably right, and the salt had left it stiff and the texture felt strange. Taking a nap in a dark corner probably hadn't done it any favours. "Yeah dunno what to do 'bout that, probably fix itself, normally does."
"Do you mind if I have a go?"
He hesitated. He was pretty sure he knew what the right answer was, and he was also pretty sure it was safe, but still a nagging doubt hovered somewhere in the back of his mind.
But Hana just sat there, patient, smiling, nothing forceful or demanding in her posture or voice. Kind of made him feel stupid for the whole thing. "Go on then," he said as if it were the most casual thing in the world, "do ya worst."
"Promise not to pull." She gave him a reassuring wink, shuffling closer until she could reach, and Junkrat focused on ignoring the prickling sensation at the back of his neck that begged him to keep her in his sights, because he knew it was just Hana and whatever his instincts said she wasn't about to hurt him. He repeated that to himself firmly as he bowed his head to make it easier for her. Sitting on one of the workbenches gave her a good vantage point but it only did so much when compared to his height.
Despite any lingering misgivings, Hana proved surprisingly gentle. There was a delicacy to her touch, as if she worried anything more rough might scare him off. But she needn't have worried, Junkrat remained where he was, even if he couldn't help but fidget. His hands managed to pluck one of his empty grenade shells from the workbench, drawing it back to his lap where he could turn it round and round as his foot bounced lightly on the rung of the stool.
Lucio watched the whole thing with open curiosity. "So, uh, Rat... gonna make me feel weird bringing it up now but, like... don't you normally not like people touching you?"
Hana's hands paused for a second, but quickly went back to teasing his hair into some kind of order, and Junkrat let himself dwell on the question.
"Depends. It ain't... it ain't that I'm opposed to the idea, I just... ain't accustomed to it?"
How could he explain that in all his experience, finding yourself trapped in someone else's grip was never a good thing? That a sudden grasp or touch did more to spark his adrenaline than comfort him? Physical affection was still a fairly new concept to him. It had taken him a while to understand that every time Hog reached a hand out to him it wasn't just to slap him round the head for being a nuisance. That there were other gestures, kinder ones, that could be given. Sometimes it felt like Roadhog was only just remembering too, but in some ways that made Junkrat feel better, like he wasn't the only one stitching things together.
"Look, man, if it isn't your thing that's okay... you don't have to try to be like us, it's cool," Lucio assured him. "We know you have-"
Junkrat let out a frustrated noise, irritated again that he seemed unable to express what he wanted. The truth was... the truth was that he kind of liked the idea that people might want to touch him because they cared about him, even if he wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond. It was... it was unfamiliar, but at the same time it filled him with a strange feeling of hope. He wanted to belong. He wanted people to feel comfortable around him, to want him there. It just... didn't come naturally.
Outback life had been rough. You could laugh and grin and joke your way through, but at the end of it you had to watch every move another Junker made, cos there was always the possibility they'd decided you had something they wanted and were looking for the one moment you let your guard slip. Junkrat didn't think he'd ever be able to stop watching people with his flickering gaze, like the nervous attention of a small rodent. It was wired too deeply into him.
If he had time to process things though... to read a gesture for what it truly meant rather than some form of attack, to register the harmlessness of it, then he could manage. He'd been getting better at it. But Junkrat was still loud, and twitchy, and quick to snap when things didn't look right, and those were all the things that people didn't like, cos they weren't used to folk that acted like that... They saw it as a warning... kept clear...
That was ideal for the outback. Less so here.
But Lucio and Hana hadn't backed away, and it was encouraging in some ways that they kind of... gave him that. Let him wrestle with himself, gave him the chance to pull back or tentatively accept whatever they offered, but always left an exit, always an escape.
He shook his head, Hana letting go of his hair at the suddenness of the motion. "Nah... told ya already, I ain't opposed to the idea. Just takes some getting used to. Don't take well to surprises, so warn me first, yeah?"
He grinned in what he hoped was an encouraging fashion. He didn't want them to withdraw. Didn't want to spend the rest of his time kicking himself just cos he couldn't explain quite what he felt - a wariness and uncertainty that warred against excitement that spoke too loudly of the optimistic, stupidly sentimental side of himself he didn't have the strength to stamp out.
His metal fingers drummed against the hard shell in his grasp, his orange eyes carefully checking them both for a reaction.
Lucio regarded him skeptically. "...alright, if you're sure."
"Course I am."
He stilled a little, and Hana's fingers slowly found their place, making a few final adjustments.
"I think I'm done," she said, shifting back to admire her work, "what do you think Lu? How's it looking?"
"Looking good," Lucio said, thumbs up in approval.
"Well, good as it's gonna be until you take a shower," Hana conceded, brushing her hands off on her shorts as she shuffled a respectable distance back, "The seawater around here is so gross."
"Not the worst thing I've been covered in," Junkrat said.
"I don't doubt it, but still, ew."
He shot her a grin, reaching up to feel his hair.
"Don't you dare mess it up," she warned him with mock seriousness, waggling her finger. Junkrat just stuck out his tongue.
"So, were you planning anything in here?" Lucio asked. "More bombs and things?"
"Eh, had a few projects in the works, but was just meanin' to build some of the basics for now. Ya wanna see the fun stuff? Or... or I guess since it ain't nothin' complicated ya could lend me a hand with a few frags or mines," he said falteringly. "If ya want, that is. Would show ya what needs doin', perfectly safe... mostly safe."
"Think we've got different definitions of that word," Lucio said wryly. "You know, I've been wondering though... you still working on fireworks? I remember you were going on about them a while ago but then I guess stuff happened..."
"Right, stuff..." Junkrat muttered, eyebrows knitting into a scowl. He'd forgotten. He didn't want to admit it but fireworks had been the farthest thing from his mind for a long time. But he remembered the spark of excitement he'd felt at the concept, and for a while how the idea had been bright and enticing, filled with images of wild flares of colours and the crack of explosions tearing through the night sky.
He'd wanted to build them. Not cos they were dangerous, or a weapon he could arm himself with, but because they were new and he wanted to see if he could... wanted everyone else to see as well, cos fireworks were somehow acceptable in a way his normal creations weren't, and he knew he'd build the biggest and most spectacular ones they'd ever seen.
That dream had faded as things spiraled out of his control, a fancy his brain hadn't bothered to hang on to and he'd lost until they'd brought it back to him.
"Rat? You still here?"
He started at Hana's voice, blinking back to the present.
"Yeah. Look, ya really interested in the fireworks?" he asked, leaning back against the workbench and scratching at the side of his face absently.
"I guess?" Lucio said, glancing at Hana, who nodded. "Just sounded like fun, you know?"
Junkrat swung himself off his stool, landing with a creak of shock absorbers as he sprang up and marched his way across to where he piled most of his supplies. It was a little chaotic, but he tried to label the important stuff with his usual chicken scratch, and keep the rest divided into piles of 'not dangerous' and 'possibly dangerous'.
He rummaged through them, muttering to himself as he tossed the unimportant stuff aside.
To his delight he found what he wanted. Potassium nitrate... sulfur... copper oxide for blues, strontium chloride for red, calcium nitrate for yellow... he must have got the supplies at some point, or Roadhog had, didn't really matter. They were there, and with a grin he turned to present his findings.
"Looks like we're in business," he declared.
"You mean-"
"Mean I have everythin' we need, mate. Ya want fireworks then it's happenin'. I'll do it now, right now so I ain't forgettin', the both of you can watch me an' all!" The words ran together in one long stream, an energy possessing him that he hadn't expected.
There was more to it than that though. There was a tension in his body as he waited for their response, a desperation in his smile, cos the longer he waited the more the idea shook him that maybe he'd been wrong... that maybe they wouldn't return his enthusiasm, and the fireworks would lose their magic and he'd sit back down and worry about making supplies to destroy whatever threatened him. Back to necessity, to old habits and fears. That somehow the dream would die again and would slip his memory without anyone to nudge it back.
But Lucio's smile slowly grew.
"Oooh, can I help?" Hana asked, clasping her hands together. She teetered forward as if proximity was somehow going to help persuade him, almost falling off the workbench in the process.
"Sure," Junkrat offered. "So long as ya listen."
She turned to Lucio. "Come on Lu, build fireworks with us! I bet you can even make a green one."
"Oh I am so down for this," the DJ muttered, but still he paused a moment before addressing Junkrat in a louder voice. "Just to be clear, you do actually know what you're doing, right?"
Junkrat gave him a haughty look, peering down his nose at him as if he were gravely offended. Maybe he should be, but it didn't sting. Not that that ever stopped him putting on a show. "I'm a demolitions expert, mate, those ain't just pretty words. I know my way around this kinda thing, even if it ain't my speciality."
That seemed to be all he needed to hear, since the DJ hopped down from his own stool. "Alright then, let's do this! But yeah, also like... take it slow too since we don't want any accidents. I trust you, but I have no idea what this stuff does."
"I ain't gonna let anything happen to ya," Junkrat assured him. And he meant it.
They ended up settled on the ground since they could sit in a circle around the various materials they needed and Junkrat could watch their movements critically, but there was something more relaxed about it too that he enjoyed. It just felt right.
But somewhere, in the back of his mind, two words were making a connection, and a spark of an idea was beginning to form.
Accidents... fireworks...
Accidents happened with fireworks. Convenient accidents perhaps? Could he find a way to make that happen?
But as he froze for a second hovering on the edge of something, he found that right now... right in that moment it didn't matter. Because honestly he just wanted to sit down and build fireworks with his friends, and babble about what made things explode and love the way they laughed or poked fun at one another... and for now, that was enough.
((Lucio and Hana continue to accidentally give Junkrat bad ideas... Anyway, for those of you who don't know, I've done a Soldier oneshot of some of this story from his perspective if you want to go check it out. Wouldn't have happened without your suggestion!))
