There were few times in Roadhog's life when he'd felt absolutely helpless. It was quite a hard thing to accomplish, given the fact that he could probably kill just about anyone and anything that got in his way with his bare hands. Of course, he'd long since realized that those rare few things that managed to take this monstrous man down to his knees, managed to make him feel like an utter failure, never seemed to involve something tangible that he could rip violently limb from limb. No, the one thing he'd never been able to deal with properly was loss.

It was that dreaded chill of loss that he felt creeping under his skin now as he stood off to the side in the Overwatch medical bay. Mercy hadn't asked him to leave when she started treating Junkrat. She was a smart woman. She knew better. He watched in tense silence as she flitted around the hospital bed, connecting monitors, checking readings, drawing blood. He knew that, were his charge conscious, he'd be throwing a category five fit over it all. He never did like needles.

Today, however, Junkrat was deathly silent. As much as Roadhog had always complained of his loud mouth, he was never so worried for his employer as when he was quiet. He couldn't help but stare at the scrawny form there on the gurney, lying still as a corpse, his prosthetic limbs removed and stashed off to the side. That was another unnerving sight. Junkrat was never so still. Never. He was always moving in some way, always bouncing about, pacing, fiddling with something in his hands. Even when he slept he was always twitching, twisting about, kicking… much to his reluctant bedmate's chagrin. Of course, though the constant nocturnal thrashing was annoying, it at least assured the Junker Enforcer that his charge was still alive. The only hint he had now were the constant beeps of the heart monitor mounted at the head of the bed and the slight fogging of the oxygen mask from Junkrat's painfully slow, shallow breaths.

"Look, Jack, I dunno what the hell yer expectin' me to say! We were in the middle of Bumfuck, Arizona! How in the hell were we supposed ta know a fuckin' sniper was gonna find us out in the middle of nowhere like that?!"

The sudden commotion outside the medical bay came to an end when the door slid open. Roadhog barely caught sight of a rather disgruntled-looking McCree as Soldier 76 marched past into the ward, the door sliding shut behind him. The commander didn't advance much further in, but whether it was to stay out of Mercy's way or to keep a healthy distance away from Roadhog in case he went off was a mystery.

"How's he doing?" he asked in his usual gruff manner, though a slight note of genuine concern managed to leak through. Mercy never turned back to look at him as she gave her assessment, continuing her diligent work with her new patient.

"The good news is he's stable, at the very least. Whatever he was injected with doesn't seem to be poison, or his condition would have worsened by now. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to wake him. I'd say he's in a deep coma, but I haven't found anything wrong with his brain that would cause it. No swelling, no bleeding, no trauma… I'll run some more tests and try to get a closer look at what's left in that dart, but that's all I can say for now."

Soldier 76's gaze shifted over towards Roadhog during the explanation, as though trying to gauge the giant's reaction to the news. If it had hit him at all, any evidence was hidden behind that dark gasmask of his. He sighed to himself before giving a nod of his head.

"Keep up the good work, Angela. Let me know if anything changes." And with that, he left Mercy to her work and Roadhog to his thoughts.

Symmetra could already feel the unease building up inside her as she made her way down the familiar halls of Vishkar Corporation's Research and Development wing. She'd already been given a brief rundown of what she was expected to do, and while the feat itself would be the marvel of the scientific community if ever it was revealed, the subject chosen for this little trial run was certainly less than ideal in her view. She'd normally be proud of her involvement in such an historic undertaking, but when it involved that absolute filthy vagabond… She'd almost be just as happy to have no part in it.

Her footsteps didn't falter in the slightest as she approached what appeared to be a solid wall. It flickered away into nothingness once she got close enough, and she continued on through. The room she now found herself in was considerably darker than the rest of the building, lit only by the glow of computer monitors. In the center of the room was a large, circular space, dim holograms spinning idly on the floor there. She glanced over towards one of the computer stations, where sat one of the few technicians she was familiar with.

"Is everything ready, Janesh?"

Janesh, a likeable enough man in his mid-thirties, looked up from his controls with a greeting smile.

"Everything's green across the board. All nanomachines are in place and reporting back with a 98% synchronization to all sensory centers of the subject's brain. We've already begun streaming the simulation and the feedback is remarkably positive. All we need now is to get you in there."

Symmetra's nose wrinkled up in distaste slightly at that last bit. To think that she would have to slog through this crazed madman's mind to find where he'd hidden his bloody treasure… The thought alone was enough to make her skin crawl. She sincerely hoped that the feedback on her end would be limited to visual and audio data only.

"Is the connection secure? There's no way for Overwatch to trace the signal?" she asked, almost hoping for a practical excuse to abort the mission. Unfortunately, Janesh responded with a thumbs up.

"I'd go so far as to say it's the most secure connection in the world. We've routed it through just about every server and satellite in existence, and we've got it broadcasting to hundreds of dummy locations. Of course, Vishkar's the only one that has the equipment to decipher it, but they won't know that. Unfortunately, that means we can't trace their location either, but the only people here that'd care about that are those Talon hooligans. You do your job right and we won't have to deal with any of them anymore."

Symmetra couldn't help but let out a small sigh to herself. Looks like there was no backing out of it now. She held her head high as she stepped forward into the center of the room. The holograms slowly rotating below the glass-like surface of the floor lit up brightly and increased in speed. Within seconds the architect found herself engulfed in a blinding light. After a moment, the light coalesced into shapes and colors until she found herself standing somewhere completely different.

At first, the only thing that clearly registered in Junkrat's mind was utter confusion. Just a moment ago, he'd been happily shooting off explosions over the Grand Canyon with a bunch of other drunk blokes, but now? Now he'd suddenly found himself sitting in a room he was positive he'd never seen before. Everything was clean and proper, the sleek white walls almost completely hidden by book cases filled to the brim with some of the thickest books he'd ever seen. Before him was a desk, on which lay a few more gigantic tomes with overly-scientific titles, a touchscreen computer built into the desk's surface, and a small knick-knack displaying some abstract hologram design into the air above it.

He was so baffled by his immediate surroundings that it took him a moment to realize that, aside from looking nothing like the Arizona desert, everything looked… off. It was all sharper than it should have been, more clear and in focus. It was about at that moment that he registered a slight weight on the bridge of his nose. He reached up with his flesh hand to remove the weight, and came away holding a pair of round-lensed glasses.

"What the fuck..?" he mumbled to himself, his bushy eyebrows knitting together in utter bewilderment. Since when did he ever wear glasses? Those were for Suits and… and normal people! No self-respecting Junker would be caught dead in a pair! He tossed the things to the surface of the desk, letting out a small huff of disappointment when the fragile-looking things didn't break. Now that the world was at the proper lever of slight-blurriness, he took another look around. As he spun his chair around to look behind him, the opaque wall suddenly turned transparent in response. He let out a yelp of surprise, not only at the sudden shift, but at what it revealed.

Beyond the wall-turned-window there sprawled a sparkling city of light, all white and hard-light constructs. Hovercrafts of all sizes zoomed through the air at such speed and volume that it was a wonder how they didn't collide in mid-air. The thought of the explosion that would make was only a mild consolation, as he then remembered that he'd seen this city before. Not in person, of course. He'd never purposefully go to such a disgustingly sterile city willingly. It was on some of the advertisements he'd seen in his travels outside Australia. This was Utopaea.

"What the fu—" he repeated again to himself, but the sentiment was cut off as he grabbed at his hair with both hands in mild distress. His hair felt different. It wasn't hot and smoldering. It wasn't greasy. Most noticeable, however, was the distinct lack of bald patches. His hair was full and laid down against the back of his neck. It may have even been combed before he'd gotten his hands on it.

His attention soon left his hair when another strange sensation made itself apparent. Not only could he feel the soft texture of his hair with his left hand, but with his right as well. He lowered both of them shakily, his heart starting to pound in his chest as he looked down at them. They were both there. Both of them, flesh and bone. He frantically grabbed at his right forearm, as though unsure what hid beneath the white sleeve covering it. It was all there. No rusty metal, no scavenged components. It was his arm. He could feel it. He could actually fucking feel it!

In what almost amounted to a panic, Junkrat leaned over and looked down at his legs. He could see no flesh beyond the horrible soft material of the trousers he found himself wearing, but he could already tell something was off. The way the fabric laid over his right leg… It neither had the bulk of his artificial knee joint, nor the thin rail of his peg-leg. He reached down with considerable hesitation, slowly rolling up his pant leg. He was greeted by a limb covered in pale skin and a thin coat of golden fuzz. He ran a trembling hand along it, drawing in a sharp gasp when he felt the action not only with his hand, but with the leg it touched. The leg he hadn't had since he was a child.

"Wh-what the…" he whispered weakly to himself, tears gathering in his eyes despite himself. He could hardly remember a time when he was whole like this. Hell, he could hardly remember a time before he'd hired Roadhog as his bodyguard at this point…

This last thought had him standing bolt upright so fast that he'd nearly fallen flat on his face. He swung his arms out at his sides to try to maintain his balance, his hunched posture not helping much in that regard. It had been so long since he'd had an actual leg on his right side that he'd nearly forgotten how to walk with one. Not having to throw his weight forward to get that peg-leg in front of him was going to take some getting used to. He soon found some semblance of balance and slowly shambled his way around the desk and towards the door.

"Hoggie! Hoggie! Oi, come out here! Ya gotta see this shit, mate!" he called out, trying to ignore how the spacious room reflected back the note of slight desperation in his voice. Roadhog had to be here. He just had to! He wouldn't go anywhere without that big lug! He couldn't imagine ever leaving his side, even in this crazy, mixed up place where long-lost limbs suddenly found their way back onto his body. Of course, the distinct lack of a large, looming presence in the room was enough to get him to panic slightly. Even so, he simply couldn't let himself believe that he was alone. Roadhog was just… Standing guard outside the room. Yeah! That was it! That had to be it! He grasped at the door handle the instant it was within reach, wrenching it open and flinging himself out into the hall.

"Roadho—gahh!" His calls were cut off when he nearly crashed headlong into someone in the hallway. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't a giant Australian man he'd almost crashed into, but a petite Indian woman. She blinked up at him from behind an orange visor, taking a step back from the lanky man who'd nearly run her over.

"Err… Dr. Fawkes, I see you are feeling better." She commented sardonically, arching a thin eyebrow at his slightly disheveled appearance and erratic behavior. The way she addressed him made Junkrat instantly stare down at the woman in utter confusion, his mouth hanging open uselessly for a moment. This woman's face looked vaguely familiar to him, though he couldn't quite place it. Her dark hair was pulled back into a large bun at the back of her head, and she wore a uniform that was predominantly white and grey with a splash of royal blue here and there. A company ID hung from her neck, but the text was too blurry for him to make out from there – at least not without those damned glasses. All he could really make out was a prominent logo; a blue 'V' with a diamond above it.

"H-hold on a tic… What'd ya jus' call me? Who the bloody hell are ya?" he asked finally, his panicked eyes still staring down wildly at the woman even as she remained perfectly calm. She cleared her throat slightly and folded her hands neatly behind her back.

"Perhaps you are still recovering, then… I am Dr. Satya Vaswani. We are colleagues working at Vishkar Corporation, don't you remember? I'd come by to check on you, and it seems I had good reason to. Now then, Doctor, why don't we get you back into your apartment for now?"

Dr. Vaswani then hooked her arm around his, gently leading him back through the door he'd just burst out through a moment ago. He was far too stunned – and far too unbalanced still – to resist her tugging, and simply followed limply behind. She led him through to a living room area, sitting him down on the couch before heading off to the adjoining kitchen to make a pot of tea. Junkrat had to shake the fog of confusion from his head before he could resume his questioning.

"Hold on, hold on… 'Doctor?' Ya sure ya ain't got the wrong bloke here?"

"After working with you for three years? I'm quite sure. You are Dr. Jamison Fawkes, lead chemist in Vishkar's Research and Development department." She replied casually, as though this was a conversation she'd had to have quite often with him as of late. "You've become quite forgetful since your accident. I suppose that's not too surprising. You took quite a blow to the head in the crash. Speaking of which, have you remembered to take your medicine? I doubt it, since you can't even manage to remember your own name."

As Dr. Vaswani returned to the living room with two mugs of tea in hand, Junkrat rose to his feet in as dignified a manner as he could manage, pointing an accusatory finger her way.

"Alroight, you listen here, Sheila—!"

"Satya."

"Whatever!" he shrieked impatiently. "I'm startin' ta think that one of us has got a few screws loose here, and for once it ain't me! Now you're gonna tell me exactly what's goin' on, or I'm gonna—! I'm gonna—!"

Dr. Vaswani merely stared unimpressed over the edge of her mug as Junkrat frantically started searching his person for something explosive to threaten her with. The more he patted himself down, the more he came to realize that he was unarmed. Completely unarmed. He didn't even have the secret compartments of his prosthetics as a back-up. His eyes widened in panic. Though he was probably wearing more clothes than he'd ever had on before, he'd never felt as naked as he did then. He let out a nervous burst of shaky giggles, glancing back at the woman sitting across from him.

"Why not have some tea, Dr. Fawkes? Perhaps it'll help calm your nerves." She responded as calmly as ever, sipping idly at her own tea. Junkrat slowly sat down once more, staring down at the mug of tea that had been set on the coffee table in front of him. He didn't want it. Hell, he wanted nothing more than to chuck the bloody thing across the room and turn this perfectly tidy little apartment into an utter hellzone just to make himself feel better. For now, he reined himself in, behaving himself just long enough to as one more crucial question.

"Where's Roadhog..?" he squeaked out in barely more than a whisper. Dr. Vaswani arched a brow once more at the question.

"What is a 'Roadhog?' Another one of your strange Australian animals that you're always on about?" she asked curtly, which made Junkrat's hands ball up into fists where they rested against his knees.

"Mako. Mako Rutledge." He growled through gritted teeth, hazel eyes blazing dangerously as he glared her way. He hated giving out Roadhog's real name like that. It felt dirty, it felt too personal. However, this woman only referred to him by his real name, so maybe they didn't deal in nicknames here in this fucked up world he'd found himself in. "Tell me where the fuck he is right now."

Finally, Dr. Vaswani set down her mug, though the baffled look on her face didn't dissipate.

"I'm sorry, but… I'm not sure there's anyone in this city by that name. Is he important at all?" she replied after a moment of thought. She didn't get a verbal reply. Actually, she wasn't sure she got a reply at all. Junkrat merely sat there, his mouth hanging open slightly, his wide eyes staring through her rather than at her. After waiting for several minutes for the man to snap out of his sudden catatonic state, she let out a sigh, gathered her empty mug, and went to wash it in the kitchen sink.

"Well, I see that you've calmed down for the time being. Get some rest, Dr. Fawkes. I'll be back in the morning to check on you once again."

With that, she left. Junkrat barely registered anything she'd said, and he hardly noticed at all when she left. He continued to stare at the spot where she'd sat, his mind too shocked to remember to express his rapidly rising panic on the outside. Roadhog wasn't here. For the first time in years, he was unprotected. For the first time in years, he was alone.