::Author's Note - I'd like to make a note to everyone reading this whole thing all at once that everything before this chapter was written well before the official Junkertown content came out, particularly the "Wasted Land" comic. I'm well aware that the way Junkrat and Roadhog met in this story, while surprisingly close to canon, is not correct. I have no plans on revising it to match canon. You may consider this an alternate history if you wish.
In addition to my usual apology for the long delay, I would also like to apologize for the awkward transition midway through this chapter, as I'd fallen into hiatus halfway through writing it and didn't know a good way to wrap up that scene after so long away.::
"Y'know, ain't often I decide ta take someone out without explosives, but what you did hit close ta home… 'bout as close as I'm fuckin' about ta hit you!"
Symmetra let out a yelp as Junkrat lunged at her once again with that knife of his. She tried as best she could to scramble backwards from where she lay on the floor, but her back soon hit a wall. Cornered and with nowhere to go, she was reduced to little more defense than shielding her face with her arms and snapping her eyes shut. The only thing she could do now was brace for the inevitable impact of the madman's blade.
"Satya? Satya, can you hear me? Are you alright?"
The familiar voice was enough to make Symmetra's heart skip a beat. That was Janesh's voice! Had he managed to reestablish communications? Could he have weeded out the virus that Junkrat had infected the system with? She decided it was worth taking the chance to open her eyes and see for herself.
Much to her surprise, what she saw before her was not the rotting interior of Junkrat's warped Utopaea apartment, but clean, sterile walls of the simulation room at Vishkar Corp. She watched as Janesh rushed around his control station and onto the simulation pad, kneeling down and placing a stabilizing hand on her shoulder to help her sit up.
"What happened? Did you cut the simulation feed?" she asked, though, despite everything that had just happened, she couldn't hide the note of disappointment in her voice. To cut the simulation entirely was to sacrifice the connection with their subject's brain. Though the mission was clearly unsalvageable, admitting failure never felt good. Janesh, however, shook his head in response.
"It wasn't me. The simulation cut out due to disconnection on the other end. The nano-machines in the subject's brain aren't responding anymore. They must have found some way to destroy them."
Symmetra furrowed her brow in thought. Could it have been that nurse, the one that was working with Overwatch? She wouldn't have guessed that woman would have been capable of detecting their nano-machines, much less destroy them without killing the host. Well, whatever happened, she couldn't help but feel mildly grateful for the timing of it all.
"Y'know, ain't often I decide ta take someone out without explosives, but what you did hit close ta home… 'bout as close as I'm fuckin' about ta hit you!"
Junkrat stared down his prey as she scrambled backward across the floor in a feeble attempt to escape. He continued to stalk after her, knife raised and at the ready. He would make her pay for everything she'd put him through in here. Every memory, every private moment of his past that she had poked her nose into… He would make her pay for each and every one.
He saw his chance when the woman's back hit the wall. He lunged at her, aiming to sink his blade into whatever he could reach first. He let out a feral roar, his rage boiling over to the point of obscuring his vision. The next thing he felt was his hand striking forcefully against flesh.
"Ow! Man, what the hell?!"
Junkrat sat there for a moment – and he was suddenly sitting, which struck him as odd – and blinked his eyes hard several times in an effort to clear his still blurry vision. He could already tell this wasn't the derelict apartment he'd fashioned for himself in the simulation. The room was clean, but not overly sterile like Utopaea had been, and he could hear a faint beeping that seemed to go along perfectly with his own heartbeat. He could feel something strapped over his face, reflecting his hot breath back over his nose and mouth. He raised a hand to try to take whatever it was off, but what greeted him was his feeble, naked stump of an arm.
"Jamie!"
That single, gruffly-spoken word was enough to melt away his lingering rage and newfound confusion. Sure enough, there was Roadhog standing next to the bed he was in, his bulky form leaning over him a bit, eyes searching him over from behind dark lenses to make sure he was okay.
"Mako!" he squeaked out, his voice a bit rough from having not used it for several weeks. Even so, he didn't hesitate to fling his arms around the Junker Enforcer's neck, pulling him into a tight, clingy hug. Roadhog didn't fight it, which was just how Junkrat preferred it right now. His muscles ached and his head was still in a bit of a fog, but he was determined not to let go of the man even if it killed him.
"Are you alright? Come here a moment, it could be broken…"
The sound of a woman's voice speaking in a heavy German accent was enough to avert a fraction of his attention away from his bodyguard, though he still clung to him the same way a baby koala might cling to its mother. He turned his head to peek back over his shoulder at the slight commotion going on behind him on the other side of the bed. Mercy was currently trying to get a rather disgruntled Lúcio to take his hand from over his nose. The reason why became quite clear when he noticed the thin streams of blood leaking down his arm.
"Oi, what happened ta you?" Junkrat asked casually. Lúcio turned towards him with the closest thing to a scowl he could manage, his hand still clamped tightly over the middle of his face.
"Ya punched me in the damn face, man!"
"Oh. Shouldn'ta been in the way of my fist then, should ya?"
This rather flippant response left the poor DJ grasping for some way to retort, but nothing came to him, leaving him with his mouth agape with inarticulate noises escaping in place of any argument. Mercy took that opportunity to step in and offer an explanation for everything.
"Jamison, Lúcio's the one who woke you up from your coma. The Vishkar Corporation infected you with some sort of nano-machines that kept you unconscious. That's what was in that dart you were shot with. Since his sonic amplifier is based on similar technology, he—"
"Okay, yeah, I lost ya at nano-whatever. Look ya got any grub? I feel like I ain't eaten in weeks!"
The following week saw things rapidly fall back into some semblance of normalcy – or, at least as normal as life around two Junkers could be, anyway. Roadhog was seen out and about a little more, especially after Junkrat was able to get up and about again. Strictly speaking, he wasn't supposed to be just yet. Mercy had wanted him to stay in bed for the most part, but trying to argue with the restless madman was an impossible task. Not even the lack of his peg leg deterred him from defying doctor's orders. He simply hobbled a little slower than usual with the aid of a crutch.
Of course, even that would soon cease to be an obstacle, as the repair of the broken prosthetic had just been completed. Roadhog had somehow managed to convince Junkrat to wait in their room while he went to retrieve it from Torbjörn, despite his employer insisting that the dwarf couldn't have rebuilt it to his satisfaction. The Enforcer held no such doubts, and thus found himself lumbering down the hall towards the engineer's workshop.
Torbjörn was busy pouring over some collection of parts that Roadhog wasn't terribly familiar with when he walked in. There was no need to announce his presence, as one could hear his heavy footsteps from a mile away. The diminutive man looked up from his work as the large Junker approached.
"I know, I know… Yer mouthy little friend is wondering what's taking his leg so long, isn't he?" Torbjörn preempted, hopping down from his stool to go digging under his workbench without anything in the way of prompting. He soon straightened up once more, clutching an amalgamate of parts that could have passed for Junkrat's own handiwork if it hadn't been so free of dirt and rust. He handed over the prosthetic leg for Roadhog to inspect.
"I kept it all the same, just like he wanted. All I did was recast the parts in less brittle metal. That thing should last a lot longer than his old one," he explained, puffing out his chest with pride at his work. "Actually – and don't you go tellin' anyone I said this – that design of his is pretty good, considering what he had to work with. It's a shame, really. If he'd have grown up anywhere else, he might've become one hell of an engineer. A bit of a waste of talent, if ya ask me."
Roadhog merely gave a noncommittal grunt in response. Normally, he might have reacted a little more threateningly towards someone who spoke about Junkrat's upbringing like that – or lack thereof, as the case may be – but he liked Torbjörn. He reminded him of a friend he used to have. Because of that, he merely mumbled his thanks and left the man to his work.
When Roadhog returned to his room, he found it mercifully quieter than he expected. After a split second of mild panic that something might have happened to Junkrat, he was relieved to find that his companion was sprawled out across the bed, snoring lightly and fidgeting every now and then. The slender Junker probably wouldn't have admitted it, but trying to wander around with just one leg and a crutch clearly exhausted the hell out of him. This would probably be Roadhog's last chance to get a decent night's sleep, now that he'd have his peg leg back.
The Enforcer set the leg aside on one of the dressers before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He was about to reach up to remove his mask for the night when a burst of static had him jumping back up to his feet. He whipped around to stare at a wall-mounted video screen, the sudden static on which settled down to reveal a familiar skull-shaped logo.
'¡Hola!' came a familiar female voice through the speakers. Despite instantly knowing who it was that spoke to him, Roadhog didn't dare relax. The two of them had worked with this hacker before – most notably when they broke into the bank in Dorado – but that didn't make her particularly trustworthy. She, like most in her profession, worked for the highest bidder. They weren't in that category right now.
"What do you want, Sombra?" Roadhog rumbled out in a low voice, not wanting to wake his employer just yet.
'Tsk, c'mon! Is that how you talk to an old friend?' the hacker teased lightly, though she got no response beyond a low growl. "Alright, fine… I know you're not much of a talker, so I'll make this quick. You know how Vishkar have been poking around your friend's head looking for info? Well, they weren't the only ones watching. They're systems aren't as secure as they'd like to think. I gotta say, it was a good show."
Roadhog could do little more than let his fists ball up at his side. If he didn't know Sombra was hundreds, if not thousands of miles away, he'd have hunted her down and wrung her neck. As it stood, all he could do was listen.
'Anyway, Talon wanted me to track down your location while all that was going down. So, I did. Now they know where you are, so you might want to think about getting out of there. The sooner, the better.'
"Why would you tell us that?" he asked, suddenly even more suspicious than before. For all he knew, this was just a trick to smoke them out. Sombra let out a small chuckle.
'Well, I'd like to say it's because I was flattered that Junkrat used one of my QR code viruses to escape the simulation – which I'm impressed he actually memorized, by the way – but we both know I'm not the sentimental type. If you really want to know, it's because someone else payed me to give you guys a heads up.'
"Who the hell would do that?" he asked, unsure if he was more confused or unbelieving at the notion that someone out there would actually want to protect the two of them out of the kindness of their hearts. Junkrat and Roadhog weren't exactly known for making good impressions on people, after all.
'Sorry, you know I don't reveal client information – well, not without a price, anyway. All I can say is my client also wanted me to give you another warning; the next time Talon and Vishkar comes for you, they're coming with back-up. They were apparently seen asking your old employer for help bringing you two in.'
Roadhog's eyes widened behind his mask when he heard that last bit. His old employer? She couldn't mean… Not the Queen! Sure, he didn't leave the Enforcers on the best of terms with her, but surely she wouldn't risk coming halfway around the world only to hand the two over to Talon. She had more pride than that. Besides, she'd want first crack at Junkrat, and that probably wouldn't sit well with Vishkar. Of course, if the reward was high enough…
'Look, I wish I could do more, I really do, but that's all I was payed to give you. Good luck. I can't wait to see where this goes. I'm sure you'll make this one hell of a show.'
With that, the screen flicked off, and Roadhog was left in near darkness. He stood there for a long moment, letting everything he'd just learned sink in. Talon knew where they were. What's more, they knew they were currently under Overwatch's protection, meaning this whole thing had put their unlikely protectors in danger as well. He scoffed to himself at that thought. What did he care if these so-called 'heroes' burned in their wake? They deserved what they got, just like the rest of the world. Of course, there were a few exceptions. That doctor who'd so vigilantly tended to Junkrat since the moment they'd arrived, and that little engineer… They were good people, as far as he was concerned.
But there was nothing to be done about it. His primary concern was Junkrat's safety, and if ensuring that meant leaving Overwatch holding the bag when Talon and the Queen's forces came knocking, then so be it. That only left him with figuring out a place to run to. Luckily, he had an insane, brilliant man to borrow ideas from.
"Hey…" he grunted out, reaching over a massive hand to shake his companion awake. Junkrat gave a startled yelp, instantly scrambling up to something of a sitting position, his eyes darting around the room on high alert. Eventually, he determined that there was no immediate danger and gazed up at his bodyguard for an explanation.
"We gotta go," was all the explanation he got, but it was also the only one he needed. He snatched his prosthetics off the dresser and immediately went to work readying himself for one of their infamous last-minute getaways.
Tracer let out a big yawn as she wandered her way out of her room, clad only in an oversized Pachimari t-shirt that hung like a nightgown over her lanky form. She attempted to rub the sleep out of her eyes as she padded her way barefoot towards the kitchen. She could tell it was some ungodly hour of night, but her time-displaced body had felt the need to wake her anyway. Perhaps she should have Winston take a look at her chronal accelerator in the morning to see if he could fix that.
She was about to turn into the kitchen when a distant sound distracted her. It sounded like heavy footsteps, the rattling of chains, and the occasional creak and bang of metal. She quirked an eyebrow. That could only be Roadhog, but what was he doing up at this hour? He'd usually be in his room to guard Junkrat as he slept.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she flicked down the hall towards where the commotion was coming from. She soon found herself in the hangar, where Roadhog was busy loading some supplies into the sidecar of his motorcycle. The Enforcer had insisted someone go retrieve the old chopper from where he'd stashed it in Shanghai, and no one was in the mood to convince him to abandon the vehicle, so they did. The argument had been that letting him keep the thing would give him something to distract himself from any violent outlets, but right now it looked as though he was planning a getaway with it.
Another glance around seemed to confirm that theory. Junkrat was currently over by the hangar doors, working quickly to connect an array of explosives to a single detonator. He was apparently in too much of a rush to figure out how to unlock the thing – or, more likely, he didn't care to – and was planning on blowing the whole thing to scrap to get out.
"Oi! What do you think you're doing?!"
The sudden intrusion was enough to make both of the Junkers stop what they were doing and turn to stare at her. Junkrat flashed her a manic grin, a burst of nervous laughter bubbling out of him.
"Sorry, Sheila. It's been a blast, but it's about time we hit the road!"
"B-but… What about Vishkar? And Talon? Aren't they still after you? I thought you wanted to be here! You know, so we could protect you from them!" she tried to reason, but their reply wasn't in the form of logical debate. The next thing she knew, she had a large metal hook around her waist and was soon yanked through the air and into the death grip of Roadhog. She didn't have any time to struggle before she saw a massive fist raised above her head, aiming to strike her clean in the face.
"Not your problem anymore," was the only explanation she was offered before a sledgehammer-like blow turned her world to darkness.