Her first priority is to stem the bleeding before getting him on a stretcher and up to medical.
"Stay still please," Angela snaps, when Junkrat goes to sit up. He winces as he lays back down. "If you move you might injure yourself more."
"Yeah," he says breathlessly, still winded. "M'good at that."
She completes the risk assessment before they're in the elevator and is relieved to find that he isn't bleeding excessively, nor has he sustained any major cuts. When Junkrat is safely in the emergency unit her next step is to check for embedded glass. It looks like there are fragments in his human hand and knee from where he'd moved after impact. Thankfully they're easy to remove, so she rinses the cuts in a mild healing solution and bandages Junkrat properly, satisfied that his lacerations are only epidermal. He lifts his prosthetic arm to look at it when he's sufficiently wrapped up, and Angela can see that while some of the metal has been dented, he can flex his fingers and rotate his wrist normally.
"You seem to have come out of this remarkably well thus far," she says, checking his eyes for dilation. "Tell me, do you often explode yourself several metres into the air and break through reinforced glass windows?"
Junkrat bites his lip.
"Well, I mean-"
"On second thought, I don't want to hear your answer to that."
Angela is even more relieved that he's cognisant enough to laugh at this, the sound a little less wheezy than it was down in the practice range. He doesn't appear to be concussed based on this and his dilation, but laughing makes Junkrat wince again.
"How's your pain?" she asks, still leaning over him to assess the damage.
"Not bad," he says, a vocal shrug. Angela scowls.
"On a scale of one to ten?"
"I dunno, two?" He shifts on the surgical bed and hisses. "Maybe a three?"
Junkrat is grinning up at her but Angela's eyebrows knit together, uncertain if he's playing it down or if his pain threshold is genuinely high. Somehow she wouldn't be surprised if it is.
"It's no trouble for me to give you some pain relief," she says.
"Nah, been through far worse than this," he tells her. "I – ngh - appreciate it though. M'just bruised."
She glances sceptically over his bandaged body. "Okay, let's make sure you haven't broken anything before we jump to conclusions."
Angela wheels him through to get some x-rays done and sends him back to the emergency unit while waiting for the scans to appear on her tablet. She only realises how anxious she's been when the results come through and her entire body loosens with relief. Looks like Junkrat has somehow managed to get away with no broken or fractured bones, either – even his ribs are alright. His metal arm must have taken most of the impact, which is a miracle considering the force of his crash. Junkrat is very lucky to have come out of this so well.
She fixes him with a stern look when she's back in the room but he doesn't pay attention to her. He's still lying flat on the surgical bed, frowning up at his metal arm, and her stern look melts into one of concern.
"Is your arm alright?"
"Seems so," Junkrat says, still frowning at it. "Just needs some TLC I reckon."
"I could take a look for you, if you like."
Angela smiles, allowing herself to be a little playful now that there's no urgent worry. When Junkrat cranes his neck to look at her he narrows his eyes, but he's smiling, too. How does he make it so difficult to stay strictly professional?
"Nice try, doc, but you're not getting your hands on it just yet," he tells her.
"I'll keep the offer open in case you change your mind." She turns to look through her equipment and picks out a fine-toothed comb. "Anyway, you haven't broken or fractured anything, and the cuts are epidermal – nothing too deep or serious. I just need to make sure there're no glass particles in your hair."
Junkrat's eyes widen slightly. "You, uh. Need to comb it?"
"I do indeed," she says. Junkrat seems alarmed by this, which is understandable as his hair has never looked anything other than wild and unbrushed. Angela assures him that she'll be gentle, and when he reluctantly agrees, she combs through it cautiously to sweep away any glass. Though Junkrat's hair is tufty and in patches on his head, there's quite a lot of it, and it's very blond despite the singed tips and discolouration from being unwashed. While combing, Angela keeps an eye on his face. He grimaces whenever she comes to a knot. She's very careful not to tug, but it's quite surprising that Junkrat doesn't seem to be coping with this nearly as well as his actual injuries, eyes squeezed shut like he's anticipating pain.
"You should try to brush your hair once a day," Angela says softly, easing through a particularly stubborn knot.
"S'no point," he says. "It'll only get messy again."
It is becoming overwhelmingly apparent that Junkrat is really not very good at taking care of himself. When she's confident that any lingering glass will have been removed Angela decides to continue brushing anyway, pulling the comb upwards to keep his hair in its usual flame-like style while carefully untangling the knots. Even though she knows he's brought all of this on himself, she can't help feeling a little sorry for him. Perhaps he wouldn't have attempted something so reckless if he hadn't been asked to impress her.
…Okay, so it's far more likely that Junkrat would have attempted something equally reckless regardless of her encouragement. But now that he's here wrapped in bandages and covered in cuts, Angela still feels marginally responsible. She shouldn't have goaded him just because Jack and Winston were there. His performance had been impressive enough.
She jolts out of thought when Junkrat sighs, a quiet and relaxed sound that's somewhat alien coming from him. She'd forgotten she was still brushing his hair, the comb sliding through easily without any knots to get caught on. He seems calmed by it – might even be enjoying having his hair brushed despite his discomfort earlier. Well, if it's helping him, she may as well continue. It's quite soothing for her, too.
"Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to be seeing a lot of you here?" Angela says then, sighing. Junkrat opens his eyes.
"Could do with more practice to be honest." He looks up at her then, upside down where she's leaning over him. "Any other big windows I could try jumping through?"
Junkrat grins like he's trying to needle a smile out of her. Angela hms disapprovingly. While she doesn't want to condone his behaviour, her exasperation with him is involuntarily touched with amusement.
"None that I would recommend," she says. "Certainly none on company property, though I would advise against trying to catapult yourself through windows as a matter of course. I'll have enough paperwork to do from this one."
Junkrat's face immediately falters. "Shit," he mumbles, looking away from her. "M'sorry, doc. Didn't mean to cause all this trouble."
Angela blinks at this unexpected contrition. She wasn't trying to coax an apology out of him – was actually trying to make light of it, like he was. But she believes Junkrat, believes that he didn't do this on purpose, and she's grateful that he's apologised, showing genuine remorse despite his playful banter. She hms again, a softer and less disapproving sound this time.
"I must say, I wasn't expecting you to cover such distance from sheer propulsion alone," she says, still combing slowly through his hair. "But this is what training is for – why we have a practice range. Why I'm here, too, so you can make these mistakes in the safest possible environment."
This seems to lift Junkrat immediately. He grins again, albeit sheepishly.
"Cheers, doc."
Angela does smile at him this time. "I'm starting to lose count of how many times you've thanked me, Junkrat. I'm only doing my job."
"Yeah, I know," he laughs. He looks a little embarrassed, face having gone slightly red, so Angela puts the comb down and perches beside him on the bed. Junkrat pulls himself forwards to sit up. She reaches out when the movement makes him wince again, stopping short of holding his shoulders. She can't force him to stay lying down as he's not seriously injured, just like she can't force him to take any painkillers, but Angela wishes he'd just stay still for a little while and give his body a chance to recover.
"Phew. So, what's the verdict?" Junkrat asks then, puffed out just from sitting up. "Reckon I can leave soon?"
Angela laughs. Is he serious?
"It hasn't even been an hour since we got you up here."
"I know, but. S'not like I broke anything."
"Junkrat, you've just catapulted yourself through a window!"
He pouts at her. "C'mon, doc, I said I was sorry!"
For a second, Angela actually considers letting him leave. The vision that follows is of him barrelling straight back into the practice range and reopening all of his wounds in the process. She shudders, shaking her head.
"Absolutely not," she says, firmly. "I'm going to keep you in overnight."
Junkrat's face falls as though he's just been told he's grounded.
"What?! You're joking!"
"It won't hurt to keep you in for just one evening." Angela stands up, grabbing her tablet to book him in for the night. "I have to be sure you're going to get enough rest to heal properly."
Junkrat's face contorts from absolute disappointment to petulance. He goes to fold his arms across his chest only to hiss from the pain of trying, and Angela smiles pleasantly at him.
"Looks like you've just proven my point."
"Seriously? C'mon, look at me!" he says, throwing his bandaged arms out to draw her attention to his bandaged chest. "I'm fine!"
"You're really not helping your case," she says airily. "Plus, if you do stay, I'll have no choice but to let Jack and Winston know you're not well enough to speak to them today. I'm sure they're keen to have words with you."
Angela quirks her eyebrow at Junkrat like she's challenging him to argue this – to argue this gracious olive branch when she's already spent her afternoon taking care of him. She doesn't feel at all bad for laying on the guilt this time. It's for his own good!
"So, are you happy to stay?" she asks.
"Augh, yes, alright!" Junkrat snaps, surrendering. "But you best tell Roadhog what's going on, don't want the poor bloke worrying!"
"Thank you. Don't worry, I'll make sure he knows."
Angela wheels him into the private ward so he has his own space, explaining that he'll need to try and get some decent rest to ensure his wounds heal as quickly as possible. Junkrat isn't happy about this, but appears to have accepted his fate for the evening and sounds resigned as he agrees to Angela's stipulations. He still doesn't want any pain relief, but she informs the nurse who'll be covering the evening what to give him if he changes his mind. Angela tells him she'll discharge him first thing tomorrow provided he's well enough.
"Gonna go crazy sittin' around here all night," Junkrat grumbles. His eyes dart around the room like he's already feeling twitchy.
"There are plenty of books to read. And a television. And I can bring your phone up from the lockers so you'll have that, too."
She knows this won't be enough for him, but unfortunately keeping Junkrat occupied isn't a priority. A notification pops up on her tablet then, indicating that Winston and Jack have requested a meeting with her. It will definitely be about Junkrat. They're likely on their way up to the ward right now.
"Right, I'd better get going," Angela says. "Make sure you stay hydrated and if you need anything, notify the nurse."
"Alright," Junkrat says, huffily. He sits back in his new bed with a scowl. Angela gets the feeling that he's acting bratty like this because the alternative is more embarrassment and remorse. He's already apologised so there's no point in making him feel worse about it, but she feels even sorrier for him now. Poor Junkrat's going to be more bored having to spend a night in the ward than he was during any of his induction.
Nonetheless, it's genuinely for his own good. Angela bids him a good evening so he can stew in peace, knowing he's probably a bit sick of her company – from having a doctor punish him with a curfew like this.
"Hey, doc – before you go. Can I ask ya something real quick?"
Angela stops at the doorway and turns, surprised by the sudden change in his tone.
"Yes?"
Junkrat straightens up a little. He looks at her hopefully then, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips.
"Were you impressed?"
… Really? He's asking her that? Angela scoffs. If it was anyone else her answer would be an outright and immediate no. It should be with him, too, what with the damage and inconvenience he's caused even taking into account her misjudged encouragement. Somehow, though, she can't quite bring herself to say it. Not when he's looking at her so hopefully and with that little dash of playfulness that's so frustratingly… well, him. She thinks about it for a moment.
"Let's just say I'm… impressed by the effort," Angela says, "but absolutely not by the method."
Junkrat's face lights up. She doesn't linger in the doorway long enough to let him answer back and has to bite her lip around a huge smile as she heads out of the ward. How is it that he can cause all this trouble and still have her smiling by the end of it? Covering for his mistakes, even? God, she must be turning soft after all!
Angela manages to grab Jack and Winston just as they arrive in medical. To her relief they both look concerned rather than irritated – as they should be with one of their newest agents injured, regardless of the reason.
"Is he alright?" Jack asks. She nods.
"He's staying in overnight so we can monitor him, make sure he doesn't have a concussion. It'll give his wounds a chance to heal. I'm confident he'll be in a much better state tomorrow."
"Thank goodness," Winston says. "We've notified facilities and finance already. Should be able to get a new window fitted in no time."
"That's brilliant. Thank you so much for taking care of it for me."
"Of course," Jack says, smiling. "We're just glad you're both alright."
Angela hadn't even thought about herself. "I have your quick reflexes to thank for that," she tells him. "But yes, unfortunately he was the victim of his own overexcitement."
"To say the least," Winston says. His brows are slightly furrowed, making an inkling of dread tug at Angela's stomach. "We'll have to have a word with him when he's up to it."
She knows they have every right to be angry with him for this, but they also don't really know Junkrat, and probably assume he was trying to cause trouble on purpose. Angela knows that isn't the case, but she isn't sure how to explain it in a way that isn't making excuses for him. She would hate for him to have a disciplinary when he's only just joined the team.
"He's certainly paying the price now," she says, trying to find a diplomatic middle ground between condemning and forgiving. "I shouldn't have goaded him, anyway."
Jack shakes his head. "This isn't on you at all, Angela. Don't worry, we'll talk it through with him tomorrow."
"Thanks, Jack."
Satisfied that Junkrat has escaped any chastisement this evening, Angela heads into her office to start on the paperwork that's been generated from the day. She can't be annoyed about it when she knows it was a genuine mistake, and as she'd told him earlier, this is exactly why Angela is here. It's much better for something like this to happen now under her watch than on the field in the middle of a fight. It could've been so much worse…. and at least Junkrat did demonstrate excellent mobility, if she's being truly honest. Not that she can tell anyone that. Especially not him.
The paperwork keeps her in the office late. She's so exhausted by the time she gets home that she just about manages to pick at some salad for dinner before collapsing in bed before nine o'clock. Even the sweltering heat isn't enough to keep Angela awake. It's her first night of decent sleep since the heatwave started, but it also isn't quite enough to compensate for the last week. When she's heading back in to see Junkrat the next morning she's on her second iced coffee and quite frankly ready for this oppressively hot week to be over.
When she reaches the ward she's sort of expecting Roadhog to be here with him, but Junkrat is on his own, sitting up in his bed. Freshly bandaged and wearing a clean shirt, he's considerably smarter than he was yesterday and even looks well rested. He's poking at his metal arm, but glances up the moment Angela knocks against the open doorway. She smiles at the way his eyes brighten when he sees her.
"G'day, doc!"
"Good morning, Junkrat. How're you feeling?"
"Great! Much better!" He pulls off the covers and gets out of bed, eager to demonstrate his wellbeing. "See? Absolutely fine, me - raring to go!"
Angela chuckles, pleased that he gives no indication of being in pain. "Alright, alright. Let's have a look and see if we can get you discharged."
She gets him sat down in her office to do some standard checks – dilation, respiratory and blood pressure – and notices that his face is abnormally clean. He's either had a proper bath or the nurse has wiped over his face this morning. It's odd, but there's a tiny part of Angela that's disappointed by this. She's quite enjoyed their handwipe escapades this week - Junkrat's frustrating yet almost endearing objection to having a bloody wash.
"How's your arm?" she asks him, getting out the equipment.
"Just needed a couple of screws tightening up," he says. "When I'm home I can have a bash at, er. Unbashing it. Y'know, the dents on it."
"That's very good to hear." Angela takes a seat beside him, leaning in to check his pupils for dilation. "Did you sleep well?"
"Was so bored I didn't have much of a choice," Junkrat says. "I did though, slept for bloody hours after Roadie left."
"Oh, he came up to see you?"
Junkrat snorts. "'Course. Any excuse to call me an idiot and he's there."
Angela has to bite her lip to stop herself from chuckling at this, not wanting to be mean. Junkrat folds his arms and sighs like he's in a huff, but he's grinning.
"You best not be laughing at me, Miss Mercy. Not my fault people don't recognise my extremely complex and highly sophisticated combat techniques."
"Oh, certainly not," Angela says. She was feeling pretty miserable this morning but this banter with Junkrat is really cheering her up. "I'm just happy to see that you're alright. You know, following your extremely complex and highly sophisticated trip through the window."
Junkrat squints at her. "That's it, doc. Rub it in. Kick a man while he's down!"
"I'm only teasing you," she says, though his smirk indicates he already knows. Angela stands up then, moving behind him ready to check his lungs. She remembers the last time she asked him to lift his shirt up. Maybe it's just because she's too tired to filter herself, but Angela can't help making a little joke out of it.
"So, are you going to take your shirt off for me?" she asks him, conversationally.
Junkrat sputters.
"Wh- What?!" he says, whipping around to look at her. Angela chuckles as she holds up her stethoscope.
"I'm joking – just need to listen to your lungs."
"Oh! R- Right, sure!" he laughs. She doesn't think she's ever seen anyone go quite so red, quite so quickly. Just as Angela worries it was perhaps too inappropriate of a joke to make, Junkrat tugs his shirt off and puffs out his chest.
"There we go!" he says, chin lifted in pride. "That satisfactory for you, doctor?"
"I didn't actually mean it," Angela laughs. She leans down to press over his back. "It is, though. Thank you."
There's no trace of his petulant attitude from yesterday, but Angela is grateful for Junkrat's good mood. Even though she's enjoying being playful with him it's proving difficult to stifle her yawns, and aside from the caffeine, his chatty cheerfulness is about the only thing keeping her going.
With his dilation and respiratory satisfactory, all that's left is checking his blood pressure and then she'll be able to mark him fit to return to work. Angela is tapping away on her tablet when an email comes through from Winston wanting to confirm Junkrat's condition. She takes a few minutes to write out her response, struggling with formulating the right words, before pulling over the blood pressure reader and fixing the band around Junkrat's bicep.
"You alright, doc?" he asks her then, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Hm?"
Junkrat gestures at his arm. The band is still gripped around it looking uncomfortably tight, and she's been staring at the numbers on the monitor without actually doing anything. Oh, shit. She must've totally zoned out.
"I'm so sorry," she says, rushing to note down the reading on her tablet and loosen the strap. Junkrat frowns.
"Something wrong? Y'seem a little out of it."
"I do? Oh, it's just- I haven't been sleeping all that well recently." Angela is embarrassed that her tiredness is not only noticeable, but apparently affecting her ability to perform simple tasks as well. "I'm alright."
She tries to brighten her face with a big smile but Junkrat clearly isn't convinced.
"What is it? Insomnia?"
"Sort of." She busies herself packing away the equipment. "It's because of this heatwave."
"Ah, right. I gotcha. You do look a bit tired."
Wonderful, Angela thinks. "I haven't gotten much sleep all week," she explains, smiling apologetically at him. She should've made more of an effort with her makeup today.
"Hm." Junkrat drums his chin. "S'been pretty hot, hasn't it? For the UK."
"It certainly has."
"Yeah, seen lotsa people complaining about it. This is the perfect sorta temperature for me though. I love it hot and sunny, feels more like home when it's like this."
Angela looks at Junkrat – at his carefree smile and bronzed skin. He probably tans the second he goes outside. Someday she'd like to go on a beach holiday and see if she can get a tan herself, having always been a fan of the sunkissed look, but that's going to be a long way off now that work has started up again.
"You not so good in the heat then?" Junkrat asks, apparently still curious. Angela sighs.
"Terrible in it, actually. I even have air-conditioning units at home, unlike most other houses here in England, but they've been broken for weeks now and I haven't been able to get anyone out to fix them."
"Oh right. S'pose it's pretty grim here most of the time, isn't it?"
"The average temperature is definitely much lower than this, but I think the British way is to grit your teeth and struggle through anyway," Angela says. Junkrat scratches his chin.
"Sounds about right. But, uh. I could always take a look at it, if ya wanted, maybe."
And now she's so tired she's hearing things. Angela sits back down when the equipment is stored away, tapping away on her tablet in preparation for his discharge.
"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," she says, looking up at him.
"Your aircon," Junkrat says, scratching at his cheek now instead. "Could always come and take a look for ya."
Angela blinks at him, astonished by this sudden and incredibly random suggestion. She puts her tablet down.
"Gosh. That – it's awfully kind of you to offer but I wouldn't want to trouble you," she says, just as astonished at how automatically she declines it.
"You sure? I'm pretty good at tinkering with stuff. Quite enjoy it, actually."
Junkrat's expression is open and relaxed, but Angela sits back in her seat and wonders if there's some sort of catch here that she's missing. It makes sense that he'd have experience tinkering with appliances if he's able to build his own weapon – his own body parts, even - but it feels like second nature to politely reject this kind of helpful offer. She's definitely spent too long living in Britain.
"I… I just. I'd hate for you to have to come so far out of your way," she says, mouth on autopilot. Luckily, he laughs.
"You're only an hour away. S'hardly outta my way, doc. I remember from our night out."
"Oh. Yes, of course," she says, aware that her face is beginning to feel uncomfortably warm.
"S'no trouble for me," Junkrat says, casually. "Especially if it might help ya sleep better in this heat."
Angela has no reason to doubt his intentions here – or even his capability – but for some reason she still hesitates. Damn it, why is she fighting this? She's been dying to get someone to come out and look at those bloody units, and now that Junkrat is offering it's like she's going out of her way to be aggressively polite!
"Are you… sure?" she says, needing to give him one last chance to back out of this even though he's the one who offered in the first place. Junkrat's eyebrows knit together.
"Look - I broke that window yesterday, right? I can't make any promises, but if nothing else I can have a good crack at fixing it. Sorta like compensation, or - I dunno, equivalent exchange or… something."
Junkrat ruffles a hand through his hair like he's struggling to communicate how simple this is. Angela cringes, feeling silly for turning what should be an easy and very grateful yes into such a big deal.
"I'll – I'll gladly reimburse you for the train if you were to come and look. And for your time," she adds hurriedly. He waves his hand at her.
"Eh, we can work all that out later. You want me to come take a look, then?"
His eyebrows lift up like he's willing her to say yes already. Angela holds his gaze for a moment before allowing her shoulders to relax.
"If you're sure, then… yes please, I really would," she says, finally. Even Junkrat puffs out a sigh of relief.
"Phew! Thank god, we got there in the end!"
"Sorry," Angela says, knowing he's only teasing but embarrassed nonetheless. "I just- it's so kind of you. I think I'd sort of given up on getting them fixed, to be honest."
"Nah, don't you worry. We'll get it sorted, no problem."
"Thank you," she says, softly. "I really do appreciate it."
Junkrat shakes his head. "S'alright. Can't have our Mercy suffering in the heat, can I? Could always swing by later on today if ya wanted, see if we can get it sorted ready for the weekend."
She laughs at this, amazed by how eager he is to help. "I haven't even discharged you yet!"
"Yeah, but you're gonna do that now, right? … Right?"
Junkrat's face pulls into a sort of hopeful grimace, making her laugh again.
"I am, yes. But tonight is no good anyway, not when I've got to get you back on track in the gym and check in with the other two. It's going to be a busy day."
"Alright then. Hmm." Junkrat squints up at the ceiling like he's thinking. "How about… Saturday?" he says then, looking back at her. "Got no plans during the day."
Gosh, he really is keen. Angela can't quite believe this. It's a very pleasant disbelief, though, and even if he's only actually trying to alleviate his guilt from yesterday – essentially repay the favour of being looked after – Angela is insurmountably excited by the prospect of an air-conditioned house.
"Okay then, yes. Shall we go over the details later? I'd better get you discharged so we can head back down to the practice range. Lúcio and Roadhog will have finished their warm-ups by now."
"Fine by me, doc! Can't wait to get outta here and back to the good stuff!"
While still physically exhausted she's almost as buoyant as he is once he's discharged. They head down to the training facility together, discussing what train he'll need to get and when he's thinking of arriving. Junkrat doesn't seem keen to lock in any particular time, which makes her a little nervous, but she's so grateful he's even offered that it doesn't feel too important. She just hopes it won't be too late in the day. The house will need a good tidy this evening either way.
The boys have indeed finished their exercises when they arrive, and when Junkrat immediately beelines to Roadhog, Angela heads over to Lúcio, who's sitting on the edge of the treadmill on his phone.
"Hey, doc!" he greets, standing up. "Everything okay? Winston told us what happened."
"Yes, everything's fine thank you," she says. "I'm so sorry to have abandoned you yesterday."
"No worries. Getting home early meant I was able to videocall Hana, so it worked out pretty great."
Angela tries to contain her excitement hearing this, expression trained into something she hopes is neutral.
"Really! How's she getting on out there?"
Lúcio sucks in a breath. "Honestly? I dunno, man, she thinks everything's a little too quiet. Apparently there've only been a couple of rogue omnics out in the streets causing trouble, but… y'know when you just get that feeling?"
All too well, Angela thinks. "She's worried that the worst is to come?"
"Yeah, exactly. I get that she's got nothing to worry about so far but I dunno. Something's not right."
"I'm inclined to agree with you, but it's no good worrying about something that hasn't happened yet. May not happen, either."
Lúcio looks reassured by this but she decides it best to change the subject anyway. "We'll be informed if anything changes. Aside from work, how was she?"
Almost instantly Lúcio's entire countenance relaxes, his worry flipped into warmth. "Oh, she's having a blast out there. Hitting all the arcades, keeps winning a bunch of – plushies, I think they're called? Those cute cuddly toys?"
"Yes, her plushies," Angela sighs, grinning. "It's good to hear that she's enjoying herself during her downtime. Has she mentioned any of the others at all?"
"Uh, I think she's been hanging out with Genji and Zenyatta. Mostly she's been showing me the stuff she's winning at the arcade and all the food she's eating." Lúcio rolls his head back. "God, it looks so GOOD. You think we might be sent out there sometime?"
Angela hasn't been to Japan for a couple of years now. The last time was after Genji had damaged one of his spinal chips on a particularly dangerous mission, which had necessitated a business-class flight straight over to attend him.
"We might be sent out there in the future, yes, but only if it's necessary," she says. "I wouldn't mind going back sometime too, though. It's a wonderful country to visit."
"I'll bet. Japan and South Korea have been on my list for a long time."
Angela tries not to grin too hard at this. She'll have to text Lena later to fill her in on this exciting gossip.
"I don't expect you'll be deployed anywhere for a little while, sadly, but I'm sure you'll love it when you do get around to visiting Japan."
"No katsu curry for me yet then," Lúcio sighs. Angela smiles at him.
"I know a few good Japanese places in London. Anyway, let's get back to training. We're a little behind schedule after yesterday."
She asks Lúcio to head into the practice range, then turns to call for Junkrat only to see him gesturing excitedly at Roadhog over by the free weights. He's still shirtless, of course, and covered in bandages, but it's a relief to see him back to his usual self. They come over when she calls again, Junkrat chipper and a little pink faced with Roadhog by his side, quiet as always.
Angela gets Lúcio and Roadhog teamed up in the practice range before guiding Junkrat through some gentle cardio. He can't do anything too intense with his injuries, but he seems ecstatic to be doing anything at all, which she supposes is natural after being in the ward all night. Winston comes down shortly before lunch to check up on him, taking Angela aside briefly while she's assessing Junkrat on the treadmill.
"How's he doing?"
"Mostly back to normal," Angela says. She lifts her tablet to show Winston all the stats from this morning. "Next week we'll be able to put him back on the regular programme, but for today I think it's better if he sticks with easier exercises."
"Sounds good to me," Winston says. He hums in approval as he looks over the tablet. "Would it be too much of an inconvenience if I had ten minutes with him before lunch?"
Angela's stomach immediately tightens. "Not at all," she says, not exactly having a choice. She watches as Winston calls him off the treadmill, stomach tightening again at the scowl that appears on Junkrat's face. He catches her eye as Winston leads them out of the gym and Angela smiles sympathetically at him, feeling stupid when she automatically lifts her hand to give him a little wave. His scowl eases a bit, at least, but he can probably guess what's coming.
Angela bites her lip. Winston will take the fairest approach possible, as he always does when any one of the team has needed a talking to before, but Angela wishes she hadn't allowed Junkrat to get so ahead of himself in the first place. Hopefully it'll be a verbal warning rather than a disciplinary. It's enough that he's injured, suffering the physical consequences of his actions. He shouldn't need a black mark on his record for a mistake where nobody else got hurt.
There's no use worrying about it, anyway. Angela tries to put it out of her mind, going over to the practice range to let the boys know it's time to break for lunch. She feels very tired as she heads up to the cafeteria afterwards, ready for food and even readier for sleep.
Lúcio's been talking to Hana, she writes, texting Lena as soon as she's sitting down with her tray. SO cute. We must catch up next week!
The cafeteria is quiet – typical for a Friday when most of HQ seems to work from home. This apparently includes Lena today. Angela is used to eating on her own most of the time but she's rather enjoyed meeting up with her during the week, chatting over coffee while they have lunch together.
Oh my god! What did he say? Lena texts back, almost instantly.
He's worried about her, which is cute, but also commented on the plushies, which was doubly cute.
Angela and Jack had helped Hana pack away her things when she moved out of her Overwatch dormitory, and an entire box had been devoted to stuffed toys. Arcade prizes, apparently - Hana's second pride and joy after her retro gaming consoles.
That's adorable! Oh doc I can't wait until they're back from Japan, we need to all go out again. Halloween is way too far away.
Gosh, it truly is. They've only just hit August. Angela doesn't think she can wait until then for another fun night out with everyone and texts Lena saying as much.
Ohhh, I can't go out this evening or tomorrow cause I've got a date night planned with Emily, Lena says in her reply.But we could always go out during the day if you wanted? Saturday shopping trip?
Angela balks at this. Unbelievable! The one time she actually has plans and that's just when Lena invites her to go shopping? With how tired she's been all week it's doubtful she would've been up to it anyway, but damn, of all the clashes to have!
I'd love to but I can't this weekend :( Next?
Haha sure thing, works for me! Let's do it!
Angela just sighs. At least she didn't ask why. If Lena knew Junkrat was coming over – even for something as innocuous as attempting to repair some appliances – she can't imagine it going down very well.
The rest of the day proves as busy as she expected, but it's made much better knowing that she's hopefully getting some quality sleep this weekend. It's a good thing that she discussed the trains with Junkrat earlier as she doesn't get a chance to talk to him properly again, too occupied with Lúcio in the practice range to do more than check up on him every now and then. She manages to catch him just before he and Roadhog are leaving for the day, all four of them bundling into the elevator to head up from the basement.
"And you're sure you don't want to take any painkillers?" Angela asks, checking Junkrat over. He's gone the entire day without wearing a shirt, which proves to be a good thing - it means she can see he hasn't bled through any of his bandages.
"Nah, no need," he says. "Thanks to you ordering me to take it easy."
They share a smile. Angela is relieved that Junkrat sounds grateful for this as opposed to resentful. She wants to ask how it went with Winston, too, but can't with Lúcio and Roadhog in here as well.
"Make sure you continue to take it easy tonight," she says instead. "That goes for all of you. I think you've earned a good rest after having such a brilliant week."
They chatter until the elevator dings at reception, Angela handing over a fresh shirt so Junkrat can dress himself before leaving. She's really flagging now that the day – and week – is finally over, and doesn't do a good job of masking her exhaustion as she says goodbye. Lúcio pulls out his phone the moment he's out of the building, almost certainly so he can contact Hana, and then she's left in reception with the Junkers. Roadhog is unreadable as usual with his mask on, but Junkrat is positively beaming at her. It's enough to perk her up again despite being so tired she could curl up on the floor and sleep right here, in this last vestige of air-conditioning before having to brave the searing heat of the city.
"So! I'll be seeing ya tomorrow then!" Junkrat says. He sounds quite excited about it, which is touching considering he's essentially coming over to do her a favour.
"You certainly will be," Angela says. "Just let me know when you're at the station and I'll come and pick you up."
"Sure, sure. Oh, before I forget – give us your number."
"My number?"
"Er." Junkrat's smile wavers. He scratches his neck. "I mean, if that's alright."
"Oh!" she says, realising what he's asking for. It's been ages since she needed to give out her personal phone number. "Yes, of course, sorry."
When they've exchanged a confirmation text, she says goodbye for a final time before they split off outside HQ. Angela slouches in the cool train carriage, managing to have a little doze between London and her station. Home is suffocating when she arrives. She's so used to it being like this that she doesn't feel nearly as irritated when she gets inside and strips off her work dress. Now that Junkrat will hopefully be providing a permanent reprieve from the heat it somehow feels more tolerable, though it could also be her body finally starting to acclimatise to the weather. She won't acclimatise nearly enough to go without air-conditioning, though. If it can't be fixed, Angela is determined that by the end of the weekend she will pay however much money it takes to get some new units instead. Sometimes it's simply worth coughing up.
While stifling, the house isn't as messy as she'd feared – likely a result of spending most of her time sitting in front of fans rather than doing any redecorating. She's got a bunch of laundry to catch up on and some dishes that need doing, but once that's done it's back to lazing in the sitting room with a fan pointed at her face. Angela feels like she's properly relaxed for the first time this week, splayed on the couch in nothing but shorts and a loose vest. She'll have a shower later to rinse off the sweat before getting into bed. For now, it's simply bliss to sit and unwind.
Angela reflects on what a week it's been - demanding but fulfilling despite the incident on Thursday. A whirlwind, as she's come to expect from being a part of Overwatch, though she allows herself to hope that perhaps next week won't be quite so dramatic.
She's also, privately, a little excited for Junkrat's visit tomorrow. When was the last time she had company? Feels like it's been months since she had anyone come to visit her, what with being so wrapped up in work, house renovation, and travelling to London for the few dates she managed before Overwatch took over. It might've even been a year, actually. Angela can't remember entertaining anyone since she moved here. Even Lena hasn't come to visit her, though that's Angela's fault for having never thought to invite her. She couldn't, though, not with the house still unfinished.
Besides that, Junkrat isn't coming as a guest - it's more of a functional visit. She can't imagine him minding the unpacked storage units in the sitting room, nor the unpainted walls or the exposed floorboards where carpets have been stripped downstairs. He might not be here long enough to take a look outside, but Angela gets up to peer out into the garden anyway. Looks like the caretakers have done a brilliant job this week while she's been away, so that's one thing she doesn't have to worry about.
Hours later, naked on the bed and ready to sweat out what she's praying will be her last non-air-conditioned evening at home, Angela thinks about tomorrow. She should be tired enough to fall asleep instantly like she did yesterday, but there's a strange sort of buzzing in her head that's keeping her brain from shutting off. She's certainly excited about having the units fixed, but it feels more like she's excited about having some company for a change. Possibly a little nervous, too. It really has been too long since she saw anyone outside of work.
Angela turns onto her side, opening her eyes to the darkness of the room. Maybe she should've told Lena Junkrat was coming after all. She shouldn't have to hide it, should she? It's not a big deal. Lena may not like him, but that doesn't mean Angela isn't allowed to get along with him. In fact, she's probably so excited about having company because it's Junkrat, because they get along so well. Much better than she thought they would, at any rate.
Is it strange to be so excited about seeing him? Angela worries briefly that it is- that it's inappropriate for him to be coming over considering he's just a colleague. Well, no, 'just a colleague' is too clinical. She's friends with Lena. With Hana and Jesse. Genji. Jack, even. Being colleagues doesn't mean they can't be friends. It wouldn't be inappropriate if she invited any of them to come over for lunch, or for dinner.
No, Angela thinks, closing her eyes again. It's not strange. She likes Junkrat just the same as she likes all the other agents. There's nothing wrong with being excited to see him. Nothing wrong at all.
Angela drifts off to this mantra, but when she gets up the next day her nerves are more intense. Thankfully she got some decent sleep in the end, and after another shower and breakfast Angela dashes around making sure the house is tidy as possible for a work in progress. When she checks the time it isn't quite as late as she was hoping – just coming up to nine thirty – so she takes her time getting dressed and putting her makeup on, a task that's usually rushed before she leaves to grab her train.
Comfortable in shorts and a plain vest top, Angela finds it's just gone ten o'clock and she's sitting on the veranda with her phone in hand. Now that she's happy with the state of the house as well as herself, it's just a case of waiting for Junkrat to contact her. She can't go anywhere until she knows what time he's coming. Angela scrolls through some of her news apps, simmering in the quiet excitement of being able to finally host a friend - and only slightly bothered that Junkrat didn't give her an estimation of when he'd arrive.
Hours pass, and the morning heats up. By lunchtime she's not only sweating again but antsy. Angela is starting to wonder if Junkrat didn't lock in a time because he knew he was going out last night, a thought that makes something unidentifiable tug unpleasantly at her stomach. It wouldn't surprise her if he did. She thinks of the girl Lena told her about from last time – the stranger Junkrat was flirting with – and abruptly shakes her head, frowning to herself, because it isn't that. Definitely not. It's the thought of him going out so soon after his crash. To be fair, he was in a fit enough state to work out yesterday, and a couple of drinks can be very relaxing after a hard week….
Still, she really hopes he didn't. Angela doesn't want to have to bandage him up all over again today. There's also the worry that he might be hungover. Surely he'd let her know if he was. Surely he wouldn't get so drunk in the first place knowing he was due to be coming over.
Angela distracts herself from these increasingly niggling worries by preparing lunch. Naturally, Junkrat texts her the moment she puts her phone down.
Hey doc I'm on the train now! Be there soon
Brilliant. He's on his way after all. She lets out a long breath, feeling light now that the worry of his arrival has lifted, and holds off on making lunch. If he hasn't eaten yet she might be able to make lunch for him, too – something else she hasn't had a chance to do for anyone.
Angela is so familiar with the trains running from London that she knows what time he'll be getting in without needing to check. After sweeping through the house, she looks in the mirror one last time before getting in her car and driving over to collect him, satisfied that she looks presentable. Angela is also relieved that he hasn't chosen to come any later than this, filling with excitement again when her phone vibrates just as she's pulling into the station.
Sure enough, Junkrat is there. He's standing outside the foyer waiting for her, wearing shorts and a vest top with a pair of aviator sunglasses resting on top of his head. He's watching out for her, metal hand holding onto a well-used toolkit. Angela is immediately jealous of how comfortable he looks standing out in the sun like that while she's spent the morning similarly dressed but also feeling like she could melt at any moment. Even those sunglasses suit him.
A few other people who've gotten off the same train are filing out of the station and stare at him on their way. They've probably never seen anyone like him before, living in such a quaint part of the English countryside. That's alright, Angela thinks. She's never seen anyone like Junkrat either, and smiles as she opens her car door to wave at him.
"Junkrat! Over here!"
A grin breaks out over his face when he spots her. Junkrat pulls his sunglasses over his eyes and heads over.
"G'day!" he greets, a bit clumsy as he climbs into the passenger seat. He's trying not to smack his prosthetic leg against any of the interior. "You alright?"
"Yes thanks. Nice glasses," she says, honestly. "That's an interesting top, too."
Junkrat's vest has DUMB BLOND written on it in bold letters. He looks down, tugging at it like he'd forgotten he was wearing it.
"Oh yeah, this one. Don't worry, it certainly ain't in reference to your good self!" he says, putting his toolkit in the backseat before settling in. Angela goes to pull away before she has to turn and squint at him.
"Seatbelt on, please."
"Oh! Right, 'course," he laughs, clicking it in. Angela shakes her head as she drives out, though she's still smiling.
"Hopeless," she sighs. "How was the journey? Actually, no, how're you?"
"Me? I'm great! Feeling much better. That healing stuff you used worked a treat – had a peek through some of the bandages and the cuts are lookin' good."
"That's very good to hear," she says. "No sharp pains?"
"Nope. Nothing that's been a bother anyway." Junkrat taps on his right arm. "Built of tougher stuff than skin, me."
"Metal, you mean?"
"Well, yeah, if you wanna be literal about it."
Angela is concentrating on the road but she can feel him smiling at her. All of a sudden she feels very aware that they're outside the professional confines of headquarters and are now spending time together not strictly as colleagues, but as friends. She hasn't been particularly worried that it might be awkward, but, well, if it is, there isn't anything she can do about it now that Junkrat's in her car.
"Swanky ride by the way," he observes. "What's the engine on it?"
"I'm afraid I couldn't tell you," Angela says. It's an electric four wheel drive that's sturdy and free to tax, which is good enough for her and about the extent of her interest in cars.
"Miss driving," Junkrat sighs. "Wish I had me licence over here already."
"At least you've got the tube, though. Public transport in London is second to none."
"That's true. Jeez, it's bloody cold in here," he says then, exaggeratedly rubbing his arms. "You got the aircon on?"
"Of course I do – this is the only place I can get it when I'm not at headquarters!"
She immediately turns the aircon temperature up.
"S'alright, doc, I'll live," Junkrat says, reaching over to turn it back down. Angela darts an uncertain look at him.
"Junkrat, I don't want you to freeze to death. Well," she says, pretending to reconsider. "Not yet, at least."
"Oh that's charming, that is!" he says, feigning indignation.
"I'm kidding. Please, I don't want to subject your warm-blooded Australian self to the Antarctica that is my car."
She goes to turn the dial up again but Junkrat reaches out, holding her hand with his metal one to stop her. His touch is warm, like the metal has been heated by sunlight, and surprisingly gentle. Angela is alarmed that it seems to make her stomach flip.
"How about we go halves instead," he says, tilting the dial with his hand still on hers so that it's halfway between the two. "That better?"
She looks over at him. The sunglasses hide almost half of his face but Junkrat is grinning. He takes his hand off so she can put hers back on the gearstick, and Angela is even more alarmed at how hot her face feels already. Must be too used to having the car as an icebox, she thinks.
"Thank you," she says. "I can't believe you've been in here for five minutes and we've already had a fight."
"Woah, steady on, doc. We ain't married just yet."
Okay, this just makes her laugh.
"Wh- What?" she blurts out.
"At least give it another hour or so," Junkrat says, sounding incredibly serious. "Then we can talk about having a fight. Y'know, me sleeping on the couch and who's picking the kids up after school."
"Stop," she says, still laughing, "you're going to make me crash!"
"But there aren't any windows around here! Can't crash the car if there's nothing spectacular to crash through. Thought you'd know that by now!"
The station isn't too far away from home, but Angela's jaw is aching from having smiled the entire way back. Any nervousness lingering from the morning has dissolved by the time she's parked, and she goes to unlock the door with a grin still pulled across her lips, wondering how she could've ever thought that hanging out with Junkrat outside of work would be even remotely awkward. He whistles behind her, getting out of the car.
"This is alright, isn't it?" he says, taking his sunglasses off and looking around the outside of her home in approval.
Junkrat has done an excellent job of continually surprising her so far, but he's managed to take it to another level this time. Angela doesn't think he's ever looked so clean in all the time she's seen him. There's no grime on his face, and when she allows her eyes to flit down over the rest of his exposed skin it looks very much as though he's had a proper bath. There's nothing but tanned skin on display. Goodness. Even his hair looks somewhat tamer than usual.
A warm burst of gratitude lifts into her chest when she meets his eyes again, amazed – and also incredibly flattered – that he appears to have made such an effort. He also appears to have noticed that she's been looking at him and folds his arms, regarding her with smug look.
"Something on my face, doc?"
"Nothing, actually," Angela says, allowing herself to sound impressed. Junkrat grins like he's very pleased to hear this.
"Hmm. Thought you might say that."
"Credit where it's due- you scrub up very well," she says.
"Pfft. As if you'd let me drag m'self through your house without having a wash. I don't have a death wish."
"Wait until you get inside," Angela says. "It's a mess."
"Come off it," Junkrat snorts. "Bet you don't know the meaning of the word mess!"
"Probably best to reserve your judgement until you've seen for yourself," she says then, unlocking the door.
"Oh yeah? What, your turn to impress me now, is it?" Junkrat asks.
Angela glances around at him. He's smirking at her, eyebrow lifted. She knows all he's doing is returning the challenge she issued him the other day, but… it feels very much like he might actually be flirting with her, this time.
It's – no. Gosh, what's she thinking? He's only being cheeky.
"Well, I can only do my best," Angela says, opening up the door as a distraction from this sudden and rather worryingly exciting thought. "Please, come in."