Jamison "Junkrat" Fawkes

The weight of Junkrat’s face against his chest was so light, Roadhog didn’t think it was there for a moment. It was only when he felt the hot tears dripping onto his skin that he realized Junkrat was pressed so close against him. The Outback didn’t create sensitive people. It created ruthless individuals who would sooner tear one another to shreds than show any sort of empathy. Feelings were weakness and weakness meant death. Roadhog had subscribed to this for a long time. He’d had no choice. Life was pain, and so too was death. But it was different with Junkrat. Roadhog couldn’t say what was different, only that it was. He was crying again…but this time Roadhog had a suspicion that it was due to his kindness rather than the terror of the nightmare.

In the low light, Junkrat couldn’t read the slight twitch of Roadhog’s lips - but he heard the faint lilt of amusement in his deep voice, and it was enough to make him smile just a little himself, even through his tears. He nodded again when Roadhog suggested they get moving and like the other, looked down to search out his prosthetics; he was slowly beginning to understand where - or more precisely when - he was. He wasn’t in Junkertown at least, and he’d already lost his arm and leg. Which of course he had - they’d gone long before he’d met Roadhog. But it was as though he were assembling a puzzle without the end picture to guide him, slotting pieces in as and when he found their match; there was no rhyme or reason to Junkrat’s thought processes following an abrupt waking from a night terror. Well, even less than usual that was.

It took no effort on Roadhog’s part to carry Junkrat in the crook of one massive arm. Junkrat might have been tall, but he was lanky and thin. Living in the Outback didn’t lend itself to much weight gain. Roadhog was the exception to the rule, but he had been a large man before the Omnium had blown everything sky high. He was patient, and he waited for Junkrat to settle down from his squirming so that he could make his way over to the bed. Roadhog’s lips twitched upward in the barest hint of a smile once again at Junkrat’s giggle. The situation was different, and definitely not how he pictured the night going…but in a strange way, it wasn’t unwelcome. Maybe Junkrat was right, and he was just going soft in his old age. 

Junkrat grinned at Roadhog’s muttered words and at the rolling of his eyes, just visible in the dark. Given enough time he would have come up with a witty line of response - something about knowing how to pick up hot guys at bars or the like. But before he could, the pushed-together mattresses groaned beneath Roadhog’s weight and he found himself being drawn even closer against the other’s broad, warm chest.

Roadhog chuckled softly at Junkrat’s whispering, audible despite how much Junkrat’s voice was muffled by Roadhog’s chest. He’d always been somewhat of a light sleeper. It had been exacerbated by the necessity of always being on guard. However, even Roadhog had to admit there was something peaceful about having Junkrat curled up beside him. It hadn’t always been that way. At first, Roadhog had merely tolerated it as a part of his employment.

Junkrat shivered again at the warmth of Roadhog’s broad hand on his back, and he swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat, bowing his head to press his brow to the other’s soft breast. He felt as much as heard Roadhog’s gentle words, his breath tickling the hairs at the back of his neck and his chest rumbling with the deepness of them. Fuck. He wanted to just... fall asleep right then, pulled tight against him, cradled in his strong arms and the safest he’d ever been...

The weight of Junkrat’s face against his chest was so light, Roadhog didn’t think it was there for a moment. It was only when he felt the hot tears dripping onto his skin that he realized Junkrat was pressed so close against him. The Outback didn’t create sensitive people. It created ruthless individuals who would sooner tear one another to shreds than show any sort of empathy. Feelings were weakness and weakness meant death. Roadhog had subscribed to this for a long time. He’d had no choice. Life was pain, and so too was death. But it was different with Junkrat. Roadhog couldn’t say what was different, only that it was. He was crying again…but this time Roadhog had a suspicion that it was due to his kindness rather than the terror of the nightmare.

In the low light, Junkrat couldn’t read the slight twitch of Roadhog’s lips - but he heard the faint lilt of amusement in his deep voice, and it was enough to make him smile just a little himself, even through his tears. He nodded again when Roadhog suggested they get moving and like the other, looked down to search out his prosthetics; he was slowly beginning to understand where - or more precisely when - he was. He wasn’t in Junkertown at least, and he’d already lost his arm and leg. Which of course he had - they’d gone long before he’d met Roadhog. But it was as though he were assembling a puzzle without the end picture to guide him, slotting pieces in as and when he found their match; there was no rhyme or reason to Junkrat’s thought processes following an abrupt waking from a night terror. Well, even less than usual that was.

It took no effort on Roadhog’s part to carry Junkrat in the crook of one massive arm. Junkrat might have been tall, but he was lanky and thin. Living in the Outback didn’t lend itself to much weight gain. Roadhog was the exception to the rule, but he had been a large man before the Omnium had blown everything sky high. He was patient, and he waited for Junkrat to settle down from his squirming so that he could make his way over to the bed. Roadhog’s lips twitched upward in the barest hint of a smile once again at Junkrat’s giggle. The situation was different, and definitely not how he pictured the night going…but in a strange way, it wasn’t unwelcome. Maybe Junkrat was right, and he was just going soft in his old age. 

Junkrat grinned at Roadhog's muttered words and at the rolling of his eyes, just visible in the dark. Given enough time he would have come up with a witty line of response - something about knowing how to pick up hot guys at bars or the like. But before he could, the pushed-together mattresses groaned beneath Roadhog's weight and he found himself being drawn even closer against the other's broad, warm chest.

The weight of Junkrat’s face against his chest was so light, Roadhog didn’t think it was there for a moment. It was only when he felt the hot tears dripping onto his skin that he realized Junkrat was pressed so close against him. The Outback didn’t create sensitive people. It created ruthless individuals who would sooner tear one another to shreds than show any sort of empathy. Feelings were weakness and weakness meant death. Roadhog had subscribed to this for a long time. He’d had no choice. Life was pain, and so too was death. But it was different with Junkrat. Roadhog couldn’t say what was different, only that it was. He was crying again…but this time Roadhog had a suspicion that it was due to his kindness rather than the terror of the nightmare.

In the low light, Junkrat couldn't read the slight twitch of Roadhog's lips - but he heard the faint lilt of amusement in his deep voice, and it was enough to make him smile just a little himself, even through his tears. He nodded again when Roadhog suggested they get moving and like the other, looked down to search out his prosthetics; he was slowly beginning to understand where - or more precisely when - he was. He wasn't in Junkertown at least, and he'd already lost his arm and leg. Which of course he had - they'd gone long before he'd met Roadhog. But it was as though he were assembling a puzzle without the end picture to guide him, slotting pieces in as and when he found their match; there was no rhyme or reason to Junkrat's thought processes following an abrupt waking from a night terror. Well, even less than usual that was.

The Junkers had holed up in a crummy motel as far from the city centre as possible. The day had been spent finalising plans for the heist which had drawn them there, prepping their weapons and explosives; finally, all that had been left to do was get some shut-eye before it was time for shit to go down. The “luxury suite” - there was nothing even homely about it let alone luxurious - consisted of two single beds and a sofa, so Junkrat had left the beds for Roadhog to make the most of and sprawled out on the scratchy, mildewy cushions instead.

The beds weren’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but they were something to sleep on and that was good enough for Roadhog. He’d pushed them together and settled on top of them, and it wasn’t long before the larger junker was asleep. Unlike his companion, Roadhog usually slept for decent stretches of time. But, his sleep was always light. It had to be, when you were surrounded by a less than forgiving environment. Tonight though, sleep had been peaceful, more or less. Right up until he heard a yell come from across the room.

Junkrat didn’t seem to register Roadhog’s approach, indeed didn’t notice him whatsoever until the other’s hoarse voice was sounding beside him; if notice was the right word at all, considering the lack of focus in his lidded gaze as he turned toward him. His mouth was hanging open, muscles lax and slack where he’d been wound tense only moments before. He swallowed and smacked his lips, and his lone hand came up to paw the air between them as though he was grabbing for something.

“What?” Roadhog asked, his brain slowly registering what the hell Junkrat had said to him. “The hell are you-“ He began to ask again, when Junkrat collapsed on the floor. Roadhog silently groaned. It was too early for this. He bent slightly to haul Junkrat off the floor and back onto the couch. Surely he hadn’t imagined the smaller junker yelling like that? Roadhog was pretty sure that he hadn’t. “Rat.” The massive man gave the blonde a decent enough shake to hopefully try and shock Junkrat out of whatever sleep-addled state he seemed to be in right now.

It was a good thing Junkrat had someone as strong as Roadhog around to watch his arse, because he was nothing but dead weight as the other hauled him back onto the sofa. His open hand butted against Roadhog’s broad arm as though he was confused by its presence; he didn’t even seem to register that he’d fallen, let alone been picked back up. Neither the fall nor Roadhog’s efforts to wake him appeared to have any effect on his strange, deep sleep - as evidenced by the way his head lolled atop his neck as he was shaken.

Junkrat, amazingly, still didn’t seem to be awake. Roadhog wasn’t quite sure he was managing it honestly, but his head simply rolled back and forth right up until the lanky blonde leapt went rigid. He shifted slightly to do his best to avoid the blow in the dark. It didn’t hurt much anyway, not with Junkrat in his current sleep-addled state. Roadhog just ached a brow in surprise at the smaller junker desperately trying to reach the door. He had no idea what the hell had provoked this reaction, but there was no way that Junkrat could reach the door like this.

Junkrat seemed, for all his sleep-addled un-coordination, absolutely determined to get away from Roadhog via whatever means possible - his only means being a single, weakly clenched fist, that is. But for better - or very possibly worse - Roadhog’s efforts to wake him, at last appeared to pay off, the heavy-handed shake he gave cutting Junkrat short just as he opened his mouth to slur again; instead of bursting into another half-coherent tirade he jolted in the other’s grasp, mouth hanging open wordlessly as he was finally torn from his deep sleep and his mind struggled to process the situation he found himself in.

Roadhog wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting when Junkrat finally snapped to, but a panicked cry was not it. He actually loosened his in shocked surprise when Junkrat hurled himself back onto the couch, and Roadhog was pretty sure he had been right about the whole nightmare thing. He’d never seen Junkrat look so afraid, not like this. It was then Roadhog realized that the mask probably wasn’t helping, and he tugged it off to reveal his face. Junkrat had only seen it a few times during their time together, but Roadhog supposed this was as good a time as any to make an exception before Junkrat actually got any more panicked about the situation.

Junkrat had pressed himself as far back into the sofa cushions as he could, his eyes darting fitfully around the unfamiliar room in a desperate plea to find something recognizable, something to anchor him. His fight-or-flight response was in overdrive, but his still-reeling mind was unable to make sense of his suroundings, to process what he should do. When Roadhog reached up to remove his mask the movement caught his attention and he flinched instinctively, scrunching his eyes closed and cowering behind his arms.

Roadhog blinked in surprise at the sob, his eyes moving down when Junkrat raised his his stump. Understanding entered his expression, and he gently placed a hand on Junkrat’s shoulder. “Junkrat…it was a dream, a nightmare.” He murmured softly, settling on the couch beside Junkrat and wrapping his arm around the skinny figure beside him. “It’s okay, everything is all right.” Roadhog tugged Junkrat against his side, letting the blonde rest against him as they sat there together in the darkness of the room. 

Junkrat's breath hitched again as the weight of Roadhog's hand settled gently upon his shoulder, his wide-eyed gaze following him through the dim light as he moved to sit beside him. He let himself be drawn to Roadhog's side, slumping against him weakly to rest his head against his chest so that he felt, as much as heard, his rumbling words of comfort. Though it had been a long time since Junkrat had suffered as severe a night terror as tonight’s, it had been even longer since he'd had someone to care for him after. Roadhog's reassurances, the warmth and strength of his arm as it wrapped around him - each one of these things were so foreign to Junkrat. He was a Junker, made tough by a loveless world and tough on it in return, more likely to spit and laugh in the face of his fears than succumb to them. Men like him didn't need soft, kind words and - and all this.

The Junkers had holed up in a crummy motel as far from the city centre as possible. The day had been spent finalising plans for the heist which had drawn them there, prepping their weapons and explosives; finally, all that had been left to do was get some shut-eye before it was time for shit to go down. The “luxury suite” - there was nothing even homely about it let alone luxurious - consisted of two single beds and a sofa, so Junkrat had left the beds for Roadhog to make the most of and sprawled out on the scratchy, mildewy cushions instead.

The beds weren’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but they were something to sleep on and that was good enough for Roadhog. He’d pushed them together and settled on top of them, and it wasn’t long before the larger junker was asleep. Unlike his companion, Roadhog usually slept for decent stretches of time. But, his sleep was always light. It had to be, when you were surrounded by a less than forgiving environment. Tonight though, sleep had been peaceful, more or less. Right up until he heard a yell come from across the room.

Junkrat didn’t seem to register Roadhog’s approach, indeed didn’t notice him whatsoever until the other’s hoarse voice was sounding beside him; if notice was the right word at all, considering the lack of focus in his lidded gaze as he turned toward him. His mouth was hanging open, muscles lax and slack where he’d been wound tense only moments before. He swallowed and smacked his lips, and his lone hand came up to paw the air between them as though he was grabbing for something.

“What?” Roadhog asked, his brain slowly registering what the hell Junkrat had said to him. “The hell are you-“ He began to ask again, when Junkrat collapsed on the floor. Roadhog silently groaned. It was too early for this. He bent slightly to haul Junkrat off the floor and back onto the couch. Surely he hadn’t imagined the smaller junker yelling like that? Roadhog was pretty sure that he hadn’t. “Rat.” The massive man gave the blonde a decent enough shake to hopefully try and shock Junkrat out of whatever sleep-addled state he seemed to be in right now.

It was a good thing Junkrat had someone as strong as Roadhog around to watch his arse, because he was nothing but dead weight as the other hauled him back onto the sofa. His open hand butted against Roadhog’s broad arm as though he was confused by its presence; he didn’t even seem to register that he’d fallen, let alone been picked back up. Neither the fall nor Roadhog’s efforts to wake him appeared to have any effect on his strange, deep sleep - as evidenced by the way his head lolled atop his neck as he was shaken.

Junkrat, amazingly, still didn’t seem to be awake. Roadhog wasn’t quite sure he was managing it honestly, but his head simply rolled back and forth right up until the lanky blonde leapt went rigid. He shifted slightly to do his best to avoid the blow in the dark. It didn’t hurt much anyway, not with Junkrat in his current sleep-addled state. Roadhog just ached a brow in surprise at the smaller junker desperately trying to reach the door. He had no idea what the hell had provoked this reaction, but there was no way that Junkrat could reach the door like this.

Junkrat seemed, for all his sleep-addled un-coordination, absolutely determined to get away from Roadhog via whatever means possible - his only means being a single, weakly clenched fist, that is. But for better - or very possibly worse - Roadhog’s efforts to wake him, at last appeared to pay off, the heavy-handed shake he gave cutting Junkrat short just as he opened his mouth to slur again; instead of bursting into another half-coherent tirade he jolted in the other’s grasp, mouth hanging open wordlessly as he was finally torn from his deep sleep and his mind struggled to process the situation he found himself in.

Roadhog wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting when Junkrat finally snapped to, but a panicked cry was not it. He actually loosened his in shocked surprise when Junkrat hurled himself back onto the couch, and Roadhog was pretty sure he had been right about the whole nightmare thing. He’d never seen Junkrat look so afraid, not like this. It was then Roadhog realized that the mask probably wasn’t helping, and he tugged it off to reveal his face. Junkrat had only seen it a few times during their time together, but Roadhog supposed this was as good a time as any to make an exception before Junkrat actually got any more panicked about the situation.

Junkrat had pressed himself as far back into the sofa cushions as he could, his eyes darting fitfully around the unfamiliar room in a desperate plea to find something recognizable, something to anchor him. His fight-or-flight response was in overdrive, but his still-reeling mind was unable to make sense of his suroundings, to process what he should do. When Roadhog reached up to remove his mask the movement caught his attention and he flinched instinctively, scrunching his eyes closed and cowering behind his arms.

Mr. Fawkes.

well helloooooo nurse Miss Ms Mercy Zeigler Ziegler

oh fuck

Now that just plain pains me doc. Insinuating I’ve got anythin’ but my cohorts’ colleagues’ best interests at heart - I’ll have you know “safety”’s my middle name!

Hmm well, they’re not the kind that can be described - much more suited to an in-person demonstration, so to speak ;)

oh you cheeky cu

Now now, can’t let the cat out of the bag too soon, can I? There’s a lot to be said for suspense! I’m a firm believer that a good fireworks display can only be fully appreciated after a good, long - one could even say, thorough - build up…

Now what kind of fool would keep a classy dame professional like you waiting ‘too long’? Shame upon ‘em! Not me, that’s for sure! Why, if you were to head to my office right now, I’m sure I could rustle up some “bright lights” as a taster…

Mmmight be! If you can face sullying your pristine doctor’s coat to make the trip through engineering, that is. I promise ya though - it’ll be worth your while! All others will pale in comparison once you’ve had a taste of my… fireworks.

What, me? Never. What ever would our dear colleagues think if they saw their paragon of all things good and pure getting dirty? “Heavens above!!” etc etc

Oh I don’t give a lick what they think of me. My reputation is exactly what I want it to be! But sweet, Merciful Doctor Ziegler - you’re going to spend your precious play time with a filthy junker? Now I’m the one who’s touched!

The Junkers had holed up in a crummy motel as far from the city centre as possible. The day had been spent finalising plans for the heist which had drawn them there, prepping their weapons and explosives; finally, all that had been left to do was get some shut-eye before it was time for shit to go down. The “luxury suite” - there was nothing even homely about it let alone luxurious - consisted of two single beds and a sofa, so Junkrat had left the beds for Roadhog to make the most of and sprawled out on the scratchy, mildewy cushions instead.

The beds weren’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but they were something to sleep on and that was good enough for Roadhog. He’d pushed them together and settled on top of them, and it wasn’t long before the larger junker was asleep. Unlike his companion, Roadhog usually slept for decent stretches of time. But, his sleep was always light. It had to be, when you were surrounded by a less than forgiving environment. Tonight though, sleep had been peaceful, more or less. Right up until he heard a yell come from across the room.

Junkrat didn’t seem to register Roadhog’s approach, indeed didn’t notice him whatsoever until the other’s hoarse voice was sounding beside him; if notice was the right word at all, considering the lack of focus in his lidded gaze as he turned toward him. His mouth was hanging open, muscles lax and slack where he’d been wound tense only moments before. He swallowed and smacked his lips, and his lone hand came up to paw the air between them as though he was grabbing for something.

“What?” Roadhog asked, his brain slowly registering what the hell Junkrat had said to him. “The hell are you-“ He began to ask again, when Junkrat collapsed on the floor. Roadhog silently groaned. It was too early for this. He bent slightly to haul Junkrat off the floor and back onto the couch. Surely he hadn’t imagined the smaller junker yelling like that? Roadhog was pretty sure that he hadn’t. “Rat.” The massive man gave the blonde a decent enough shake to hopefully try and shock Junkrat out of whatever sleep-addled state he seemed to be in right now.

It was a good thing Junkrat had someone as strong as Roadhog around to watch his arse, because he was nothing but dead weight as the other hauled him back onto the sofa. His open hand butted against Roadhog’s broad arm as though he was confused by its presence; he didn’t even seem to register that he’d fallen, let alone been picked back up. Neither the fall nor Roadhog’s efforts to wake him appeared to have any effect on his strange, deep sleep - as evidenced by the way his head lolled atop his neck as he was shaken.

Junkrat, amazingly, still didn’t seem to be awake. Roadhog wasn’t quite sure he was managing it honestly, but his head simply rolled back and forth right up until the lanky blonde leapt went rigid. He shifted slightly to do his best to avoid the blow in the dark. It didn’t hurt much anyway, not with Junkrat in his current sleep-addled state. Roadhog just ached a brow in surprise at the smaller junker desperately trying to reach the door. He had no idea what the hell had provoked this reaction, but there was no way that Junkrat could reach the door like this.

Junkrat seemed, for all his sleep-addled un-coordination, absolutely determined to get away from Roadhog via whatever means possible - his only means being a single, weakly clenched fist, that is. But for better - or very possibly worse - Roadhog's efforts to wake him, at last appeared to pay off, the heavy-handed shake he gave cutting Junkrat short just as he opened his mouth to slur again; instead of bursting into another half-coherent tirade he jolted in the other's grasp, mouth hanging open wordlessly as he was finally torn from his deep sleep and his mind struggled to process the situation he found himself in.

The Junkers had holed up in a crummy motel as far from the city centre as possible. The day had been spent finalising plans for the heist which had drawn them there, prepping their weapons and explosives; finally, all that had been left to do was get some shut-eye before it was time for shit to go down. The “luxury suite” - there was nothing even homely about it let alone luxurious - consisted of two single beds and a sofa, so Junkrat had left the beds for Roadhog to make the most of and sprawled out on the scratchy, mildewy cushions instead.

The beds weren’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but they were something to sleep on and that was good enough for Roadhog. He’d pushed them together and settled on top of them, and it wasn’t long before the larger junker was asleep. Unlike his companion, Roadhog usually slept for decent stretches of time. But, his sleep was always light. It had to be, when you were surrounded by a less than forgiving environment. Tonight though, sleep had been peaceful, more or less. Right up until he heard a yell come from across the room.

Junkrat didn’t seem to register Roadhog’s approach, indeed didn’t notice him whatsoever until the other’s hoarse voice was sounding beside him; if notice was the right word at all, considering the lack of focus in his lidded gaze as he turned toward him. His mouth was hanging open, muscles lax and slack where he’d been wound tense only moments before. He swallowed and smacked his lips, and his lone hand came up to paw the air between them as though he was grabbing for something.

“What?” Roadhog asked, his brain slowly registering what the hell Junkrat had said to him. “The hell are you-“ He began to ask again, when Junkrat collapsed on the floor. Roadhog silently groaned. It was too early for this. He bent slightly to haul Junkrat off the floor and back onto the couch. Surely he hadn’t imagined the smaller junker yelling like that? Roadhog was pretty sure that he hadn’t. “Rat.” The massive man gave the blonde a decent enough shake to hopefully try and shock Junkrat out of whatever sleep-addled state he seemed to be in right now.

It was a good thing Junkrat had someone as strong as Roadhog around to watch his arse, because he was nothing but dead weight as the other hauled him back onto the sofa. His open hand butted against Roadhog’s broad arm as though he was confused by its presence; he didn’t even seem to register that he’d fallen, let alone been picked back up. Neither the fall nor Roadhog’s efforts to wake him appeared to have any effect on his strange, deep sleep - as evidenced by the way his head lolled atop his neck as he was shaken.

Mr. Fawkes.

well helloooooo nurse Miss Ms Mercy Zeigler Ziegler

oh fuck

Now that just plain pains me doc. Insinuating I’ve got anythin’ but my cohorts’ colleagues’ best interests at heart - I’ll have you know “safety”’s my middle name!

Hmm well, they’re not the kind that can be described - much more suited to an in-person demonstration, so to speak ;)

oh you cheeky cu

Now now, can’t let the cat out of the bag too soon, can I? There’s a lot to be said for suspense! I’m a firm believer that a good fireworks display can only be fully appreciated after a good, long - one could even say, thorough - build up…

Now what kind of fool would keep a classy dame professional like you waiting ‘too long’? Shame upon ‘em! Not me, that’s for sure! Why, if you were to head to my office right now, I’m sure I could rustle up some “bright lights” as a taster…

Mmmight be! If you can face sullying your pristine doctor’s coat to make the trip through engineering, that is. I promise ya though - it’ll be worth your while! All others will pale in comparison once you’ve had a taste of my… fireworks.

What, me? Never. What ever would our dear colleagues think if they saw their paragon of all things good and pure getting dirty? “Heavens above!!” etc etc

Mr. Fawkes.

well helloooooo nurse Miss Ms Mercy Zeigler Ziegler

oh fuck

Now that just plain pains me doc. Insinuating I’ve got anythin’ but my cohorts’ colleagues’ best interests at heart - I’ll have you know “safety”’s my middle name!

Hmm well, they’re not the kind that can be described - much more suited to an in-person demonstration, so to speak ;)

oh you cheeky cu

Now now, can’t let the cat out of the bag too soon, can I? There’s a lot to be said for suspense! I’m a firm believer that a good fireworks display can only be fully appreciated after a good, long - one could even say, thorough - build up…

Now what kind of fool would keep a classy dame professional like you waiting ‘too long’? Shame upon ‘em! Not me, that’s for sure! Why, if you were to head to my office right now, I’m sure I could rustle up some “bright lights” as a taster…

Mmmight be! If you can face sullying your pristine doctor’s coat to make the trip through engineering, that is. I promise ya though - it’ll be worth your while! All others will pale in comparison once you’ve had a taste of my... fireworks.

The Junkers had holed up in a crummy motel as far from the city centre as possible. The day had been spent finalising plans for the heist which had drawn them there, prepping their weapons and explosives; finally, all that had been left to do was get some shut-eye before it was time for shit to go down. The “luxury suite” - there was nothing even homely about it let alone luxurious - consisted of two single beds and a sofa, so Junkrat had left the beds for Roadhog to make the most of and sprawled out on the scratchy, mildewy cushions instead.

The beds weren’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but they were something to sleep on and that was good enough for Roadhog. He’d pushed them together and settled on top of them, and it wasn’t long before the larger junker was asleep. Unlike his companion, Roadhog usually slept for decent stretches of time. But, his sleep was always light. It had to be, when you were surrounded by a less than forgiving environment. Tonight though, sleep had been peaceful, more or less. Right up until he heard a yell come from across the room.

Junkrat didn’t seem to register Roadhog’s approach, indeed didn't notice him whatsoever until the other's hoarse voice was sounding beside him; if notice was the right word at all, considering the lack of focus in his lidded gaze as he turned toward him. His mouth was hanging open, muscles lax and slack where he'd been wound tense only moments before. He swallowed and smacked his lips, and his lone hand came up to paw the air between them as though he was grabbing for something.

Mr. Fawkes.

well helloooooo nurse Miss Ms Mercy Zeigler Ziegler

oh fuck

Now that just plain pains me doc. Insinuating I’ve got anythin’ but my cohorts’ colleagues’ best interests at heart - I’ll have you know “safety”’s my middle name!

Hmm well, they’re not the kind that can be described - much more suited to an in-person demonstration, so to speak ;)

oh you cheeky cu

Now now, can’t let the cat out of the bag too soon, can I? There’s a lot to be said for suspense! I’m a firm believer that a good fireworks display can only be fully appreciated after a good, long - one could even say, thorough - build up…

Now what kind of fool would keep a classy dame professional like you waiting ‘too long’? Shame upon ‘em! Not me, that’s for sure! Why, if you were to head to my office right now, I’m sure I could rustle up some “bright lights” as a taster...

Mr. Fawkes.

well helloooooo nurse Miss Ms Mercy Zeigler Ziegler

oh fuck

Now that just plain pains me doc. Insinuating I’ve got anythin’ but my cohorts’ colleagues’ best interests at heart - I’ll have you know “safety”’s my middle name!

Hmm well, they’re not the kind that can be described - much more suited to an in-person demonstration, so to speak ;)

oh you cheeky cu

Now now, can’t let the cat out of the bag too soon, can I? There’s a lot to be said for suspense! I’m a firm believer that a good fireworks display can only be fully appreciated after a good, long - one could even say, thorough - build up...

Mr. Fawkes.

well helloooooo nurse Miss Ms Mercy Zeigler Ziegler

oh fuck

Now that just plain pains me doc. Insinuating I’ve got anythin’ but my cohorts’ colleagues’ best interests at heart - I’ll have you know “safety”’s my middle name!

Hmm well, they’re not the kind that can be described - much more suited to an in-person demonstration, so to speak ;)

oh you cheeky cu

Mr. Fawkes.

well helloooooo nurse Miss Ms Mercy Zeigler Ziegler

oh fuck

Now that just plain pains me doc. Insinuating I’ve got anythin’ but my cohorts’ colleagues’ best interests at heart - I’ll have you know “safety”’s my middle name!

Hmm well, they’re not the kind that can be described - much more suited to an in-person demonstration, so to speak ;)