Work Text:
You look around the med bay one last time to make everything is in place before you leave. The last thing you want to do have Dr Ziegler mad at you. Especially since she is taking to your professors about the possibility of your last practicum of your master’s degree being with Overwatch. You smile to yourself at the thought, everyone has been so nice to you so far, and you’re really liking the work. Even if you feel like Dr Ziegler is giving you little pop quizzes all the time. You feel the vibrations of your phone in your pocket it, pulling it out you notice there are several text messages from you best friend and your partner. Looking through the messages from your best friend first, your heart drops. There was a picture of your partner, kissing another girl.
As if on cue, your phone lights up with an incoming call from them. With a deep breath, you pray that your voice will hold. The last thing you want to do is cause a scene in the hallway, “Hi”.
“Hi babe,” answered the voice on the other side of the phone, “Are you miserable up there without me? I bet Overwatch isn’t even that interesting.”
You can hear the bitterness in his voice and can’t help but think “What does he have to be bitter about? I’m being loyal to him.” With a sigh, you answer him, “I’m actually having a great time up here, everything is amazing. It’s a state of the art facility and Dr Ziegler has been so nice.” You hear a voice in the background but can’t make out what they are saying.
“That’s nice dear,” they say dismissingly, “The hospital is great. They’ve offered me the chance to do my residency here. I’m going to take it, you should apply too. That way we can be together. I miss you,” They would almost sound sincere to you if there wasn’t a barely concealed breathless moan at the end, “Besides Y/N we both know you don’t have what it takes to be a medic at Overwatch. Anyone could tell their agents how to recover, they don’t need a physical medicine and rehabilitation student to come on board.”
You feel tears start to peak at your eyes and duck into an empty training room. You don’t know what hurt more, the fact that your partner was cheating on you while on the phone with you or that he still couldn’t remember what you were studying. The goal was to compose yourself, but instead you fall apart, “You know what, it’s bad enough to can’t be bothered to remember what your partner of seven months is studying, it’s worst that you’ve been cheating on me, it’s even worse that you’re cheating on me while on the phone with me!” You can hear your voice becoming more and more shrill with each passing second.
Instead of a defence or anything a logical person would reply with after being confronted all you hear through the phone is a moan, which is followed by “What can I say babe¸ you aren’t here. Anyways, this isn’t working out babe. It was fun while it lasted.”
The line went dead, and you couldn’t help it anymore, you leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor. Resting your head on your knees you start to cry.
“They’re an idiot you know?”
You jump up, dragging your arm across your face, “Pardon?” You shakenly ask, looking around the room for the source of the voice. You don’t find it right away, but you do notice drops of blood on the floor.
“Whoever you were on the phone with,” replied the voice, “They’re an idiot for what he did.” Following the blood trail, it leads you to the bathroom. The door is ajar, so you push it open and find Roadhog pressing the paper towel against his hand, “You’re Y/N, right? I’ve seen in my Saturday morning boot camp.”
You stare wide eyes at him and aren’t sure what to think right now. Why was he in here? How did he get hurt? Why not go see Dr Ziegler? With an outward calm, you don’t really feel you say, “Let me see.”
“Nope.”
“C'mon, I need to see if a trip to the med bay is needed. Let me see the wound Roadhog.” Your voice brooks no arguments and he slowly held his hand out to you. You fight the urge to pump your fist into the air. You take away the blood-soaked paper towel and are greeted with a gash across his palm, “This is going to need stitches. Should I go find Dr Ziegler?”
“I know but no need to go find the good Doctor. I can do it myself,” you raise your eyebrow at him and frown, “Or since you seem to disapprove of my plan, you can do it. You wouldn’t be her student if she didn’t think you capable.” He states sitting down on the toilet.
You stare at him with your hands on your hips before sighing, “I guess will,” You turn away to grab the first aid kit from the wall. You rummaged around until you find what you’re looking for, setting it all out on the counter. “Disinfectant, gloves, cotton balls, and a stitch kit,” you say under your breath, turning to face him, “This might sting a little.”
You wait until he nods in acknowledgement, “Who was the jerk on the phone?”
“That was my now former partner. We were dating for about a year and today, well you heard, he’s cheating on me.” You pause to examine the cut, “He is the one who found out Overwatch was recruiting students for a semester. The plan was to apply and get in together. We both applied, I got in, he didn’t. I think that is where the trouble really started. I’m going to start stitching it up now.”
“I still maintain they’re an idiot,” said Roadhog shifting in place, “Want me to get Junkrat and we go teach them some manners?” His laugh booms in the tiny bathroom. It’s a very pleasant sound you think; you weren’t expecting someone so large to have such a melodious laugh. “If I’m going to sit here while you stitch me up, the last you can do is engage in some small talk. Like what are you studying in school and why are you in my boot camp every Saturday, you already know how to fight and don’t have to run the obstacle course again.”
You can tell that he is trying to put you at ease, “Well I do have a background in neurology and physical medicine and rehabilitation it’s not my primary field of study. That would be Sports Medicine with a side passion of neuromuscular medicine. I’m pretty sure that is why I’m here, it makes me a little more interesting.” You feel him flinch as you pull the string tight, “As for the boot camp, why not? I go to Pharah’s yoga class afterwards and it never hurts to stay in shape.” You tell him, finishing the last stitch on his hand, tying it off.
You sit there silently as he examines your work, “You do good work kid.” You feel a blush creeping up your face at his praise, “Let me buy you a drink.”
He walks out of the training room and you follow him down to the bar on base. Junkrat waves him over and you follow him, sending out a silent pray you dressed somewhat nicely under your lab coat, “I wondered where you got to Hog, who’s your friend?”
You smile and wave towards the table, “Guys this is Y/N. They helped me out with something, so I figured I'd buy them a drink. Y/N these are the guys.” He sits down and holds up to fingers to the bartender who brings you each over a pint.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” you say taking a drink from your pint.
Roadhog takes a deep swing from his pint and leads forward, his voice low and menacing when he speaks, “Okay Jamison, I need your help teaching someone some manners.” He pauses to make sure he has his attention and you take a long pull of your pint, “Y/N here has a cheating ex-partner, who I think needs to learn some manners.”
You resist the urge to facepalm and instead order another round for the table. Grateful for the friends you’ve made today.