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“Junkrat, are you alright?” Mercy asked worriedly. The Junkers had come back from their first official mission at Overwatch and the smaller Junker was limping more than usual, though the woman couldn’t see any visible wounds on the man.
“…’m foine. Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He said quietly. Mercy automatically knew something was wrong then, but the Junker had pushed past her and was already walking down the hallway. His limp was worse than ever, and she could hear grunts with each step.
Roadhog came up behind her silently. She turned to him and shot him a questioning look. She couldn’t see his face through his mask, but he shrugged and shook his head a little. The larger Junker followed after Junkrat, his large footsteps echoing through the hall.
Mercy bit her lip, unsure of what to do. She had work piling up already but her charges came first. She sighed and tried to think of a way to get the younger man to cooperate.
“Ya called fa me?” Junkrat poked his head into Mercy’s makeshift doctor’s office. She straightened and smiled, hoping her plan would work.
“Hello Jamison. Could you sit on the table for me? I just want to check something, if it’s alright with you.” She made it sound like a suggestion, and it seemed to get through to him. He bobbed his head and went to sit, his limp even worse, seeming to favor his left side.
“Wotcha need Doc?” He asked, his large eye flitting around like a caged animal.
“I was hoping you would let me check your prosthetics.” She said, noting how he recoiled slightly.
“Eh, I don’t think there’s anythin’ that needs to be checked.” He said, bouncing his good foot quickly.
“Humor me?” Mercy tried, giving him her best angel face. She could see the conflict in his eyes and she wasn’t sure he would agree. A moment later he reluctantly relented.
“Go ahead Sheila. Jus’ be careful. I made everythin’ maself and I dun wanna have ta fix anythin’.” He looked to the side and left his right side open. She moved in and started examining his arm. It was just as she feared.
“You might not like this next request,” She looked up at him, and he frowned at her. He narrowed his eyes a little but let her continue. “Could you remove your arm? Just for a moment. I want to make sure everything is okay underneath.”
“I don’ take off my arm for no one,” He said gruffly, placing his flesh hand on his metal arm almost as if he was protecting himself from something. “Ain’t no one seen me without my arm otha than Roadie.”
“Please Jamison?” Mercy asked, practically begging. Junkrat started fidgeting, trying to avoid eye contact. “I just want to help you.” He broke, sighing and grimacing as he started to unlatch the prosthetic. Mercy didn’t realize just how complicated the arm was, though she mused it would have had to be in order for him to move the fingers in the way he did.
The arm slid off and Junkrat placed it on the table next to him. Mercy winced as she saw the stub where his arm used to be.
There was more there than she originally thought, the limb ending right below the elbow rather than right above. The skin, however, was a nightmare. The scars were purple and raised – evidence of infection. The places the arm touched the skin was rubbed raw, certain placed rubbed so roughly it started to bleed. Some of the rubs had started to swell, and the smell of infection filled the area.
Junkrat stared at the tiles on the floor as if he knew his arm had gotten so bad.
Mercy got to work, gently wiping the limb down with disinfectant and medication, muttering apologizes every time the man cursed under his breath. As she was cleaning the wounds, she asked to see his leg as well.
“I don’ think it’ll be needed…” He said, practically whimpering. The infection, now cleaned away, made his skin taunt and red. Mercy started wrapping it in bandages in order to heal and prevent further infection. When she gave him a pointed look, he hunched his shoulders and unlatched the peg leg. This prosthetic was a lot easier to remove. The metal fell to the ground with a metallic crash.
His leg was even worse, the wear and tear of the skin much more extensive. Mercy could see blood dried on the inside of the peg leg, and it was crusting on the scarred end of the limb. Pus and infection bubbled over, giving the skin a greenish color.
“Jamison, how long has your leg been hurting you?” She asked as she got to work cleaning his leg.
“Doesn’t ‘urt that badly.” He grumbled, looking away.
“Jamison, I saw how you were limping. When was the last time you removed them for cleaning?” She asked, keeping her tone neutral so as not to scare the Junker away.
“I take ‘em off ta bathe,” He said, cursing loudly as she cleaned a particularly deep rip in the inflamed skin. “B-but I haven’t taken them off since comin’ ‘ere. Don’t trust everyone enough ta be that ‘elpless around them.” Mercy slathered the limb in something that should hopefully speed up the healing process and started wrapping it the same as the arm.
“Well, if that’s how you feel, you’re really not going to like this,” She said, focusing on her work. Junkrat made a noise in the back of his throat but didn’t say anything. “You’re going to have to keep the prosthetics off for a few days so the infection and swelling can go down.”
“Wot!?” Junkrat practically roared, trying to pull his leg away from the woman. He didn’t count on her being stronger than she looked, and was unable to actually pull away.
“Doctor’s orders Jamison. If you behave and allow yourself to recover, you can get them back on your feet sooner.” She said, throwing away the soiled rags into the medical trashcan.
“B-but… I won’ be able ta go anywhere!” He protested frantically. Mercy stood and went to a cabinet, pulling out a folded wheelchair.
“I have this just for this kind of situation,” She clicked it open and helped the man settle in, flicking down one of the footrests. “I’ll call Roadhog in to help you around. The more you cooperate, the sooner things can go back to normal.”
Junkrat didn’t say anything as he tried to gather his prosthetics on his lap. Mercy placed a hand on his remaining arm and took the limbs back.
“Oi, gimmie back my bits!” He fought, not much of a threat with one arm.
“I’m just going to clean them a little. If you put them back on while dirty you may get another infection and we’ll have to go through this all again.” She said, watching the defeat in his eyes as he relinquished his hold on the metal limbs.
Roadhog came in, pausing as he saw the smaller Junker trapped in the wheel chair, looking more vulnerable than ever.
“We have to make sure the infections are taken care of before he can be back on his feet.” Mercy explained. Roadhog kept his face towards Junkrat the whole time, the stoic Junker nodding slightly.
“Look at the’ pickle I’ve gotten myself inta,” Junkrat gave a weak chuckle. “Weak as ‘ell and ‘elpless to boot.”
“Jamison, you aren’t weak nor are you helpless. You are an Overwatch Hero who is taking care of himself after a mission. You’re not the only one who’s had to leave a prosthetic limb behind for a time in order to heal properly. It’s tough for everyone, but it’s for the best,” She knelt in front of the wheelchair and placed a hand on his knee. “We’re going to support you all the way.”
Something was placed onto Junkrat’s lap. The smaller man stared down at the leather pig mask in his hand. He twisted around and looked up at Roadhog, who had a faint smile on his face. Even
Mercy seemed shocked that the man had removed his mask.
“I’ll keep if off as long as you’re in this chair.” He said simply, his voice so much clearer without the mask in the way. Junkrat’s eyes filled with tears at the gesture, hugging the mask to his chest as he sniffled pathetically.
“Come on Jamison, it’s almost dinner time. They have your favorite.” The man said, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair and headed towards the door. Mercy stopped the man with a dainty hand on his large man.
“Thank you Roadhog.” She said with a smile. He smiled back, and she was thrilled to see little dimples appear. Roadhog turned and left the office and Mercy moved to the table. With a sigh, she got to work disinfecting the limbs.
“Hello young Junkrat!” Reinhardt boomed as the two walked into the mess hall. Not many people were there, but all eyes were on Junkrat instantly.
“G-g’day Reinhardt.” Junkrat gave a loud giggle and an awkward smile, fidgeting with the mask on his lap.
“And hello to you, my friend! It is rare to see you without your piggy mask!” Reinhardt said, smacking the other tank on the shoulder.
“Good to see you too. Glad you didn’t get too injured on the mission.” Roadhog said, rolling Junkrat towards the food. Because he was sitting, Junkrat couldn’t actually reach the food. Roadhog started piling up a plate for his boss.
“It seems our fiery friend didn’t escape unscathed.” Reinhardt commented, staring down at the man in the chair.
“I’m foine.” Junkrat said with a twitching grin, staring at his lap.
“Looks like Miss Angela did a wonderful job patching you up.” He said, grinning his usual grin and grabbing a drink. “She is one of the best medics I have ever encountered in my many years of battle.”
Roadhog helped roll Junkrat to the table, placing the plate in front of him.
“Look mate, ya don’t have ta tiptoe around wotcha thinking.” Junkrat interjected sourly, scowling and picking at his dinner. Reinhardt looked at him, shocked.
“Tiptoe around what?” He asked, genuinely confused about what the Junker was talking about.
“Around th’ fact I’m all weak and vulnerable!” he slammed his fist on the table. Reinhardt was silent, watching as the younger man let his trembling fist fall to his lap. The older man realized what was going on with his companions and felt sadness build in his chest.
“Young Junkrat, there is nothing weak about healing,” He said, placing a large hand on the back of the small man. “I was blinded many, many years ago and I had to keep both eyes bandaged for many weeks. I was completely stranded. It made me feel weak and pathetic and helpless, but when I was able to see again I realized my strength never left me.”
“I’m vulnerable,” The youngest man spit, images of those left exposed flashing through his mind. Dirty bodies, slashed and looted and discarded. He shook his head to clear the thoughts in his head. “I don’ eva wont ta be vulnerable again.”
“Nothing here will hurt you child.” Reinhardt knew what Junkrat was feeling, and wished there was more he could do to help the younger man.
“I’m not ‘ungry anymore Roadie.” Junkrat murmured, pushing his plate away. Roadhog stood and started to wheel him away.
“Do not let this take away your fighting spirit!” Reinhardt called after him, smiling when he saw the smaller Junker wave over his shoulder.
“Hey guys!” D.va knocked on the door of the room the Junkers shared. Roadhog went over and opened the door looking down at the small girl smiling up at him. Her jaw dropped when she saw he wasn’t wearing his mask. “Whoah you look so badass without your mask!”
“Did you need something?” Roadhog asked, trying to keep a smirk off his face. She shut her mouth with a snap and starting bouncing from foot to foot.
“I was wondering if you guys wanted to hang out! I got some early release games and I thought you guys would like some of them.”
“Want to Jamie?” Roadhog turned and asked his companion, who was still in the room. D.va tried to look around the large Junker, but his bulk was blocking her view completely.
“Nah,” the other said from inside the room. D.va thought he sounded tired. “Dun wanna go out.”
“Are you alright Junkrat?” She asked, scrunching her eyebrows with concern.
“Don’t worry Sheila. ‘m foine.” He gave a giggle but it sounded forced.
“No one’s seen you in two days.” D.va said, trying to make a solid argument. She heard a sound from in the room and Roadhog left the doorframe. D.va ducked into the room and was quickly met with a sight she never thought she would see.
Junkrat was fresh out of the bath, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead. His usually bright grin nowhere to be found. He had dark circles under his eyes that made his whole face look gaunt. Another thing that she noticed was the bright white bandages wrapped around the stubs where his arm and leg used to be.
“Just tired.” He said, using his one good hand to wheel the chair forward a little.
“Why have you been hiding?” She planted her hands on her hips.
“I ‘aven’t been ‘iding!” He shot back, leaning forward and hunching his shoulders.
“Then why do you look like you haven’t slept in a week?”
“I can’t sleep without my arm ‘n leg,” He said, subdued. “Eva since that crack doc took my limbs I haven’ been able ta get a wink a sleep.”
“Why did she take your arm and leg?” D.va asked, tilting her head to the side a little.
“Got an infection cuz I neva took ‘em off.” He said, practically pouting. D.va frowned and made up her mind.
“That’s it. Come on you whiner you’re coming out.” She said, nodded to herself and turning to Roadhog, who had already moved to take the handles of the wheelchair.
“Oi I ain’t goin’ out anywhere-” Junkrat tried to say, but when the chair started moving he fell back and shut up. D.va had never seen the man look so dejected.
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” She smiled and took his hand in hers. When the made it to the game room, everyone cheered.
“Hey! Junkrat you made it!”
“Glad to see you got them out of hiding.”
“Roadhog took his mask off?”
“Come on, you can have first game.”
Junkrat was shocked. No one looked down on him for being crippled. No one tried to take advantage of him or attack him. He stared at the controller on his lap as if it would bite him. He looked up when Roadhog placed a hand on his shoulder and offered him a warm smile – something that the small Junker was just starting to get used to. The older man almost never smiled back in Australia, even when he took his mask off.
“Come on Junkrat,” D.va grinned at him. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He blushed and felt a grin light up his face.
“Here you go Junkrat,” Mercy handed the Junker his arm and leg. “I made a few adjustments that will hopefully prevent this from happening again, as long as you keep up personal care.”
“Wotcha do to them?” He asked, starting to strap them on.
“I added padding to the inside to keep from rubbing.” She said, checking to make use everything still fit and worked correctly. Within moments, Junkrat was back on his feet, jumping about and crowing about the splendid adjustments made. He kicked his legs up in a bell and stamped his feet with a squeal. He was practically glowing.
“Ya made it so much betta!” He crowed, grinning from ear to ear. “It don’ ‘urt at all!”
“That’s what I thought,” She gave him a smile. “When I saw that the metal rubbed against your skin directly, I just knew that was the main source of your problems.” Junkrat hugged Mercy tightly and picked her up, spinning her around.
“Thank ya Sheila!” He felt his eyes burning, but he turned around before she could see his misty eyes. Roadhog had heard the noise and came to check and found himself being grabbed by the smaller man in another tight hug. “Look Roadie! She fixed it and it don’ ‘urt at all!”
“That’s good to hear. I know they’ve been bothering you for a few years now.” He said gently. Junkrat’s smile dimmed considerably. Roadhog looked at him, confused.
“Ya gonna putcha mask back on now, ain’tcha?” Junkrat asked his friend. Roadhog was confused. Did his companion really care that much if he wore his mask?
“I won’t if you don’t want me to.” He said, watching the smaller’s face light up again. “There’s no real point wearing it in the base anyway.”
“Hooley dooley it’s loike Christmas in ‘ere!” Junkrat danced, his peg leg making his jig look more like a seizure, but he was happy either way.