Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey, Roadie?”

Roadhog’s filters released the sound Junkrat had long since come to acknowledge as an exasperated sigh. Which meant there was soon to be an annoyed response soon to come.

“Yeah?” was the gravelly mumble he received, proving him right once again.

“What are we doin’ ‘ere again?”

Another sigh.

“We’re watching the highway in case any Talon enforcements pass through, remember?”

Junkrat was silent for a moment and stared into the distance, eyes focusing on the lush stretches of tropical rainforest beyond Numbani’s skyline. But Roadhog knew better. Staring off was just a thing he did when he got bored. And when you were sitting on a bridge above a bustling motorway of nondescript black and white cars, getting bored was sure as hell a problem.

“Nah, not really.”

Roadhog decided to avoid looking at his employer any longer under the risk that he might not have been able to avoid throttling him.

“That’s ‘cos you weren’t listening, Rat. Morrison stuck us up here to keep an eye out while they’re getting’ rid of their advance squad in the city centre. If any extra troops do come along, we’ll be able to warn ‘em so they ain’t ambushed.”

“But why?” Junkrat practically shrieked, spreading his arms outwards in a show of indignation. “Me talents are bein’ wasted ‘ere, Roadie! Why would they want me up ‘ere and out of the way?”

“Can’t possibly imagine” Roadhog remarked bluntly, wondering whether he was going to have another headache by the time they got back to base.

“’S’actly!” Junkrat continued to rant, oblivious to the sarcasm, “Gimme a bomb or five and I could blow ‘em all to smithereens! There’d be no bloody need for that Omnic monk fella to be around, killin’ ‘em with peace or whatever! Just chuck me something explosive and bang –“he fluttered his fingers, miming an explosion, “- problem solved!”

Roadhog peered over the edge of the bridge as a passer-by nervously tried to squeeze past him from behind. He paid the guy no attention, instead briefly entertaining the idea of whether he could shove Jamison off the railing and make it look like an accident.

“Honestly, who’s balls am I gonna have to fondle to get me some action? For a group of bloody heroes, we sure don’t get a whole lotta trust!”

Now he was just running on fumes. Roadhog decided it was high time he tuned out as usual and went back to randomly grunting at whatever the scrawnier man said.

A sudden, high-pitched noise drifted into his ears. Oh God, now he was giggling again. He’d just gotten him to stop fifteen minutes ago.

“McCree used to be a right proper outlaw, right? Bet he’s got a smooth pair of criminals down under, eh?”

He continued to aimlessly giggle at his own joke.

“Geddit, Roadie? ‘Cos he used to be a bandit and the two smooth criminals are euphemisms for-“
“Yeah, I got it” Roadhog decided to speak up, not wanting to hear the innuendo explained in lengthy detail. Still, props to Jamison for knowing what the term “euphemism” even meant.

“All I’m sayin’ is, why can’t they let us head off over there? ‘Cos ya know, Mei’s over there and…”
“’Course she is.”

Just like that, Junkrat instantly fired up.

“Alright mate, I get ya. No need to be getting’ so snarky. She hates me guts, yeah, but that’s just a bit of a kink I’m sure I’ll iron out soon. She’s amazin’ though, honestly.”

“You’ve told me.”

“So cute and fluffy and even canny dangerous. Man, I just wanna-“

“An’ I’ve just said you’ve already told me. About sixty thousand times.”

“But seriously mate, how do I look? Ready for some lovin’?” he asked, flashing his most shit-eating grin and smoothing down his blonde, unkempt hair. The moment he removed his mechanical hand, it shot back up again.

“Keep your eyes on the cars, Rat. Not the girl.”

Surprisingly enough, there wasn’t even that much of an initial reply except a grumble deep enough to rival his own.

“Ya no fun Roadie, ya know that?”

Roadhog decided to not even dignify that with an answer.

“Fine. Whatever. Just tryin’ to make small talk while we’re sitting up ‘ere. Alone. Bored. Gawkin’ at cars like a couple of hobos with nothin’ to blow up and no…bad guys…to kill…”

His whinging slowly trailed off. And when Junkrat trailed off, you knew something was up. Roadhog walked up behind him to see what had caught his attention.

A convoy of armoured black jeeps were crusading down the highway, honking at cars up ahead and swerving others out of the way. All the while, a single black helicopter flew along overhead, keeping a watchful eye over the crusading brigade as they slowly drew closer to the bridge.

“Could you look any more conspicuous if you wanted?” Roadhog couldn’t help but mutter to himself. And there he was thinking Talon was meant to be a secret organisation.

“Uh?” piped up his companion.

“Nothin’.”

Junkrat shrugged and wedged his peg leg into the iron railings, using it as a support as he climbed his way onto the top of the railings.

“Hey, Roadie. Think I can land on top of one of them jeeps as they pass underneath, mate?”

“I’d advise against it.”

“Yeah well, I don’t pay ya to advise,” he paused, that familiar face of sudden confusion flitting across his features, “Why’d I even ask ya in the first place?”

“’Cos if you miss, you’ll simply fall from fifty feet and end up a red smear on the bloody road.”

“Nah, that ain’t it,” he replied, stroking his chain and grinding his teeth. An expression Roadhog had since regarded as his “thinking face”. A private joke of his own due to how it looked like a wild hyena trying to figure out how to stick its head in the toilet. Then that stupid smile he’d come to hate returned. “Ah, well. Last one down’s a rotten egg!”

And without another word, he dived backwards off the railings and plummeted downwards, heading straight for the jeeps that Roadhog hadn’t even realised were that close yet. He allowed himself a third sigh.

“Sometimes it just feels like I’m babysittin’ here…”

*

Widowmaker sat in the back of her luxury jeep, enjoying the feel of one of the leather-clad seats. Enjoyment wasn’t something she was accustomed to feeling and she therefore knew that whatever made her feel this way, it was worth it. She turned to look at the trooper in the opposite passenger seat and the two in the front. All of them fidgeting. Nervous. Even she had to admit that the news from the museum wasn’t good. Thanks to that idiot Reyes, they’d failed to steal the gauntlet and now an entire armed escort was necessary to get past the UN’s appointed defences.

Not to mention Overwatch were bound to poke their large noses where they didn’t belong.

She sighed and lay back, once again going through the ritual process of detaching herself from all feeling and focusing only on the potential targets. Maybe this time she’d even be able to put a bullet through that annoying Tracer girl’s head…the thought itself almost made her smile. Not altogether an unwelcome feeling, but yet again quite an uncommon one to be sure.

She huffed through her nostrils and opened her piercing green eyes just in time to see a dirty, shirtless blur seemingly fall from the sky and straight through the skylight of the car ahead of theirs.

Chapter Text

Morrison often spent weeks at a time training Junkrat and Roadhog on hand-to-hand combat techniques when they’d first joined up. The two of them had always scoffed at this – what with having come from the Outback, where the only ones who didn’t know hand-to-hand combat were the dead – yet if a lecture on what to do when suddenly stuck in a car with four angry Talon agents had ever come up, Junkrat had definitely chosen a bad time not to listen.

After having smashed through the skylight rather than landing on the roof of the jeep as he had predicted, he’d landed perfectly in the back middle seat, which was a bit of an achievement in itself. The sad thing was that he’d had little to no time to celebrate before the rest of the car’s occupants, most likely staring in shock from behind the black visors of their helmets, scrambled for their guns and started drawing knives from their armour pockets.

The driver kept his eyes on the road and shouted instructions to the other three, as the one on Junkrat’s left lunged at him, blade in hand. Junkrat managed to grab his arm before it landed, pulling it tight and twisting at the wrist. The guy yelled as his upper arm bent with a muffled crack, causing him to drop the weapon and let it fall into Junkrat’s hand, who then used it to stab the leg of the guy on his right. Both recoiled from the pain long enough to let Junkrat smash the left guy’s head off the window and stab him in the chest with a broken glass fragment.

Once he was confident the guy was no longer moving anymore, he turned fast enough to see the right guy forcefully trying to remove his seatbelt as he pulled the knife out of his thigh. Without thinking twice, he punched the guy once, not too heavily, across the face, temporarily stunning him and allowing the pyromaniac time to take control of the single leather strap. Wrapping it around the guy’s neck and pulling it taunt, he kicked open the door and shoved the man with all his might. With a singular choking sound, the guy flew out, being dragged along the highway by the neck and causing multiple other Talon transports to start honking at them in alarm and confusion.

The driver, who had obviously just realised that his two buddies in the back weren’t awake and most likely not breathing anymore, slammed his foot on the accelerator. The wind whipped through the open door, cutting through Junkrat like a knife, but he paid it no heed and sat forward, attempting to take the guy in the passenger seat by surprise.

Then he realised what the driver had been up to the moment he looked down at his feet.

Shit.

The driver slammed on the brakes, the sudden stop causing a jeep behind them to go smashing into the back, sending Junkrat flying forwards and causing him to smash his head off the radio. Everything went fuzzy for a second, as the bloke in the passenger seat moved his arm behind his back, slowly pulling out a sharp grey mass. A single laser pistol, making a signature clicking sound as the safety was deactivated and it was aimed at his head, ready to liquefy his brain – not bloody likely.

Just as the barrel lit up and the laser began its travel outwards, he managed to grab the arm holding it and turn it towards the driver. The beam plunged a hole into the driver’s leg, causing him to scream suddenly and release his hold on the pedals. Using the distraction to his advantage, Junkrat swiftly reached across and plunged his bionic arm onto the acceleration pedal again, while holding the guy’s gun back with his organic.

The engine roared and wind billowed through the smashed windows as –

“Ahem.”

*

A sharp cough from the Judge interrupted Junkrat’s entire recounting of the event. He craned his neck towards the man’s chair, trying to ignore the way his own seemed to slice his arse open.

“Yeah?”

“I am currently finding this version of events hard to follow, Mister Fawkes. You say that after having thrown yourself off a bridge-“

“To get the terrorists, aye.”

“-you landed perfectly inside one of their cars and subsequently managed to destroy their entire convoy?”

“Uh…”

He quickly turned to look at his two associates at the defense table. Mei was mouthing the word no as subtly as possible, whereas Roadhog just sat with his head in his hands.

“Can I get my lawyer to handle this?”

“You do not have a lawyer, Mister Fawkes. This is a simple matter of whether or not you are responsible for the amount of damage dealt to our city.”

“Yeah, well…that kinda depends on what damage ya talkin’ ‘bout.”

“This so-called terrorist convoy of yours lost control as it entered the city centre, promptly swerving off in random directions and causing thousands of dollars worth of destruction to numerous buildings.”

“Well, I mean, they weren’t that important…”

“One of them was an orphanage.”

“Alright, well most o’ them weren’t that important…”

“Mister Fawkes,” the judge said, with an air of finality that indicated that he was now using the last reserves of his patience, “if you do not give sufficient reason, evidence or help to explain just how this event occurred, I will sentence you here and now.”

“Oh!” Junkrat grinned, realisation dawning on his features,” I never knew I could name names!”

He threw a mechanical finger towards the defense table.

“See the big guy in the gas mask there? He masterminded the whole thing!”

There were murmurings from the other Overwatch agents in the courtroom, whom were seated in the back, though most were thankfully of disbelief. Roadhog, in all honesty, was too bored to be thrown by his employer shoving him under the bus. Jamison and the judge had been going at it for over two hours now, with Jamison changing the story each time as it slowly grew more and more dramatic.

In reality, the youth had landed on the windshield of one of the jeeps. The driver got quite the shock, to say the least, resulting in him losing control and swerving into the side of a building once the vehicle had screeched a few hundred yards into the city outskirts. The other jeeps behind tried to avoid the sudden wreck, resulting in each one taking obscure paths and eventually smashing each other all over the place like they were in a pinball machine – hence more smashed cars and semi-destroyed buildings. Luckily, no civilians were hurt (though Roadhog was pretty sure he’d heard someone crying out about a broken leg amidst the rubble once he’d got down from the bridge), though this didn’t stop Mei from running over from her own designated lookout post and giving Junkrat a piece of her mind via the usual “you-are-a-no-good-piece-of-scum” monologue that he could swear she’d probably memorised by now. The best thing he could say about the whole experience was that the lecture was cut short when they were arrested and brought to the courthouse for an impromptu trial.

The judge banged his gavel for silence.

“Mister Rutledge?” he began, the measure slowly returning to his tone. He obviously thought that they were now getting somewhere. Big mistake. “Do you have any response to your colleague’s allegations?”

Roadhog murmured slightly. You could only just hear, “I’d like to go up to the podium and talk to him, please” amidst it.

The judge nodded. “You may. Tell me when you are ready to continue.”

Roadhog stood up, causing Mei to release a light eep as his stomach knocked the table forward slightly. He strolled calmly over to the defendant’s podium, where Junkrat was now sitting with his legs across the edge, an eyebrow raised. He observed the scene for a few more minutes.

Then, without warning, his meaty fists shot out and grabbed the younger Junker around the neck before throttling him.

The surrounding agents began to shout suddenly, whilst the judge banged his gavel again whilst making some angry noise of his own. Roadhog paid them no attention, instead opting to shake his employer’s head with every press on his windpipe.

“Tell ‘em what really happened. Now” he growled, not letting go despite his target’s face slowly growing more and more purple.

“You - are the – worst - bodyguard – ever!” Junkrat managed through his garbled chokes, before two policemen managed to reach the front of the court and pointed their guns at him. Roadhog gradually let go, promising himself to savour that sweet, sweet thirty second period forever.

He never managed to see whether what he’d told the idiot had sunk in, as the judge had obviously reached the end of his tether.

“I’ve seen enough!” the aged man roared, the volume of his speech at levels of someone much younger than he was. “Mister Fawkes! Mister Rutledge! Miss Zhou!”

Mei had clearly been hoping that her name would be left out of it, but proceeded to stand up from her chair with a defeated sigh and slight tears in her eyes.

“For property damage, contempt of court and gross misconduct, you each share a single punishment amongst you. If you have any issues, then thank your friend here for wasting everyone’s time. I hereby sentence all three of you idiots-“

Mei spared Junkrat a single, hateful glare, her eyes slightly red-rimmed. It was the first time Roadhog had seen Junkrat’s shit-eating grin slide off his face all day.

“-to a month’s community service!”

No. No.

He’d expected a few weeks in prison, but this – this was - at least people had separate cells in prison! He was now going to have to spend God knows how long with the giggling idiot and the mouthy woman.

Roadhog huffed to himself tiredly, ignoring the disappointed look on Winston’s face as the other Overwatch agents and the rest of the court began to file out.

The kid had better keep his trap closed if they were expected to be litter-picking together, because otherwise the community officers might end up finding a mutilated, rat-like body inside one of their bin bags.

Chapter Text

Roadhog scratched at the reindeer antlers attached to his head and tried his best not to fidget as the felt made his scalp itch. Numbani’s mall was one of the biggest in the country, meaning there was no shortage of small children, unfortunately. They were now beginning week two of their community service, already worn out from the sheer number of overexcited pre-schoolers wanting to enter Santa’s grotto. All they’d been given after the sentence had been passed was a set of ridiculous costumes, a trio of designated officers to follow them everywhere and a weak slap on the back from Winston as the rest of the agents left to fight injustice elsewhere in the world.

“Stay frosty, troops!” Morrison had called out to them as the airship took off, obviously fighting the urge to laugh at their new getup. Roadhog had since made a mental note to hide his heart medication once their sentence was over and they were allowed to go back to Gibraltar.

The grotto set was cheaply-made, designed for busy shoppers who wanted nothing more than to shut their young up for longer than two minutes. Roadhog and Mei had the job of standing around the outside, dressed as a reindeer and an elf respectively, to occasionally wave and invite the odd family to join the line. At least, that was the idea. Roadhog found that standing stock-still and making the odd grunting noise often did wonders for keeping the length of the queue down.

And sat half-asleep in the plastic chair within the grotto was Junkrat, the light from the fake fire in front of him lulling him into a trance as a three year old pent up on candy canes and chocolate bars nattered on and on.

“An’ I wanna Playstation 7, an Xbox 720, an Overwatch action figure-“

A speck of drool was forming in the corner of Junkrat’s mouth, running down the front of his ridiculously fluffy red coat. It was obviously high time that someone woke him up as otherwise the kid would be there until next Christmas.

Roadhog stomped over, not bothering to try and sneak up. Jamison had since eaten all the cookies that were meant to be given out to the children, meaning he was in no fit shape to start running, regardless of whether there was someone on his knee or not. A well-aimed smack to the back of the head and Jamison sat up instantly, his eyes snapping open as he tried to locate his attacker.

The child, on the other hand, barely even flinched, instead continuing to list off his desired gifts for the year.

“-an’ a toy rocket ship, an’ a pet budgie, an’ a-“

Junkrat looked at Roadhog. Roadhog looked at Junkrat. This continued for several more seconds as the ever-growing queue finally caught the younger man’s attention. He nodded and grimaced slightly as he began to cotton on.

“-an’ a paintball gun, an’ a new sled, an’ a-“

“Listen kid, that’s great an’ all,” Junkrat finally spoke up, not disguising his accent whatsoever, “but them are all things ya want. Santa Claus ‘ere gives ya the things ya need.”

Roadhog decided not to intervene yet, wondering whether his partner was actually going somewhere with this.

“Like the gift of manhood.” Junkrat continued, popping open his coat to reveal soot-covered abdominal muscles.

Never mind.

The mothers and fathers in the crowd gasped, some opting to cover their young children’s eyes. You could see the sudden red shade on Mei’s face all the way at the back of the line, making it fairly obvious that she wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow her up there and then.

“What the hell are you doing with my son?” shouted out one of the men in the crowd, most likely the boy’s guardian. Roadhog had to hand it to him, his kid seemed tough – not many people could look directly at Junkrat’s semi-naked body and not be traumatised for life.

But risking a lawsuit for psychological damages seemingly wasn’t enough for Junkrat as he gently propped the kid off of his knee and stood up from his chair, testing a crick in his back.

“Now watch as ol’ Saint Nick ‘imself gives ya dad over ‘ere a real good kick up the arse!”

“Yay?”

*

“You need to get us out of here, Winston.” Mei hissed into the receiver of the mall’s payphone, ignoring the glare her designated officer was boring into the back of her head. “This is the fifth fight Jamison has instigated with a member of the public and if it carries on, we’re never going to be let go!”

“I honestly wish I could help,” came Winston’s reply, parts of it occasionally drowned out by gunfire on the other end of the receiver, “but we’re having a big spot of bother in Venice right now. Talon has taken over one of our old hideaways and are turning our own technology against us. It’s going to be at least another few weeks until we can finish up here and then get back to try and appeal to the courts.”

Mei slowly put her head against the cool metal of the booth, trying her best to numb the impending headache.

“How did Jamison get put into such a leading position in the first place?” the ape’s voice piped up, sounding genuinely curious despite the numerous explosions and cries of pain that echoed across the line.

“We each had to pick a costume, and Jamison decided it best to fight over who got to be Santa.”

She rolled back the sleeve on her green shirt, seeing how much the bite and claw marks had faded by now. Only by a little bit, yet that was the only good news she’d had so far all day.

Ceaseless shrieking from a few metres away caught her attention. Junkrat was on his front, held down to the ground by the other two officers as they shouted at him to behave. The unfortunate man was being helped back up onto his feet by his wife, sporting a bruised cheek and a heavily bleeding nose.

“What?” she could vaguely hear the filthy criminal bellowing, “If a kid’s that spoilt, then ya know it’s the fault ‘a the parent! Beat it outta them when they’re young, know what I mean?”

“I’ve got to go Winston,” she huffed into the receiver, only just realising how annoyed she’d become by such childish behaviour, “I’ll sort this out.”

“Of course, Mei, we’ll be right back – ouch! – we’ll be right back as soon as possible, don’t you worry!”

Mei was far from worrying as she slammed down the phone and advanced towards the squirming mass on the floor, somehow managing to part a crowd despite not having to ask anyone to move. Her anger seemed to radiate from her like gamma waves as she motioned to the officers to let him up, which they automatically did so without question. It seemed not even they were the least bit bothered about whether Jamison was throttled again.

“Listen,” she hissed, looking the Junker directly in the eye, both of which widened slightly and focused on her, “you are not ruining Christmas for these children, nor – hey!”

She stopped abruptly as he noticed his eyes wander slightly downwards towards her cleavage. They immediately sprang back up, the look in them confirming her suspicions, which she responded to with a few choice swear words in Mandarin before carrying on.

“-nor are you putting their parents in the hospital! Take that outfit off now!”

“Alright darl, you asked for it,” he drawled, moving his mechanical hand slowly towards his belt as he shakily got onto his knees, “I’m warnin’ ya though, not everyone’s ready to witness my massive-“

She slapped a hand over his mouth.

“In a changing room, obviously!” The last thing she needed was him further exposing himself to these minors. “I’ll be the Santa, you be the elf! Now stop acting so immaturely - we’re doing this job, whether you like it or not!”

“Oh yeah?” Jamison leered, scraping himself up off the floor to tower over her. “An’ what are you gonna do ‘bout it?”

*

“You deserved that.” Roadhog said simply, after the situation had died down and everything went back to normal. As normal as things could be with Junkrat around, but regardless.

His employer simply rubbed his shining black eye, muttering something darkly under his breath. For being so cute and cuddly, that Sheila sure had one hell of a mean right hook. He shot a dark glare from the one eye he could properly see out of, directly towards the young woman, who looked tired but happy as she talked and occasionally laughed with the children that came over.

“Look at her, all chatty n’ shit” he seethed, pushing away the pom-pom of his elf hat like it had insulted his mother, “talkin’ to those snotty kids. Who in the blue blazes does that?”

“Someone with social skills, presumably.”

“Damn right, Roadie!” he replied, proving once again that he wasn’t actually listening to what his bodyguard responded with, “No-one! An’ to punch me across the face an’ all – me, the dangerous Junkrat! Me looks will be ruined!”

“Tragic.”

“If ya ask me, someone oughta come in ‘ere right now and show ‘er what’s what! Give ‘er a drubbin’, see how she likes it! One fist, right across that nose. That cute, lil’…nose.”

A tremendous amount of willpower was required for Roadhog to avoid rolling his eyes behind the mask. It looked like the smaller man was back in hopeless-romantic territory again. He scanned the room through its blurry lenses to see if there was anything that could offer a distraction from the inevitable ramblings. Mei had just given a present to the last child in the line for the time being and she was now hunched over a seemingly empty sack by her chair. Good enough.

“I’m gonna see if she needs any help” he grumbled, “Try not to attack anyone while I’m gone, yeah?”

Junkrat stop mid-rant to nod in his direction.

“Hey, maybe ya right!” he spouted, “Maybe I oughta shave me armpits. All women love a clean bloke.”

Deciding that was as close to an “okay” as he was ever going to receive, the larger Junker walked up to Mei, who spared him quite the smile, all things considered.

“Hello, Mister Rutledge!” she beamed. Maybe the excitement and happiness of the children was rubbing off on her. Or, more likely, she was ecstatic upon realising how easy it was to pummel Junkrat into submission. “I’m afraid we’re having a bit of an issue here. No more gifts to give out for today, seeing as how…”

She vaguely shifted her head in Junkrat’s direction, unwilling to say his name lest it spoil her good mood. Roadhog could still see him out of the corner of his eye, locked in his one-sided discussion and seemingly unaware that he was now alone. Still, he hadn’t leaped on anyone yet, so that was a good sign.

“…since the cookies have all been eaten.”

“Is it gonna be a problem?” he asked, surprising himself slightly due to the genuine amount of concern he had for her temporary happiness.

“It might look a bit strange if all the other children receive presents and the next ones to come along don’t, so…yes, I think it might be. Especially if parents end up complaining, because then we’ll end up in even further trouble with management and ergo the court.”

It couldn’t be any more transparent that she actually meant Junkrat will be in even further trouble with management. One thing Roadhog could never wrap his head around was how despite her revulsion towards the young man, she still had his best interests in heart.

“Right,” he huffed, motioning to the trio of officers, “I’ll see if one of these bricks over ‘ere will let me head over to the baker’s and see if there’s anythin’ there. Tell me if a certain brat annoys ya too much. I’ll happily straighten ‘im out.”

Mei smiled politely, opening her mouth to respond, when –

The wall behind them blew apart in a shower of dust and rubble, only giving Roadhog a split second to grab the woman in his arms and block the brunt of the force with his back. She gave a slight shriek in his arms as the cheap grotto set collapsed around them, crushing the chair she’d only just been sitting on.

Roadhog rubbed the particles of grime that had coated his lenses as the surrounding civilians fled the mall screaming, children in hand and shopping flying along behind them.

A tall, skinny man stepped through the gaping hole in the wall, with…no. Not a man. No human male had such pointed ears and thick black horns jutting from the front of their skulls. A short beard, thick and bushy, was thrown into stark contrast by glinting emerald eyes. It almost looked like…

Oh God, no.

 It looked like an older Junkrat.

Roadhog had never really believed in the existence of a god, but he was fairly certain that someone up on high was having a good laugh at his expense right now. The figure removed its filthy Santa hood, before throwing his head back and screeching loud enough to awaken Junkrat from his semi-stupor.

“I am Krampus!” it bellowed. It even sounded a bit like him. “And I am here for your children!”

Roadhog manoeuvred his masks filter towards Mei’s ear as she slowly began to extract herself from his grip.

“Quick question,” he wheezed, “do ya think we’ll be in more trouble for the cookies or for the half-goat maniac that just busted through the wall?”