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Chapter Text

Mako gazed out over the seemingly endless wasteland. Was this really what Australia had become?

This used to be something beautiful; something thriving with life and passion. Now it was a harsh and desolate plain, which stretched on further than legs could ever take you.

He sighed, staring down at the scrap heap in which he sat upon. Mako was watching the sunset like usual, though he didn't find much joy in it, as he did anything. It just meant another useless day had passed.

As the sky began to darken, the vast man began climbing steadily off the pile of scraps, making unnecessary caution not to injure himself. A cut wouldn't matter, although the sting would be frustrating.

Placing his feet on the ground once again, Mako clapped and rubbed his hands together, dusting off any dirt which had covered his palms. He gently placed his mask back onto his face; a face that very few have seen...

...

Leaving the junkyard; he winced and glanced around, trying to spot any movement in the darkness. There was nothing. He proceeded to walk back through town, heading towards his old shack of a home.

Just about everybody lived in slums here. It was a pretty huge place if he had to be honest. The town was built like a box, with houses stacked on top of each other. With many stories and balconies and alleyways. All of which, consisted of metal, tin, some wood, and... maybe even bricks.

Mako passed a corner and continued to try and make his way back home. He lived on one of the higher stories, so he needed to find his way up that wasn't just a rusty ladder.

While heading across the littered street, he heard something that pricked his attention. Mako paused his movement and turned his head slightly to watch one of those berserk junkers being thrown out of a pub. They made a grunt as they hit the ground face first.

"If I ever see your filthy rat face in my bar again, I will blow out your brains! Got it?!"

An underweight, scrawny man rolled onto his back, face bruised and bashed.

"G..-got it.. sir." he wheezed.

The door was slammed shut, trapping most of Mako's light source in there with it.

Stuff like this happened often. It was harsh, but it's what they grew up with. Mako pressed on until he stopped again; looking over to the man on the ground as he slowly tried to crawl up onto his feet. He coughed and gripped a pipe connected to the outside wall of the pub. He used that to lift himself up, exposing most of his body through one of the pub windows.

His shirtless back was bruised and scratched up, some dry blood was trailed down his quite bony spine.

Mako took a deep breath and considered helping him out. Although, on the other hand, it was really none of his business. That man could've been touching up a young girl, or maybe he started a fight...

Relentlessly, his empathy took over his logic and Mako slowly started to walk towards the skinny, bashed-up guy.

The scraggy chap stared up at him, eyes full of fascination. Well, Mako was fairly tall, even compared to this supposedly 6'5 lad.

"Whadda ya want, ya old geezer?" he coughed out weakly; leaning on the wall for support.

Mako put out his hand, offering to help.

That's when the other backed up suddenly, fumbling around his pockets.

"I-I don't have anything!" He stuttered in panic. "Please- Please mate!! Give me a week or two!"

Mako rolled his eyes underneath the mask, despite strangely feeling embarrassed more than anything. He took his hand back, not knowing what to say.

"I-I can get you anything you want!! Honest!"

Of course he was lying. That might've even been the reason why he was beat up so bad.. Making promises he can't keep.

-Wait...

The younger man didn't have a right arm... It was a mechanical prosthetic! ...Which seemed to end at his elbow. It was very well made, but with a scratched-up, orange paint job; Mako couldn't help but stare in awe towards it.

The thinner gent felt confused and scared; waiting to be hit or shot or...

Mako was silent.

'Wonder how that happened...' he thought.

The other man was still shaking, feeling threatened by this... well at least 7-foot beast!

Although, before he could say anything, words suddenly slipped out of Mako's mouth:

"...Are you okay...?" he asked.

Mako's voice was deep, and muffled by the mask. Whilst it was vaguely comforting, a sense of fear still stood inside the shorter fellow. Even though the question appeared genuine, the cavernous voice sounded rather... threatening in a way...

At just about any moment, the larger man could just pull out his gun from behind- and boom.. no more.

"..' fine," the other responded weakly. A mutter was all that was heard.

. . .

"Speak up."

The gaunt man raised his head, staring up at Mako's mask.

"I... I said I was fine."

'Was or... is..?'

Mako decided to keep quiet; not wanting to annoy or bother him.

Another pause...

"Uhm... so uh.."

The scrawny lad almost began to limp away, not until the much vaster man put his arm out to stop him.

He was missing his leg as well?! What was up with this guy...? Except, instead of an incredibly made prosthetic, it was just a peg-leg.. Not even a shoe on it, or anything... Mako didn't know what to do; he could hand him some water and just go home.. bring him home to clean up or..- Mako was suddenly cut from his thoughts.

"Bloody oke, what is it?" The man regretted his tone, but he had other things to worry about at the moment. He needed to get home, and this hulk wasn't letting 'im!

Mako, however, was caught slightly off guard, he hunched down a bit, trying to make the skinnier lad feel less threatened.

"You're..- Are you sure?"

The smaller man avoided eye contact, feeling.. almost ashamed, and quite frankly embarrassed that somebody was showing concern for him. It was something he wasn't used to... and shouldn't get used to! 

"J-just lemme get home, ya drongo!" The insult felt forced as it came out, and most likely sounded forced too.

However, this man was way larger than he was, and could easily snap him like a twig.. But... why did he appear perturbed for him? He seemed genuinely worried, and it was pretty confusing.

Well- Mako knew he was pushing it, and was most definitely making this man uncomfortable, but he couldn't just leave him... Not when he was this vulnerable.. weak.. And injured nevertheless!

His lip was busted from believably a punch to the face. His messed up, blond hair had obviously been pulled and tugged at. A few minor cuts were on his left forearm, already starting to scar it seemed, (must have been from a few days ago). There was also a really red part of his face; just above the cheekbone.. where it looked to be forming a bruise.

...Ouch.

This scrawny little guy was a complete mess; nose and mouth covered with dry blood.

Mako mentally slapped himself for what he was about to ask...

"...Do you need help to walk home?"

The shorter man's face scrunched with denial.

"Do I look like a bloody cretin?" Surprisingly, this was followed by a giggle.

'Well, the bloody part is correct,' Mako thought, stepping back to let the other waddle past.

"I.. I don't..." He trailed off, reluctantly sighing and turning back around to face Mako.

"Argh... well- promise you won't stab the shit outa me?"

Mako held in a chuckle, grinning behind his mask. "Alright."

...

There wasn't much conversation on the walk there, although that Junker kid sure knew how to spew out nonsense. He'd just go on 'n on about random crap, which honestly annoyed Mako a bit, but he decided not to interrupt anyway.

Eventually, the two had arrived at what was thought to be the thinner man's slum. It looked just as tarnished as they came. They both stood outside, on ground level; staring at the poorly made shack before looking back to one another.

"Welp, here we are!"

The skinnier fellow took a few steps forwards, about to head inside before turning on his heel to face Mako once more.

"Thanks, by the way.."

Mako nodded as a response.

"Also... Ja-..uh Junkrat. That's my name."

Well, obviously that wasn't his real name, but that's not the kinda thing you just freely give out to strangers, especially in a post-apocalyptic place like this. Mako grinned behind his mask, before deciding to make some kind of reply.

"Roadhog."

Junkrat smiled. "Alright, Roadie, cya 'round."

He shut the door to his shack and Mako paced his way back home.

...

After what felt like a slower walk than usual, Mako ultimately found himself back home. The old, wooden door made a disturbing creek as it was opened.

On the other side of the compacted room, there was a small window, which brought in little light from the moon outside. Mako took a couple of steps forward, the door whining out again as it shut behind him. His home wasn't much, but it's all he could get his paws on in a time such as this.

On his left; in the back corner was a widened single bed. The frame was home-made; an old, busted-up mattress lay over it. The bed was covered with Mako's quilt blanket; a blanket in which his great grandparents had once made.

After the Omnic Crisis, most of his and his family's possessions had been destroyed. Thankfully, this quilt was in a fixable condition, so Mako had stitched it back together, (noting how difficult it was with such broad hands).

He grazed his fingers along the torn & aged fabric, thinking back to when it was full of life.. and colour... Yes, he had to admit even before Australia rebelled against the Omnics, it was slightly faded, but that was due to time and nothing more.

Mako untied his mask and laid it on the ground. The stars were always nicer to look at like this, regardless of how faint they were now. 

Mako remembered being in his twenties.. He didn't have to wear the mask back then, as there was no need to. There was no need to hide his face from others, no need to intimidate others, no need to.. to...

. . .

Things would never go back to how they were before. This was home now; nothing could change that.

He considered sleeping it off...

Sleeping what off? It's not like this whole Omnic attack was new news, it happened decades ago. And it wasn't like Mako was still adjusting or anything.. it was more like.. reflecting back to the past.

It was something he knew he a did a little too often, but he found it difficult to stop comparing. Instead, Mako decided to make himself a meal.

He walked towards the right side of the room, opening one of the cupboards to pull out a loaf of bread. He grabbed a slightly rusted knife from the table and cut off a slice.

This was meal enough.

Mako sat himself back down, his thoughts trailing to that 'Junkrat' kid. He was loud.. and pretty annoying. His scars told Mako that maybe he'd ran his mouth off a little too much... and most likely to the wrong kind of people at that.

During the one-sided conversation on the way to his shack, Mako recalled some kind of joke about Junkrat loosing his leg. Apparently it was due to a malfunction in his... rip-tire?

Mako had no idea what this 'rip-tire' was.. Junkrat hadn't really described it either; he was too busy jumping from one subject to another that he didn't even care to explain himself.

He sighed, looking back up to the window. Why did a part of Mako even care about the safety of this.. random, bothersome little man..? He wasn't going to last long in his condition anyway..

After finishing his.. rather pathetic excuse for a supper, Mako decided maybe it was an appropriate time to try and get some rest. Dragging off the rest of his gear, he laid onto his bed, staring at the ceiling until he in due course, fell to sleep.

Chapter Text

The next few days were anything but eventful. Mako still sat on the same old scrap heap every evening, watching the sun set. But now, he wasn't always thinking of how dreadful this world was; he just kept thinking about that scrawny fella. Mako even found himself walking near his shack every once and awhile, subconsciously making sure it wasn't ransacked or something.

He had no reason to give a shit about Junkrat, they hadn't even seen each other in person since that night.

Maybe this was what Mako needed; a companion of sorts.. Just somebody to talk to.

Sure, he rarely had a chat with One-eyed, the local weapon maker, but it was always brief, and discussing business.

Mako found himself lonely; isolated from the rest of the world.. and that's how he wanted it. Well, how he.. thought he wanted it.

But after that encounter with the lanky Junker, it almost felt like something clicked inside him. Something he'd never confess or tell himself verbally, but something that told him he wanted a friend.

. . .

Friend...?

The word was strange, as Mako didn't enjoy the sound of it.

All his old friends.. they were surely lamented, but the feeling of missing them had almost left his body up until recently. As much as Mako reflected and thought about the past, it hurt just a little too much to think of his friends. So instead he had just repressed all his old memories of them, until eventually, they faded.

Mako could barely even recall what they looked like... it had been just under thirty years since he'd seen their faces...

He did, however, remember Oliver. Oliver had been one of his closest friends, they were basically brothers. The young man had had fair and pale skin, with grey eyes and wavy blond hair. Mako remembered doing just about everything with him.. They'd even done a couple crimes together. Nothing major though, just spray-painting fences & stealing beers when they were fifteen.

Mako chuckled, wondering if that piggy Ollie drew was still there.. Which was unlikely...

They'd done the graffiti in a Melbourne suburb; he couldn't figure out the name, but it was a rough area. Even if the homeowner was bothered to get it painted over, or cleaned off, Melbourne was one of the main targets in Australia for the Omnic Crisis.
Most of Victoria was in pieces; an unliveable place. That's why majority of the survivors created 'Junkertown', far off into the outback.

His smile slowly dropped...

...Mako remembered running as fast as he could, sprinting to Oliver's house.. The lifeless bodies scattered across the street. The screaming getting cut off by gunshots.. The house was set ablaze. Mako had cried out in panic, screaming to someone who was already lost to the flames.

He had dropped to the ground, clutching the dirt and grass in front of him. That day, he had been so close to a fire, feeling nothing but cold..

For once, in a long time.. Mako felt himself cry; a tear.. slowly making it's way down his cheek. He let it roll, continuing to watch the sun lower before him.

. . .

Suddenly- the sound of crashing tin came from behind him. Mako flinched, jerking his head around to see what it was.

Looking down from the trash pile he saw a person, tall but hunching, staring down at the mess they just made. Large pieces of tin and wood scattered across the ground. Mako picked up a faint 'Shit!' from over their way as the person kneeled down & began digging through the pile of junk.

Not long after, they picked up some kind of plastic pole, but quickly discarded it after seeing a more flexible one, most likely made out of rubber or something.

To be frank, Mako wasn't sure why he was suddenly taking interest into whatever that person was doing. He sat there for a few minutes, just watching.

Everything about this person's posture.. and just overall appearance seemed vaguely familiar to Mako..

Could it be Junkrat?

Mako decided it probably wasn't best to approach them until he knew for sure. After all, there were hundreds of people living in Junkertown, and not all of them were the friendliest..

Wait- what was he saying? Mako himself was one of the most dangerous people living here. Whoever that person was down there, they could just snap like a little stick under the hands of Mako.. there was no need to worry, not that he even was, anyway.

The way the person limped after they got up to walk around the pile... Nevermind, that was definitely Junkrat. The vaster man swiftly tied his mask back on. He briefly switched his gaze to the sunset before turning around once more.

Climbing down the scrap heap never felt as loud as it did then.. and somehow, the lankier junker had no clue of his surroundings. Mako seemed to be taking too much notice in Junkrat's reaction to pay attention to what he was actually doing; resulting in a sharp pain suddenly stinging in his hand.

"Argh-!" he blurted out abruptly, staring daggers at a [now bloody] piece of tin.

This seemed to be the thing that finally got Junkrat's attention; Mako watched as he perked up, briskly turning to face the scrap heap on the other side of the junkyard.

"Who's there?!" he called out, wincing to try and get a better look.

The sun was almost set, making it difficult to spot anything other than silhouettes.

Mako quickly looked down, making sure he was at a close distance from the ground before jumping. He stared at his hand, watching blood start to drip off the edge.

"Shit..." he muttered.

He looked back up to Junkrat, who was beginning to back up fearfully.

"S-stay right where you are!" he stammered, almost tripping backwards in the process.

Ignoring his words, Mako stepped forward, revealing himself in the light that was left. Junkrat's shoulders seemed to drop instantly with relief. He sighed aloud, wiping a mix of sweat and dust off of his brow.

"Oh.." he breathed. "It's just you.."

Mako shook his head disapprovingly, letting out a half-annoyed sigh while doing so.
Junkrat was stupid. He never seemed to have any weapons on him. Well, on that giant rant he did mention something about having a dagger in his pocket, but most people here have guns.. and rat boy didn't appear to be the type to have much skill with knives.

"Heya Roadie!" he called out. He waved his non-mechanical arm around in the air.

Mako returned this with a small wave, before walking over to Junkrat's side of the scrap yard.

"Hey," he spoke dryly.

Junkrat was looking way better than he did last week. Besides for the scarring and some darkened bruises, that is. His limp was still pretty bad, but to be fair the guy was missing a leg.

He had placed his hands on his hips, obviously attempting to hide his pain. Mako noticed a subtle twitch in the other man's right eye. Despite his cheerful attitude and posture, Junkrat appeared kind of tired. The kind where you'd scull about four coffees in one night and get up the next morning with those incredibly dark bags...

Minus the incredibly dark bags, that is.

Well, the thing is with Junkrat is that his face was always so dirty. There seemed to be this everlasting muck coating his forehead; Mako understood that water sources in Junkertown were limited, but it seemed like he'd never taken a bath in his life. (Which... let's be fair, he probably hasn't)

So those could've been bags, or some kind of dirt... or.. both?

Mako blinked, seeming to snap back to reality. Junkrat had started to rant about his 'new invention', which was supposed to be some kind of bomb shooter..? Yeah, the name was a bit of a work in progress..
Mako assumed he was talking about a launcher that shot out frags or something..

Junkrat and him appeared to have something in common; they were both overthinkers. The only difference was that one kept it inside his head, where the other didn't know how to.

Sure, sharing information about his new project was interesting, but he'd mention one detail, then tell a whole story about this one detail. Similar to how an elderly person would speak.

...

The two had spent the next half an hour sorting through the scraps. Junkrat continued blabbing on, even after Mako had told him to shut up at least 3 times. It was super hard to see, especially with his mask on. Mako found himself holding random pieces in the air, trying to see the silhouette from the moonlight, even if it was super cloudy.

Eventually, they decided what they had gathered was enough, and yet again, Mako was walking Junkrat back to his home.

"You've seemed to memorize the way here," Junkrat pointed out.

Mako felt a small ting of embarrassment; he didn't realise until now how he was practically leading the way. He was a few feet ahead, and Junkrat was hobbling behind, dragging his sack of scraps along the dirt with him.

Without warning, Mako took the sack from him and heaved it over his shoulder.

Junkrat exhaled with relief. "Thanks mate," he said.

Mako nodded. "...No problem."

The reply seemed to be a surprise for the thin Junker, he lifted his head up to look at Mako and smiled.
Mako smiled back, even though no one could see it.

...

There was a strong sense of déjà vu standing outside of Junkrat's shack. Mako paused in his tracks, causing the other man to do the same.

"You comin' in or what?"

Mako turned to look down at the young man, who in return just blinked in confusion, awaiting a response.

'How is he so trusting?' thought Mako. 'All I did was not kill him that one night..'

He mentally sighed. Yes, there was possibility to build a friendship here, but Junkrat was far too gullible, and that was the kind of thing that'd lead him to his death.

Mako couldn't lose anyone else...

He thought for a moment. It felt like he stood there for at least five minutes, but realistically, it was only a couple seconds.

Reluctantly, Mako stepped forward, slowly inhaling and exhaling through his nose.

Junkrat's home had everything in the one room. By 'everything', it was only working benches, than a mattress on the floor in the corner.

Just like Mako's; the slum was very poorly built. There was holes and gaps everywhere in the walls. The floor was surprisingly cemented, with heaps of random paint and blood stains covering it, especially close to the longest workbench.

"Just over here," said the thinner man, directing Mako over towards the smaller bench.

Mako dropped the bag down, looking at the walls in front of him. The desk and wall ahead were covered with papers and assembly directions. In the middle of the desk were these heavy-looking spheres. They were red, with white crosses painted on them.

"Careful," Junkrat began, sliding to Mako's side of the room. "These babies are the amo for my launcher!"

He picked one up, gently observing it in his hand before slowly placing it back down on the bench.

Mako turned to Junkrat, who in return just seemed to stare back. The younger man blinked a couple times, seeming to space out of reality for a moment. He shook his head, and limped towards a chair next to the longer desk. Mako stood still, watching him sit down.

A couple minutes seem to pass, in this somewhat comfortable silence. Should Mako had left by now? Junkrat seemed like the kind of fella to just kick somebody out, or to make excuses on why they should leave. He was a manipulator; not a good one, but he tried.

Mako sighed, and placed a seat on the concrete ground. In the corner of his eye he swore he saw Junkrat smile, almost relieved that he was staying.

'Here we go..' thought Mako, facing Junkrat as he began to rant again.

The older man remembered the first time they had this kind of 'conversation'; Junkrat would make weak, but large hand gestures, and briefly flick his eyes over to Mako's direction, keeping them mostly on his hands.

Now, for some reason, the two held eye contact. Even on their second encounter they were already warming up to one-another. It was.. well obviously abnormal, especially in a place like this. But maybe it was fear that kept Mako out of danger..

No, it couldn't. As threatening as Mako appeared, the younger man still seemed a bit.. comfortable. He wasn't tensed up as much, his smile was wider, his voice wasn't...

. . .

He had stopped talking.

Chapter Text

. . .

He had stopped talking..?

Mako looked back to Junkrat, realizing that he had let himself space out.

'He asked me a question..?' the older man thought.

Junkrat just waited, head tilted to one side like a pup.

Mako's mind finally processed what the other lad had said.

"I've been here for about twenty-seven years," he replied.

Junkrat nodded, suddenly switching his gaze to the ground.

"Twenty-seven?! That's longer than I've been alive.." He chuckled, then proceeded to leisurely lift his head up once more, setting his eyes back on at Mako's mask. "..Heh.. so how old are you anyway?"

Mako paused for a second with a sliver of hesitation. "Forty-eight."

Junkrat's eyes widened slightly as he turned away once again. He had muttered something; probably a 'woah', or 'okay', Mako assumed.

The two carried on with their conversation; speaking of their past and the life they'd had in Junkertown. Mako didn't get too in detail when he mentioned life before the Omnic Crisis, but that was for obvious reasons.

. . .

..Junkrat wasn't even born when it started... he probably had no idea what life was like.

That man was... well- crazy to say the least, but knew what he was doing when it came to his inventions.

As Junkrat began to rant on about his mech-arm, Mako noticed how he was speaking slightly quicker now.. How he went from excitedly bouncing his knee, to his body practically shaking... How his eyes refused to stare towards Mako..

Unlike his leg, the loss of his right arm was not due to an explosive. It had something to do with a deal he made with this 'gang'. The more he continued to speak about it, the more anxious he seemed to become. It was almost like he couldn't stop himself; just going further on about what had happened, about the promises he broke..
It felt so awkward, and out of character for him to be acting like this. Almost like he was... retelling his trauma?
It was strange. His tone sounded so chill with the subject [asides the reoccurring gasps].. but at the same time, there seemed to be some kind of uneasiness, acting as a que he wanted to be stopped.

"So ah.. ha-ha. They just.. y'know..." he made a slicing motion with his mech-hand, landing it harshly onto his left thigh.

'How is this kid still alive?' thought Mako. 'And who are these people? ..Are they still after him..?'

Junkrat scratched the back of his neck, taking a shaky breath. He knew how exposed he was, and that just made it worse. He felt overheated, like he was wearing a million sweaters, but also as if he was freezing to death, out in the middle of nowhere. It was becoming hard to breathe steadily. The junker began trailing off with his speech, trying to calm his lungs.

"Okay, okay..." he started muttering to himself, panting softly while still trying to re-catch his breath.

Mako felt out of place somehow.. Like he was just a spectator on everything. And right now, he technically was. He used this as some kind of excuse to leave. He slowly began to step up; glancing at the door on the other side of the room. Mako had definitely overstayed his visit, at least, that's what he told himself. But just as he took the door knob into his hand, there was an overwhelming sense of wrong. He stared at the dry blood from the gash on his palm. Focusing on it seemed to bring the pain back.

He turned around, observing as the young man stood. He bent down, clutching the table with his left hand. He breathed heavier and heavier. Mako watched sweat start to roll down his face as the other began sinking to the floor.

"F-fuc-" he panted, gripping at his chest as his knees hit the ground.

'Holy shit-'

Mako hurried over to Junkrat, sitting him up and trying to get him into a steady breathing pattern.

There were... tears.

Were they from the retelling; being overwhelmed with a memory he couldn't stop himself from sharing..? It could be just a large mix, a brew of overheating, painful memories, self doubting and so forth.. The feeling was awful, and Mako knew this. He'd gone through the same thing before.

A panic attack.

The tears could've also been from embarrassment. What right person would want to experience that kind of situation? ..Especially in front of a half-stranger.

Junkrat began coughing violently, the other trying to support his sitting. Mako heard sputtered apologies from under Rat's breath.

"No." Mako grunted. "No- stop talking. Just focus on your breathing."

Junkrat took in a shaky breath, but started coughing again straight after. The tears kept streaming down his now-red face; eventually seeming to get calmer. The coughing stopped after a few minutes, and the breathing was becoming easier, even through all the sniffling and shakiness.

They both sat there for awhile, the sky outside becoming darker, and the streets becoming emptier. Mako let his mind wonder..

During the day was when most weapon and food traders were available. Also when mech-battles took place, because as dramatic as the night was, what's entertainment if you can't see it? A few lit torches wouldn't do much..

There hadn't been a decent, and official brawl in a good three months. Mako wondered if they'd start them back up again soon, especially after the absence of 'The Terror of Dawn' [also known as 'Fantom'].

Yes, the intentional misspell bugged Mako; as stupid as it was.

That's when he felt the smaller junker shift his seating. How long had they been sitting like this..? So close to one another.. The odd comfortness was something neither of the two had felt in a long time. Though, that was obvious though, wasn't it?

Junkrat stared at the ground, ashamed. Ashamed in himself for letting this happen; for letting his braindead mouth blabber on about something genuinely hard to talk about while trying to keep his composure.
It didn't feel like him. Crying or panicking wasn't a common or recurring action for Junkrat. Of course it was a natural human thing and all that, but he'd usually be too blind and oblivious to consider his real emotions. Any kind of self doubt was pushed aside, he wanted to believe he was superior.

And somehow, in that aloof mind of his, he was.

But there he sat, eyes still puffed and red, dried lines of tears staining his face, breathing finally calmed, and right next to a bloody stranger.
..Stranger for the most part, at least.

...

"Oi Roads,"

There was no response.

"What time do you think it is?"

"...Late."

Junkrat stood, walking over to peer out of the small, moderately cracked window.

"Well it's not close to morning, that's for sure."

Roadhog shifted himself on the mattress the two had been sitting on.

"Aren't you tired?"

"Huh?" the younger man turned his head around.

"Well, from the sounds of it, you've been on that frag launcher all day."

Junkrat flicked his hand around. "Nah, nah, I'm right." he turned around fully and leant his back on the wall, picking up a small piece of steel and playing with it in his hands. "And well, yeah. While I have been all over this new project, I've gotta few naps here and there."

Mako slowly shook his head. "What have you been eating?"

The other wiped some muck off his face, observing his palm then shrugging.

"Haven't really; not in awhile.." he placed the steel back onto the bench.

"When was the last time?" Mako frowned.

Junkrat made eye-contact, feeling almost.. guilty? "About two-three days ago."

The both of them suddenly starting speaking over each other, Rat insisting that he was fine, and Roadhog sounding like a worried mother.

Out of nowhere, Mako stood up. Junkrat followed him outside the shack, hobbling on his peg-leg, almost feeling at the walls for direction.

"You'll die with how much you lack," the vaster man grunted. "Without food or proper sleep, your body will become weaker than it already is."

Junkrat pouted, annoyed. "I know that, whadda you think I am, mate? Banged in the head?"

"Come with me, then."

The two paced on, no verbal response coming from the smaller junker as he rolled his eyes.

...

Soon enough, they found themselves walking through the main bar and food part of town. A few moments later, passing the same pub that they met each other at.

Junkrat paused, glancing at the dried blood which laid upon one of the external pipes of the building. His insides turned as he read the sign above him.

Mako had also paused, frowning at the entry door as the memory came back to him. The rat had been half dead... wonder how he managed to heal most of his wounds since then.

As the two pressed on, it was almost like Junkrat read his mind.

"The food I had.. I traded it to get med-stuff.."

Mako turned his head to look at him.

"..Ya know, like bandages 'n crap."

He nodded, just now [with the help of street lights] noticing all of the poorly-wrapped gauzes on his lower-leg. There was also a bit of dressing on his left shoulder joint. Under all the dirt on his face, you could just barely make out the bruise right above his cheekbone.

'Oof.. poor bugger.'

He seemed to be walking alright though, asides for the obvious lack of a right leg, (and the evident limp that came with it).

...

The tavern Mako had found was an all-night one, with reasonably loud music and decent lighting. It was one of those cheap ones, but with surprisingly edible food. The two took their seats on a small wooden table near the back corner of the room.

Mako grinned at Junkrat's amusement; the boy gazed in awe across the bar, soaking into every detail, but still leaning back in his chair, attempting to hold the 'tough' persona.

"I haven't been down here before," he spoke. "The place isn't bad.."

Mako shrugged lightly. "You look like this is the first pub you've ever been in."

"Eh, don't usually go to 'em." He leaned back in his chair once again, a squeaking noise coming from it.

Mako momentarily turned his head over to the bar, where 3-5 people were chatting and enjoying some drinks together.

"Why were you at that tavern the other day, then?" he questioned.

Junkrat scrunched his face, frowning. "Dealing," he muttered.

Mako seemed to have raised an eyebrow. He kept silent, though.

Not long later, a red-haired woman, dressed in ripped, skin-tight clothing approached them. With belts with ammo strapped across her hips and over her chest from her shoulders. She held a small, stained notepad, and also a pen, which she was impatiently clicking as her stared daggers into both the men's eyes.

"What will it be?" she asked tiredly, and with an obvious hint of annoyance.

"Just a water for now," said Mako, turning to Junkrat.

The rangy male quickly spazzed his eyes in every direction before replying.

"U-uh, yes. The same.. just.. some water, please.." Muttering the last part, he let out an awkward chuckle.
He must have been caught off guard while in thought, 'happens to the best of us.

Well- if you'd even consider the 'best of us' to be out there..
Maybe people would consider it to be the Queen.. not of England, clearly. A Sheila who basically ruled over Junkertown, without any kind of 'royal blood' per say.

Anyway, the two sat there for awhile, awkwardly gazing across the walls and ceiling of the pub. A loud and abrupt wheeze caught Mako's attention. Both men snapped their heads around to watch as one of the women sitting on the bench stools burst out into laughter. The bartender rolled their eyes, smiling, then proceeded to walk through the 'staff only' door.

The woman from before finally arrived with the waters.

"Sorry for the wait," she said, placing the glasses onto the table. "Had to take care of something.."

She turned her head to the other side of the room as she was called over by the bartender, who had came back out, holding a bucket.

"Yep, right over," the woman spoke, heading back over into 'staff only'.

"She's fuckin' pissed." Mako heard Junkrat mutter.

"The waitress?" Mako asked questionably, realizing that was a stupid question almost immediately.

"No, the bloody girl up there." Junkrat nodded over to the bench's direction, watching as the same young woman started to spit out in laughter once again.

Mako looked back to their table, picking up the glass of water and noticing a bit of blood mixed with water dripping down the side of the cup.

"Jesus!" Junkrat suddenly exclaimed.

Mako, who had been in his own world, swiftly looked up to the junker on the other side of the table. He tilted his head, confused.

Junkrat quickly switched to an irritated whispery tone, to avoid attention. The people sitting at the bar hadn't seem to notice him yell out anyway.

"I thought you said it was cheap here!?" he spoke, leaning in to the centre of the table.

Mako's eyes widened as he took the menu from him.

"Oh, shit.."

They must've changed the prices since he last came here.. but why?
'It could be just because of greed; everybody here wants money more than anything...'

Junkrat got up, presumably to leave when Mako grabbed his arm.

"Well how the hell are we gonna pay for it?"

He pulled the young man down to whisper to him, smirking under his mask.

"We aren't."

Chapter Text

Junkrat seemed smart enough to try and act contently, sitting back down before replying.

"Oh, alright," he said eagerly, a grin forming with his lips.

...

Mako studied Junkrat, who was still nastily eyeing the wasted group at the bar. The blond flicked his eyes to Mako's direction, having sensed the intense staring.

"What?" he asked. The tone made it difficult to tell whether Junkrat was genuinely confused or just annoyed.

Mako peered at the bar, seeing the same drunken woman begin to cough and gag. Junkrat followed his gaze, cringing as the people around her stood, flinching away from the sick that was being spewed all over the floor. He mouthed the word 'ew', then looked away, noticing that Mako hadn't drank any of his water.

The bartender handed the bucket to one of the woman's friends, who shoved it in her direct with a horrified expression on their face.

"There's only about three groups here," Junkrat complained quietly. "What's the hold up?"

Mako turned back, shrugging. Junkrat further exaggerated his annoyance by huffing out angrily. Then his ears faded red with embarrassment. He was bleating on about everything, when Roadhog was just trying to do something nice. He crossed his arms, attempting to blow off his emotions, however, it resulted in more embarrassment. His face flushed and he pursed his lips.

As if on queue, a male waiter stepped over to them; his hair messy and his eyes jittery.

"Are yo-.. you-" he stuttered slowly, then shook his head. "Sorry... are you guys ready to order?"

Asides the stamper in his voice, and his straightened, almost paranoid posture, the man seemed to be completely calm. He weaved a hand through his hair, waiting patiently.

Mako spoke for them, and Junkrat looked down at his foot, tapping it lightly on the wooden floor. After the waiter had fled to 'staff only', Mako paused for a moment, before standing and moving his chair around the table. Once he sat, Mako's back was facing the rest of the pub. His foot accidently kicked Junkrat's peg-leg. They both chose to ignore it and sit in silence for quite a bit.

The two made eye contact as the lanky blonde was taking a sip from his water. He should've probably felt awkward, or uncomfortable, but Junkrat was just... tired. He had been getting less and less sleep every night now, in the past couple weeks all he'd gotten was small naps during the day, or sometimes he'd even pass out from exhaustion while at his work bench.

He lowered his eyelids slightly after placing the glass back on the table. Mako briefly looked behind him before raising his hands behind his head, and untying his mask.

Mako found it amusing the way Junkrat's eyes instantly lit up at the sight of his face. He had perked up, his eyes widening and straightening himself in his seat. Mako knew how.. new it must've felt. He had so many scars you could've labeled his face as deformed. There was burns and scratches covering his body, but the main scar was from a deep slash starting at his cheekbone, and went down through his lips, ending at his lower chin.  

"You look scarier without the mask."

Mako scoffed, then chuckled, exposing his almost were-like teeth.

"Jeez, sharp chompers as well."

They both had a laugh before Mako closed his mouth, licking his teeth.

...

The waiter placed their dishes on the table, forcing a smile. Mako and him exchanged a nod before the staff member quickly made his way back into staff only.

As they ate, Junkrat poked his meat around, watching the poor bartender wipe up the vomit. He looked down at his food before stabbing a piece of wallaby and chewing down on it. The pieces were cut so small and thin, but it nearly looked like beef. It also tasted a bit like pork? Ah well, he'd never had wallaby anyway..

Once Junkrat looked up again, him and the bartender made this uncomfortable eye contact. They frowned at him, before making a minimal effort smile, and getting back to work.

Whilst chewing another bite of his stewie disaster, Junkrat bit down on something. Hard. It was a piece of metal. It felt, it tasted like it. He spat out onto his plate, staring at the ring that landed in his food. Ew..

Mako cocked an eyebrow, then stared at the ring. As if on schedule, Mako noticed this tiny, mucky piece of paper on his dish. He picked it up with his thumb and index finger, realizing it was actually solid...

Wait.

That was a nail. A human nail.

. . .

The realization was settling in, Mako slowly brought his head upwards, meeting face to face with the ghost white junker in front of him. His face was absolutely pale, numb with shock.

Both of their hands were shaking. ..What had they just done..?

Junkrat weakly but swiftly stood up, his chair scraping loudly across the wooden floor. Mako grabbed his mask and followed him as he hurried to the bathroom. It was cramped, and gross. Mako felt like he was suffocating, overheating. It was all too stuffy. He felt ill to the stomach.

Yes, he'd seen death, he'd caused death... but this... this was just sick. Eating another person? It was just unimaginable. Horrible. It was horrible. This world was crueler than Mako had ever thought.

Oliver would hate what this place had transformed into.

. . .

Oliver...

Mako thought about that day; his best friend burning to death, choking on ash and smoke. He thought about the finger, or even hand that he just ate. It was cooked...

No-

The thought revolted him, he wanted to throw up. Mako stared at his palm, the gash had healed over thankfully. But with everything that was processing through his mind, it was impossible to even consider trying to stay positive.

He took his mask off once again, turning to Junkrat, who was equally as horrified. The younger man was breathing heavily, trying to fan his face but at a weak attempt. He tried turning the sink handle for water but it seemed to be clogged in the pipe.

Suddenly, Junkrat rushed over to the cubicle, Mako squeezing his eyes closed as he listened to the other spew out into the toilet. Mako leaned on the wall, brushing his hair away from his eyes and re-tying it into a short ponytail like before.

Junkrat came back out appearing a bit better than he was previously; his face was steaming and sweaty. He wiped a hand over his forehead, covering the back of his palm in muck.

After the two finally [and somehow] managed to calm each other down, a knock sounded from the outside door.

"Is everything right in there?"

Mako turned to Junkrat, who shrugged worriedly. Junkrat stuttered before ultimately getting the words out.

"Yeah, we're fine," he replied. "He had a few tinnies before we got 'ere.."

The two simultaneously facepalmed.

"Okay then," they walked off.

Well that was weird...

Mako gave Junkrat the 'what now?' look. The smaller junker gazed around the compacted room, about to consider going through the window, but after one glance back at Roadie, he instantly dismissed the thought.

"I can't run," Junkrat said.

Mako nodded. "Clearly."

So with a stupid, half formed idea in mind, the two snuck their way to the main entrance. As they began to walk through the door, the original woman with ammo strapped around her torso stepped out from 'staff only', instantly noticing their departure.

She raised an eyebrow. "And where do you fellas think you're going?"

She proceeded to step forward, Mako gripped Junkrat's good arm behind his back.

In that moment, a lot seemed to slow down. Everyone's movements, the way they leisurely blinked, the creaks in the floorboards...

Suddenly, Mako turned on his heel, scooping up Junkrat and throwing him over his shoulder, before sprinting away from the tavern as fast he could. Junkrat screamed out in protest as he uncomfortably and continuously hit his ribs against the other's shoulder. Mako heard yelling from the pub, and immediately realized they were being chased after.

Through the labyrinth of the town, they took multiple turns, trying desperately to get the pub staff off their trails. Just on time it seemed, Mako swiftly ducked, hearing a bullet shoot into the metal pipe behind him. He kept running, knowing full well that his breath was slipping from him.

Mako turned left, worryingly aware of his slowing legs, but he couldn't give up now, if he did they'd die. So he kept pushing. Through the loud cries in the dark, through all of the yelling, the footsteps, and the crushing weight he was holding above him. Junkrat had quieted himself as best as he could, still letting out pain filled gasps every couple of moments.

Almost tripping with exhaustion, Mako turned sharply to the right and backed up on the wall behind a dumpster. Junkrat plopped down beside him, covering his mouth while he breathed loudly. It was muffled, enough so that if they walked past, there was a good chance they wouldn't get caught. That was never certain, however.

After listening to the yells quiet down, there was an unfamiliar voice, it sounded feminine. They were pleading through desperate sobs before their scream was cut off by a gunshot. Junkrat leaned into Mako's arm, just as terrified as him. But also somewhat relieved they had a chance to escape. Though, that didn't mean they would.

Mako stood steadily, helping Junkrat up as well. He felt his heart sink as the cries of a young child came into earshot. They needed to get out of here.

The footsteps started up again, becoming louder by the second. Without Mako's assistance, the two rushed their way around another multiple set of turns. It was so easy to get lost in this place... he'd never even been in this side of town before. It was a maze.

Between all the noise, Mako made out a "Let me kill him!".

"Shit!" Mako muttered, accidently scraping his upper arm on a keen brick corner. The sudden shock before the pain reminded him from when he cut into his palm with a piece of tin.

They ultimately got to a bit of a clearing, but scanning around the area, the two realized there were no more alleys to pass through... they were trapped.

"Fuck," Junkrat murmured. "We're cornered.."

"Give me your knife," Mako directed.

Rat passed it to him without question. 

Only after the a couple of seconds, the two waiters and bartender came into view. They stood to block the only exit, Mako noticed the crimson stains on their clothes and skin. The ammo lady stepped in front of them, flicking her hair back before pointing an AK-12 towards the two.

"Times up, piggy." she grunted. "You'll make a tasty addition to our menu."

The smile she gave sent shivers down the mens' spines. Junkrat raised his hands defensibly, stuttering on his words.

"Woah woah woah... First off; shooting unarmed men? What will The Queen think? Second of all don'cha dare ca-" he was cut off. Mako had placed an arm in Junkrat's way to prevent the dumbass from stepping any further. 

"Fuck The Queen!" she spat. "It doesn't matter, anyway.. I've been pullin' this shit for years and never paid for anything 'sides the water bill."

The group pressed closer, making Junkrat and Mako back up. Junkrat stared daggers at the woman, seeming unthreatened by the gun being directed straight at him. The woman winced, glaring at the knife Mako was gripping.

"Tsk.."

Lowering her weapon, she shook her head. She tossed it to the male server, who aimed it back at them immediately.

"You wanna fight.. cunt?" she yanked a blade from her belt. "Come at me."

Instantly, Junkrat stumbled as he backed towards the wall. Mako held his knife in front of him. He attempted to cover up his nervousness as the crazed chick charged right at him. She dragged the blade above her head. Mako quickly stepped to his left before she could strike. He kicked her in the chest. Then received a minor pierce to his pants as she struggled to stab him. The woman gripped Mako's shoe. She used it to hoist herself up from tripping.

He swiped his leg away- Just before the blade was about to stab into his shoe. Mako drew his knife through the air. The waitress had dropped into a squat, dodging the swing. She jumped up and grabbed Mako's arm. Then spiked into his armor piece. He gripped onto her wrist that held the blade. He then pulled it behind her back while she struggled.

The woman kicked her legs up and swung around; pushing off from Mako's arm. Out of his grip. She scraped her feet backwards on the ground. Then hurriedly rolled sideways- as Mako stabbed the ground of where she previously was.

In the wake of taking the knife out from the earth, Mako took a vast step backwards. Doing so avoided a slash from the woman ahead of him. She hurried forward. Mako crossed his arms in front- she stuck again. The blade made a gash on his armor and forearm.

Mako uncrossed his arms; throwing the spiked wrists into her face. She stumbled backwards. Before turning around and muttering to her spectating teammates.

"Grab the lanky one!"

Junkrat's eyes widened as he was suddenly rushed my the remaining tavern staff. He resisted, but the bartender was able to hold his wrists behind his back. The waiter held the AK-12 to his cheek, looking him in the eye and for a moment, smirking.

Mako quickly turned to them, distracted. That gave the woman a perfect opening to strike.

Chapter Text

The waitress cut her blade across Mako's bare stomach. He hissed out in pain, quick to cover up the wound with his free hand. 

"Roadie!" Junkrat cried, in consequence received a belt to the face with the gun pointed down at him.

"Shut it, ya little bitch!" the waiter muttered. "Lonn, put him on his knees."

The bartender, who was supposedly named Lonn tightened the grip on Junkrat's wrists, before slamming him into the dirt. The other landed harshly on his knees, grazing the skin on his good leg.

Meanwhile, Mako still had his arm covering the wound, compressing the gash to prevent it from bleeding out. It wasn't as deep to kill him, he knew this, but why risk becoming weak from the blood loss?

He was thankful that he kept his gear on that night. The pads of armor obviously weren't harm-proof, but they sure as hell saved his ass a good few times. 

The woman was strong, but small, making the much vaster man's attacks more severe. Mako slashed her right arm. Deep, and close to the shoulder. She tried to contain her agony, but let out a frail shout. Then grunted, closing a hand over the wound.

Mako paused for a moment.

He watched the pain on her face, the blood on her hands. Seeing this monster enfeebled fueled him. Like a small fire once you add paper to it; the flames suddenly flaring. He shook back to reality before she could regain her strength.

She tried to step away, but stumbled back as Mako struck again.

Slit- his blade tore the skin of her upper left arm. This time, closer to the elbow joint. She bit her tongue.

"Fucks sake!" she sputtered.

She tried rushing Mako once again, foolishly, and only to be kicked back. She was thrown rearward by his foot- Landing on her back. Hard.

She coughed out, then pointed to somewhere behind him.

Mako glanced through the corner of his eye, remembering that an assault rifle was pressed against Junkrat's face. The young man's eyes met his masked ones. Junkrat held an unreadable expression, it was almost emotionless. Even so, he faintly, but noticeably shook with fear.

Mako turned back, balling his fists. The woman chuckled, but stiffened as she shook her head at the waiter.

The server was hesitant, but slowly lowered the gun; running it softly down Junkrat's face, neck and shoulder. It remained pointing at his good [left] foot, however.

The woman spoke leisurely. "You're thoughtless.. if you think I'm going out that easy."

She tiredly made her way to her feet. Mako watched; ready. He clutched the knife to the point where his knuckles turned white.

"Times up, red."

She scoffed before stretching her neck. "You callin' me that 'cus of my hair or the blood.?"

There was only silence as a response.

"Round two?" she asked.

Again, just silence. Mako stared into her pupils, and blinked slowly behind the mask.

It felt like a western stand-off. Who would strike first?

The long pause was abruptly cut off- The woman stepped back. Mako took his stance. She ran forward. This time sliding to the left to try and attack him on the side.

But as soon as she rose- a blade pierced right into her gut.

. . .

They stood still for a moment...

The woman was in shock, the world was spinning in all directions.. She remembered the feeling...

Years ago; when she was a child, it was a scorching day. She was twirling around, a game her and her friends had created; to try and 'flick off the sweat'. It was a bad idea, the heat had already made her feel sick.. so the turning did nothing but add to her dizziness.

Right now, that's what it felt like.

Except now... there was a knife stabbed into her gut.

The sting of pain settled in. Along with the large amount of blood waiting to escape it's flesh cage. She glared into Mako's mask, gritting her teeth behind a closed mouth. Mako raised an eyebrow, and smirked- before tearing the blade out from her gut.

She hollered with affliction, falling to the ground once again. A weak and damaged arm made it's way to pathetically cover the laceration. Red whined out, tears staining her face. She cried with fear, knowing there was little hope of survival if Mako would continue.

The vast man towered over her and placed his knife against her neck, threatening to slit it. He had the woman's 'free' arm pinned to the dirt, then turned his head to face the others.

"Give him back safe," he deadpanned. "Or she's dead."

For a while, nobody moved.

Junkrat's breath quickened, as the assault rifle was pressed against his face once again. He squeezed his eyes closed, awaiting bullets to blow through his skull. The familiar voice of the waiter spoke, seeming totally content with the situation.

"For troubles, how 'bout a leg?" he offered.

"Troubles?" Mako croaked, staring at his companion's only lower limb. "You're fucking crazy."

The younger man's expression dropped, he pushed the barrel harder into Junkrat's face, receiving a whimper in return. "And you aren't?"

Mako pressed the knife down firmer onto the woman's neck. "I don't eat humans."

"Not until tonight, at least.."

Mako was trying so hard not to finish her off. He clenched his jaw in rage.
But unfortunately, just like when paper is on fire, the flames only last for so long...
The waiter continued.

"Look at you.." he said. "The prominent Roadhog, queasy at the thought of consuming his own kind.." He gestured to the woman underneath Mako. "Aves calls people like you pathetic; unable to truly get yourselves dirty." He looked back at the man. "You have all this blood on your hands, why not lick it off?"

. . .

These people were utterly insane.

The woman, [presumably called Aves] formed a very weak smile. It was sly, but almost pride-filled? What brainwashed bullshit had she done to these people? She made no attempt to move or escape her current position. It was nearly surprising, as she seemed so determined before.. But, if they didn't wrap this up quickly, she'd die of blood loss. Which, let's be honest, Mako would be happier about. Anything really, than letting that beast live.

Instantaneously, there were voices- shouting. They sounded at least four blocks away. Shit...

Enforcers.

Everyone stayed put, trying to process the noise and figure out how to quickly get out of that situation.

Mako remained silent, turning to the others who seemed more worried about getting arrested rather than killed.
Junkrat was staring into the distance, probably trying to listen out. But unfortunately, to no avail. The echoes of shouting seemed to coming from every which way.

Lonn spoke up, in a panicked kind of mutter. "Benny, we needa scram!"

He turned to them, then back down at Junkrat. His eyes made their way back to Mako.

"Swap?"

Mako took the knife away from Aves' neck, then let go of her wrist. She almost gasped with relief.
The others hesitated, but quickly let go of Junkrat, before he rushed up to Roadie's side.

Just as the two squads united, the clearing was suddenly swarming with enforcers- Fuck. The five were blinded with flashlights, having to wince as they raised their arms in surrender.
It was too bright to make out what weapons they were holding, but these people worked for The Queen.. they were dangerous. Well, at least for the injured and out-numbered situation the rest were in.

Two of the martinets briskly approached Mako, before grabbing his arms, and pulling them harshly behind his back. They did the same for everyone, prior to having their wrists tied together with rope. It was scratchy, and annoying, but he made himself quickly adjust to the feeling. Who knew how long they'd be bounded like this..

Junkrat felt light-headed. Everything about tonight was overwhelming him. The panic attack, the fight, getting arrested! And... eating that human finger.

He felt like he was going to be sick again, he was hot. Sweating. And the itchy rope was uncomfortable, as it teased to cut off his circulation. He looked around. The enforcers were yelling, everyone was.

Besides Roadhog, of course.
Maybe he was hiding his panic under that mask of his...

-Thoughts were cut off as he heard the pathetic holler of Aves. She was dragged and hauled up into the arms of one of the martinets, bridle style.

"Get your filthy fucking hands off me!"

Her struggling was useless.

Junkrat bowed his head, slouching. A sudden wave of exhaustion had hit him. It made him weak, unable to walk straight. Like one of those headaches you get from standing up too fast. He received a whack! right in the back of his head. And he groaned out with a mix of pain and tiredness.

He would've collapsed already if the enforcer behind him wasn't practically hoisting him up by the wrists. The five were prodded forward, still trying to adjust to the brightness of the flashlights. What felt to be every three seconds, they were getting shoved and shouted at. A few spectators watched through the windows or openings of their houses.

After making their way through most of the labyrinth side of town, and hearing the cries of that child once again, Junkrat wondered how the staff, or even the enforcers had found him and Roadie in the first place. There were so many turns, and alleys. Maybe they'd done nightly patrols and knew their way around.. But that didn't explain the staff..

Unless of course, they'd done this before.

How many people had they killed..? Consumed.. How many people had unsuspectedly eaten human like him and Mako had?

'Oh, oh god..'

He felt sobs about to break through his throat. Crap...

. . .

But instead...

. . .

"..Heh..heha..!"

Lonn and Benny gave him the side eye, with a combination of disgust and confusion. While Mako slightly turned to him, most likely concerned. The enforcers didn't seem to care, or notice.

The giggling continued.

"Aheha! Hahaha!"

He felt the rope scratch harder into his wrists. It hurt him. It felt like tiny needles scraping across his skin.

He kept laughing, it gradually becoming more aggressive. He couldn't help it. Why wasn't he crying? Screaming? Passing out? What the hell was going on?

His confusion at his own actions added to his laughter. He threw his head back, cackling loudly. This was when the enforcers finally decided to take action on it, yanking on his wrists and beating him once with a wooden bat. They aimed into the stomach; he yelped and coughed out as a response.

Everything ached. He was sore all over. The giggling was still bubbling in his gullet, however.

"Can it, freak."

He couldn't. He burst into chuckles a second time.

Mako tried shifting over to him, but was shoved back by the others. Benny and him got themselves into a pushing-brawl until having barrels pressed against the back of their heads.

Junkrat was hit once again. On the back, this time. Tears began welling up in the corners of his eyes. He bit down on his tongue, trying with everything he had not to explode into a fit.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I told you to shut up!"

Junkrat clenched his fists. He wanted to throw his own head into that brick wall.

"Jay?" Roadie spoke questionably. But before anything else was said-

"Pfft-AHAHAHAAHAHAH!!" he gasped for breath, pale face hidden behind perfuse redness.

Without warning the martinet holding Junkrat spun him around and threw him into the dirt. They stepped on his head. A mix of violent sobbing and laughing escaped the man under them. They bent down and screamed into his face.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP. RAT."

. . .

He proceeded to cry.

The enforcer kicked him in the face repeatedly, while the others watched in horror. A few of the other martinets had to physically drag them off Junkrat to prevent further injury.

He laid there, sniffling and whimpering. Blood running down from his nose, across his cheek, and into the dirt...

Everyone stood still. Mako stared down at him helplessly. This gave him an unwanted amount of memories from when they first met.

Meanwhile, Junkrat felt emotionally numb. He was still trying to process what just happened. Why had he been laughing, don't people laugh at funny things? That wasn't funny.. that hurt, it was painful.

He just didn't understand.

His mind went blank, shutting his eyes as his thoughts became blurry. 

God, he wanted to sleep right now...

. . .

He heard muffled speaking, but couldn't put the words into sense. He kept put for a moment, forgetting about the pain. Almost forgetting about reality.
Nevertheless, that was prior to a familiar voice hauling him back to earth.

"Junkrat."

Roadie.

His eyes opened leisurely, meeting Roadhog's silhouetted face. He blinked, trying to make out his surroundings once again. It had only been a minute or two. Everybody was still standing in the alley.

Right now, Roadie was standing in front of him, hands still tied behind his back. All the enforcers and tavern staff were staring dead in his direction. There was surprisingly no protest.

"...Yeah?"

Roadhog leaned forward ever so slightly. "Don't fall asleep."

"Oh, give me a break." Junkrat breathed out sarcastically, a faint grin grew on his lips.

It faded as quickly as it appeared. There was barely any noise, yet it was so loud.. and the lights were annoying him.. What time was it, anyway?

Junkrat gave himself a moment, taking a decent breath.

Mako was pulled away, and a different enforcer helped Junkrat to his feet. They stood by him while everybody began to walk again, being used as some kind of crutch for the lankier man.

Every step was another wince of soreness, his face reeked of blood. The lack of rest was catching up with him, or was it something else? No matter what the feeling was, he still felt tired, and dizzy. His head was throbbing and he was reaching the verge off collapsing.

Somehow, though, he managed to push through it. Enough at least, so that they ultimately made it to wherever they were being taken..

. . .

'Woah..'

Chapter Text

Mako sat on a dingy wooden bench, staring down at the stiches on his stomach. He hadn't lost much blood; opposed to Aves, who was laying on one of the med-bay's beds, barely able to move. Mako frowned. He'd done a severe number on her, but felt little to no remorse for her position. He supposed it brought him back to a time where 'Roadhog' would kill whatever crossed his way.

It's not like Mako had gone soft, or [of course not] weak. He'd figured a couple years ago that pushing everybody away, and damaging humans on a daily basis, was not going to help him, and it certainly wasn't going to bring any of his loved ones back; as much as his younger self wished it would.

But he wanted Aves to die. Right there, on that bed. There were guards, and enforcers in almost every corner, so unfortunately he couldn't let his intrusive thoughts win and finish the job...

Mako kept to himself, thinking for a bit.

How dare those 'bar workers' make them partake in cannibalistic acts? ..And how dare Aves even try to think she could kill him?

Though, what would've happened to Junkrat if Mako had mucked up? They'd probably both be dead; fed like lamb to unsuspecting junkers.

..Eugh..

Thinking of those traffickers.. how come Benny had known who Mako was, but Junkrat acted like he was just another face? Could he really have had no clue of the past Mako stirred? Even if he wasn't some kind of 'celebrity'..

Actually, to be fair, Junkrat was- or, well still was this self proclaimed 'underground trader'. He was pretty shit as his job though, from what Mako had heard. Especially the whole kidnapping deal, which ended with a lost arm. 

Anyways, Junkrat and the other illegal dealers rarely paid care to well known persons or events, in the sense that none of them ever attended these deeds. Such as the mech battles or the boxing matches. You'd find it strange, though, because wouldn't these kinds of events be a perfection opportunity for behind-the-crowds advertising..?

Apparently not. Dealers would use that quiet time to trade amongst themselves in town, without the worry of being reported. In Mako's opinion, this was a dumb idea. Because like what previously happened to Junkrat, you could get beat up or killed, and the attackers would take your belongings and leave your body to eventually be discovered.

Sitting and thinking about how bad it was wasn't going to change it, so perhaps there was hardly any use to contemplating things. And it wasn't as if this was the first time in twenty-seven years Mako had thought this. He just found it too difficult to quit. It was a habit, a well known trait of his that remained dormant in his brain.

He sighed quietly. Once again, passing an eye over to Aves, where she continued to lay, life slowly draining from her body. Benny was clearly stressed, sitting on the edge of the chair, worriedly gazing down at her. He cared an awful lot for a murdering cannibal. But Mako couldn't judge that harshly, cause now he was too.. ..technically.

Lonn stood not too far behind Benny, staring down at the bed with a disbelieving and unimpressed expression.
From what Mako heard, some enforcers went to search the bar for any other workers, but instead found the rotting corpse of one. They had been cut off of all limbs, and stripped of their clothes and hair. And there was a large dissection down the front of the person's torso, where their organs were in the process of being pulled out. It sounded quite gruesome, quite horrific. Even worse is that that was most likely the human Junkrat and him ate, due to the lack of hands on the body.

Poor Junkrat, the lad hadn't eaten for serval days, and was just staring to recover from the beat he'd taken at the pub. Mako wasn't sure if he'd live that long after this. But he found Junkrat's lack of eagerness to drink or eat a bit strange. Maybe that's what happened to people after a while; they just loose their appetite and become sick when they do eat..

Junkrat had thrown everything up anyway. But now that he thought about it, Mako didn't know if that was because of what they'd just eaten or because he had consumed something too quickly for his body to handle it. After all, it'd probably been feasting on his stomach lining until then.-

Well, speak of the devil..

Just as Mako was reflecting on why the hell he was thinking about this, the familiar face was led into med-bay. Junkrat had just come out from questioning, seeming calmer than Mako expected.

He wanted the opportunity to console the junker as soon as they were in, but from the looks of it, he was next to be questioned. So he stood up, watching his companion be seated on another bench. The enforcers walked across the room to Mako, all while he was still gazing as the nurses, as they checked the dressing on Junkrat's limbs and face.

After all of his hysterical behaviour, seeing Junkrat so calm and numb sent shivers down Mako's spine.

Mako had refused to take off his mask, insisting towards the nurses that he was not injured there. He suspected the enforcers would want it off during questioning, but then again, he wasn't sure if they'd care all that much... -if Jay and him were proven to be victims of 'forced cannibalism'- that is.

The martinets seemed far less aggressive from how they acted in the alley. A couple of them even seemed paranoid.. nearly. The person who beat Mako's new-found companion didn't appear to be around, though. Most likely to the report of 'police brutality'.

As he stepped past, the scrawny junker looked up at him with tired eyes. He smiled weakly, but immediately dropped his gaze, taking his expression with it.

...

The hallway had an eerie silence to it, interrupted with the creaking footsteps of everybody walking through it. Mako held his head down, feeling an attempt of a shove behind him. At the end of the hall was a stained and scratched up grey door, which was opened rather carefully, as if it'd fall off the hinges.

The dimmed lights above him made an annoying buzz sound, flickering vaguely every so seconds. Mako was sat down on the wooden table, facing the door from the opposite side of the room. He anticipated how he'd be treated, awaiting any kind of aggressiveness.

Two enforcers stood behind Mako, leaning on the wall. The other two by the door, keeping it open to let somebody else walk through..

He stared out the door, watching a tall, muscled figure urge close through the hallway. The lack of light in the hall made the figure difficult to make out, but what he knew for sure was that this person held a threatening aura. Spikes and chains rattled with every step they made. Dust parted from the floor and floated across the air.

Treading into the light, the person was- at short last, revealed..

The Junker Queen.

Wait... huh? What the hell was sh-

SLAM! Her fists banged down against the table- making one of the guards flinch. She stood silently, staring into Mako's mask with piercing daggers.

The vast man remained motionless, a mix of shock, anger and confusion overflowing him.

"Roadhog, 'uh? Heard a lot about ch'ou.."

Her voice seemed to echo through the compacted room; filling the space with the intensity and gruffness of it. The young woman took her hands off the desk, leaning her body backwards, but still keeping the strong, just about fiery eye contact, even if it was through the mask. It was almost like she knew exactly where his pupils were.. and she looked straight into them like a knife stabbing it's way through a pear.

Mako blinked, unfazed.

'Plenty of people have heard about me.' he thought, not daring to test his waters in saying it aloud.

"Some o' the locals reckon ya real name's Mako, would that be right?"

'Why would my name matter anyways? What would she do with a birth name in this day and age?'

The Queen waited for a response, being overly aware she'd cut him off the second he opened his mouth. She continued, beginning to pace slowly:

"That aint my worry though.. What I wanna know is what the fuck happened tonight? Can ya help me out, eh?"

Mako leaned his head forward very slightly, as if asking for permission to speak.

"Fess up, 'cause I know you had something to do with this."

She pointed behind her, gesturing to the med-bay.

"Why the hell is that girl bleeding out her gut? And why the hell was there a mangled, limbless body in that bar?"

The Queen pursed her lips and widened her eyes, giving Mako the demand to talk. He stayed as calm as possible, forming his words mentally before speaking.

"That young woman goes by Aves, at least to her accomplishes. Her and the other two in med-bay work at that bar. We didn't know what we were eating. She tried to kill us, so we got into a fight. She wasn't holding back, so I stabbed her."

The Queen raised an eyebrow. "Ratboy said you lads figured out it was a person, and that's why they wanted to kill you. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"And how did you work that out?"

Without moving his head, Mako looked down at the table in front of him. "They didn't do the best at covering it up, we found a ring and nail in what they served us."

The blue haired junker placed her palms back onto the desk, leaning over the man once again. "Aight, so how long where you there for? I've already been told y'all were taken from some alley in the middle o' town."

"Maybe an hour and a half, two hours.."

She nodded, flicking her gaze to one of the guards taking notes. It seemed that she was about to say something else, but was cut off by a distant thud. The Queen gestured her head to the door, and one of the martinets exited down the hall.

A few seconds of silence passed, and then there was yelling.

The Queen's eyebrows furrowed. "The fuck is going on in there?" she muttered.

She turned back to Mako, who was still calmly sitting by the desk.

"Ugh, anywa-"

"-EN- STOP!"

The yelling continued, following by more crashing.

"Argh, fuckin' 'ell.." She hauled her weapon over her solider. "C'mon, we can finish this up in a sec."

Mako stayed put until he was physically dragged up by The Queen, and they headed through the hallway once again.

Mako figured she knew how easily she could dominate him... battle-wise.. So there wasn't use in trying to escape. It'd only get him in more trouble.

As the two entered, they were both immediately faced with the quote-unquote "waiter". Benny was furiously waving his arms around, while enforcers were holding him back to prevent further violence. Darting his eyes around, Mako spotted a tipped table, and a startled Lonn in the corner. Junkrat had red marks on his face.

'Jeez- this kid can't keep himself out of trouble for two fucking seconds.'

At the site of The Queen, Benny instantly stopped struggling. Her low voice filled the space afresh..

"What happened in hear.?"

Junkrat faintly backed up, nervously staring at Mako.

An enforcer was about to reply, that was until they were cut by a sobbed plead from Benny.

"Why..? Why have you done this to her?" He faced Mako, tears beginning to spill from his red eyes.

Was that man seriously crying over that chick? ..In front of everyone? She was a psychopath.. So there was no helping him now..

The Queen frowned. "Calm yourself." she grunted, catching a glimpse of the vast man next to her.

Lonn uncomfortable looked down, watching Aves take unsteady breaths.

"You piece of shit!" Benny cried, stepping forward as the martinets tugged on his arms.

He was stopped by an axe suddenly pressing against his neck.

"I told ya... ta calm yourself."

The two held silent eye contact for a frightful amount of time. That was until Benny finally gave up, knowing he was probably going to die. His give in to defeat appeared.. sad, however. Like he had nothing to live for anymore..

"Ben.." Aves voice was made out weakly from the other side of the room.

Everybody turned towards her. The Queen was hesitant but let Benny rush over to the bed.

"Yes?" he said urgently. "Yes Aves, what is it?"

Lonn stood by the bed, spectating, and the others got a tiny bit closer.

Aves, with a puny and shaky arm, lifted the rag over her, to reveal a bright red stain in the middle of the sheet.

Benny and Lonn's eyes widened with concern. He shook his head in disbelief.

"This can't be happening..." he cried. "Don't leave me.. please."

Aves tried turning her head, but it appeared she was in too much pain to move.

"This ain't my choice." she spoke, avoiding eye contact while she stared straight ahead of her.

Mako stood still, processing what was happening. Without Aves, Benny was falling apart, and quite obviously. The care that these people had for each other.. it almost made him sad. HAH- just kidding. Mako was internally so relived. At the same time, he was pretty concerned for Benny though, not exactly in a sympathetic way.. More of a "you probably need help, but I won't give it to you" kind of way.

"Don't fret," Aves muttered. "I'll be looking up the whole time." She faintly smirked.

But the grin quickly faded, and she whispered something to Benny; words that the others weren't able to make out. he held her hand, as it slowly began to loosen it's grip on his.

"Cya, loser..."

"Wait-!"

With a lack of warning, Benny kissed her lips. Aves' eyes closed as she gave her last breaths. After he let go, she didn't open her eyes.. she didn't breathe..

She was dead.

Chapter Text

A week ago.

A week ago was when it happened. When they were nearly killed, got arrested, and even watched a cannibal die in the med-bay of the enforcer's building.. It was all... certainly eventful, let's just say.

And somehow.. Junkrat was still standing. After all the abuse and beatings, the tortures, and lack of basic human needs, this skinny little asshole was still alive. In an alright condition as well.

He sat at the bench in his workshop, working away at his frag launcher. Parts and scraps were scattered across the place, as well as some empty boxes of Chinese food... Was it even Chinese food? He couldn't tell to be honest. The take-out joint, down the main road, was closing for good soon, so everything was cheaper.

And very expired..

But cheaper.

Lately, things had been looking up for both Junkrat and his mate. Ever since they'd gotten their hands on a bit more cash- (Maybe from pick pocketing, but that wasn't the point..) The older man had even gifted some of his stash to the lankier bloke.

Roadie and him hadn't met up a whole lot, yet occasionally, Junkrat would see him down the street, or walking in and out of the tattoo place. 

Now, about how they got away with what happened the previous week? The Queen had [somehow] seen partial innocence in the lads. Well she must've- cause they weren't kicked out to fend for themselves, like she was when she was a child.

Junkrat remembered when she was first crowned, yelling out to the crowd happily. That was about six years ago, before he got into the illegal dealing. If The Queen knew about that, he'd sure be out.

Some would find Junkrat's dishonesty rather disrespectful, especially after being spared by the ruler of the outback.. But he had to lie, obviously; to keep himself alive. He could, by no means, just charm his way back into town once he'd gotten the boot. This place was a shit hole, still, the outside was nothing but waste.

He'd listened to quite a lot of Roadhog's story, from before The Omnic Crisis started. He wondered about trees, and greenery, and a bright blue sky to look up to. It almost felt unreal. The simple concept of a peaceful time, a so-called 'lively' time... it sounded like some kind of heaven, or fantasy world.

Well, he wouldn't go as far to describe it as that, but the idea of being exposed to that sort of world really intrigued him.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much point in dreaming about seeing it. Australia was a "desolate, barren land", as his Ma used to call it.

...

Huh, his mother.. Did he even remember what she looked like?

Jesus, it hadn't been that long, had it? Only about... seventeen years.

The young man paused his work. He stopped and took a moment to process his thoughts..

-God, his life had been traumatizing..

Although, he often repressed those kinds of thoughts, thankful that his scrawny little butt wasn't dead yet.
That didn't stop him from feeling puzzled, however.

She was living with the boy until he turned eight. Since she'd exposed her lungs and body to the radiation outside of Junkertown, she got cancer. If death wasn't already certain enough, the kid got to watch his own mother get shot in the head and drop to the floor...

"Hm."

He didn't really feel like thinking about the rest of that day. In fact, he didn't wish to think about any of that day. Kinda hurt the idea of going to outside world..

Anyway-

Junkrat shook himself back to the present, staring back down at his work bench. Why was he making this..? For self-defence.. right. Speaking of which, did Roadie ever give him back that Dagger?

He felt around in his pockets, and scanned his eyes around the area.

"That dickhead.." he chuckled.

He rolled his eyes and decided to take a break for now. He'd never really thought about taking a couple moments off from tinkering on his inventions, but the idea was suggested from Roadie. Which sort of made him consider it for awhile, until he actually ended up going through with it.

He took this time to stand up, and stretch his back, receiving numerous cracks from his horrible posture. The young man stepped towards the door, then opened it to allow 'fresh' air inside.

While Junkrat stood in his door frame, he heard several excited voices, so he peeked his head around the corner to see a crowd of people, gathered by a poster.

"They're finally doing them again!" he caught somebody say.

"Do ya reckon they'll bring back the Fantom?"

'Fantom?' Junkrat thought. 'Now where did that ring a bell?'

"They oughta! Oh, and what's this? A new competitor?"

The young man started tuning out the voices, trying to remember where he knew Fantom from.

That was, until he felt a cold, metal hook, gently poke him in the side. Junkrat whipped his head around to see Roadie, standing less than a metre away from him.

"HOLY-" he exclaimed, jolting upwards.

Roadhog stood motionless; mask covering his face. "Hi."

Junkrat brushed himself off, trying to take his nerves with it. "Jeez, mate. Way to sneak up on somebody.."

Mako ignored the comment, and gestured to the crowded poster. "Wanna go?"

The younger man blinked a couple times. "Go..? Go to.. what?"

Even with the mask, you could tell how dumbfounded Mako appeared. "The brawl.."

It clicked. "OHHH!"

'That's who Fantom was! The Terror of Dawn!'

He nodded repeatedly. "Well- uh, sure! Yeah. We can do that.. When's it on?"

"The poster says that the first match will be this evening."

Junkrat grinned. "Alright!"

"Okay, cya." Mako was walking away when-

"Wait-!"

He turned around.

"Where would we meet up? Do we gotta buy tickets? Or have you sorted that out or-"

"I'll meet you here," the gruffer voice said. "We don't need tickets, it's free entry. Betting is where they get money from."

"Oh.. okay."

Junkrat had never been to a brawl as a child. His Ma would leave him at home, hiding in a cabinet, while she went out. She usually did that, probably thinking he wouldn't go wondering off half the time.

Mako stood still, waiting. Almost to ask 'anything else?'. Junkrat lifted his mech-hand to awkwardly wave.

"Bye.." he said, [more or less questionably].

The older man proceeded to walk off again. "Bye."

And just like that, he was gone again..

Chapter Text

The afternoon sky was covered by a vast wall of grey clouds. As the two junkers headed towards The Scrapyard [prominent name for the arena], the streets became more and more bustling and filled. The men stayed close to each other, only slightly concerned about one of them getting lost in the crowd.

A person walking by nearly tripped on Junkrat's peg-leg, but he moved it out of the way in time; muttering an apology. The other just scoffed.

There were two huge lines. One which lead into the betting room, and the other straight into the Scrapyard. Serval people were shoving at one another, spilling and throwing their coins about.

Junkrat internally jibed, glaring as he saw a full dollar drop to the ground and become forgotten within the swarm of people. It frankly confused him; why would they waste their money on something like that?
To be fair, it felt rather hypocritical to be judging them.. but it's not as if Junkrat himself would let his cash just get lost for anybody else to take! ...Such as what he just witnessed.

After awhile of standing around tiredly, the two finally started to progress within the line, and eventually, made it inside.

Dust fell from the ceiling of the crammed hallway, as they made their through it. A particle got caught in Junkrat's throat, and he was put into a brief coughing fit.

"Never a break with you, ey?" Roadie muttered, lightly patting his companion's back.

The blond replied, coughing between words. "Tell- me- about it-"

The two found an empty spot where a group had previously been waiting, but decided to move places. Mako had noticed them patting down on the seat; testing it maybe?
Whatever it was, it was probably fine.

Only after five minutes, the 'Scrapyard' was roaring with cheers. The torches and lightbulbs used to light the audience seats were blown out and switched off. Not that it had much of an impact, besides dimming it. There was a giant fly screened sky-light, with huge rotted and cracked windows. It was letting in the yellowy grey light from outside.

Junkrat gazed around the arena, vaguely remembering it's appearance from when he was nineteen.

He almost had to cover his ears once the focus landed on the throne. It was sat high up; half inside and half outside the arena. And on it sat... [you'd never guess] The Junker Queen.
The uproar of excited and impatient screams was such a contrast to how calmly she presented herself.

Junkrat watched, memories resurfacing and unlocking with every millisecond that passed by.

Without warning, he sprung up from his seat; nearly tripping as he howled out like he had so many years ago.

"YEAHHH! JUNKER QUEEN! AWHOOO!"

Mako sat quietly until shrugging it off before deciding to join. He cuffed his palms together, clapping loudly.
It was strange.. All the internal guilt from lying to her seemed to be fading. Or was that just a moment of happiness? They couldn't really tell, or- care all that much.

Junkrat was on his way to sit back down- when he slipped backwards and thudded down, breaking the wooden bench right through to the concrete underneath it.

Mako stood there for a moment, as they both processed what happened.

"..Uh, are you oka-"

"Pffft." Came a snort from Junkrat, trapped laying[/sitting] in the destruction of the seat.

They both started laughing, as well as a few people around them before it was eventually drowned out by more cheering.

"Okay, but seriously, are you good?"

The younger man kept his grin. "Pretty sure I can feel there are splinters everywhere."

...

The two sat on the steps; up front as to not to be in anyone's way. Well, that would be the case if they cared. Not really though, they just wanted a clearer view.

The Queen rose from her throne, standing tall and proudly.
After a bit, the crowd ultimately contained themselves.

"Good evening, everybody." Her voice bounced off the walls, protecting to majority of the stadium with ease. "I'm sure you've all been pretty patient, haven't you? It's been about four months since the last brawl.. Now, I'm just excited as you all are to get this show on the road.. so why don't we, ey?"

Junkrat gripped the railing in front of him, staring out to where The Queen was pointing.

"First up; an old champion, and a beloved brawler.. I reintroduce to you, The Terror of Dawn! Fantom!"

Mako felt the anticipation rising as the large doorway opened up, revealing the bulky, unique mech. He watched dust scatter in the air once a foot of the suit had hit the ground. Over and over, until it stood waiting, in the centre of the arena.
He felt a poke, and turned to his side.

"Oi, Roadie-"

Mako glared through his mask. "What is it, Rat?"

"Ain't it funny it says 'TOD' on his belt number plate thingo? I reckon it is, anyway."

The older man blinked, glancing at the so-called 'belt number plate thingo' from afar.

...It was a little goofy. In the sense that it just said 'TOD', and not something partially threatening like Mako's.

...

'R0AD-R8GE' was at least partially threatening.. right..?

It didn't matter, he could just take it off whenever he wanted to..

..Did Junkrat think he looked stupid?

Honestly though, who cared what that dickhead thought?

..Maybe him?

No. He didn't.

Unless he did..?

No.

Possibly..?

No.

He let out a sigh, maybe a bit too loudly than expected. The younger man slightly turned his head to look back at him, but shrugged it off and went back to watching the mechs in the arena.

Junkrat attempted to sit straight, [as to get a better view], but was greeted was several painful cracks. He decided to lean his back on Mako's side, expecting to be pushed off.

Surprisingly not?

On the other hand, Mako took this as a sign of reassurance. Had this little man read his mind?

Weird..

What was even weirder, was the next thing Junkrat had to say.

"Is that a fucking guinea pig?"

'Jesus Christ..' "What?"

"Well, is it?"

To his fascinated surprise, there was indeed a tiny, yellow rodent piloting one of those mechs.

"It's a hamster."

"Bullshit you can tell from up here."

"It's not that hard to see."

"Fuck you," he chuckled.

From what they heard off The Queen, this new contestant was named 'Wrecking Ball'..

Junkrat elbowed the lad next to him, snickering. "Let's see if the name lives up, huh?"

Chapter Text

"Well, the guinea pig certainly lived up to it's name, huh?"

"Hamster."

"Same fucking thing."

-Some brawls/fights

-Mako encounters One-Eyed

Goregous orange rays shone through the opening at the top of the 'Scrapyard'. They coloured the arena with this firey, almost magical look. Junkrat watched in amusement as the Wrecking Ball hamster thing and Phantom got ready to beat the shit outa each other nlah blah blahj.. I'm tired.

The "TOD" numberplate glowed, somehow conveying this powerful aura to The Terror of Dawn.

Too bad it wasn't dawn, cause that Hamster mf was not playing around.

It had this wicked contraption where the piolot would duck into the mech, the legs would too, and it would roll across the ground at unusual speeds. After using a graple and slamming a hit into Phantom, the hamster emerged once again and began furiously spraying the other with it's quad cannons.

Phantom lifted an arm of the mech, to deflect the bullets. After the hamster had worriedly tucked it's head back into the ball, Phantom took a swing at one of the legs of the machine. Without the support Wrecking Ball's balance was knocked out of track. And he went back into ball mode, and rolled away for a breif escape. He used his graple to get the high ground on the moving platforms, and stayed out as he shot down at Phantom.

Phantom, holding two large and heavy chains in his hands, similar to Roadhog's hook, swung them far into the air until they pierced themselves into the same platform in which Wrecking Ball was shooting from.

The screeching noise of the hooks being dug into place hurt everyone's ears. A deafening noise. The hamster covered it's tiny ears, cringing.

That's when Phantom grabbed onto the chains, and started to climb up to the platform. The hamster squeaked, and the voice box thingy said something like "The hamster does not appriciate the odds."

They went ball mode again, and grappled to another moving platform, as The Phantom dude was climbing on the chains, Hammond went ZOOOOM right into him after building up some momentum. That seemed to startle that Phantom mf, but luckily he kept his grip on the chains and heaved his mech up onto the platform.

Wrecking ball did that spinning then hit the ground thingy idk I'll explain it better later- Which sent Phantom to momentarily launch into the air

As Wrecking ball started to shoot him up again, Phantom rushed up to hamster dude and grabbed his left gun, tearing it off, well not off but like to the point where it's better to be fly off yk?

Anyway- Phantom started bashing up Hammond's mech, so out of panic, the hamster pressed the "Area denied" button and several floating mine/bombs shot out and across the platform, the ones that touches Fantom (just realized I've been spelling it incorrectly bruh) blow up and it does CRITIAL DAMAGE to his mech.

After using his smug little ultimate thing, Wrecking Ball goes into ball mode again and (whilst dodging the other mines) knocks Fantom off the platform. They go and do the slam thing again. After that the hamster begins shooting him up again.

Fandom tried to get him away, but his attempts were feble, so he grabs his shot gun and escapes the mech before it gets fully destroyed. He runs away (not far though) from Hammon's mech and starts shooting him.

It does damage, but not much as it just leaves dents in the side of the ball. Turning to mechless Fantom, Hammond's guns ready themselves before Fantom does the signal to end the match. (idk I'll figure out what the sign is, like a hand raise or something)

The crowd is clearly confused, or I supposed surprised by this move, this whole match to be honest. Fantom had never forfeited a match mid-way, or at all to be honest. He was the champian, always.

But this Wrecking Ball thing, a literal hamster... had taken his place. L bozo-

The Queen only seemed subetly surprised at this, cocking an eyebrow. There was an intermission of whispers. The hamster scratched it's ear and squeaked.

"Booyah" the filter thingy said.

There was the odd, slow clap, a few unsure ones.

The Queen jumped down and climbed onto the hamster's mech, grabbing it and it up in the air. She gently held it's paw above it's head and yelled out "Our new champion, Wrecking ball!"

Eventually everyone began to roar up and cheer for the hamster. It was loud, nealy as loud as it was when the Queen was crowded at the Reckoning. (I think it was the reckoning, idk search it up later)