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Melted

Summary:

Love, they come to realize, is a similar feeling to being burned and feeling frozen at the same time.

Mei and Junkrat find kindred spirits within one another after sharing the stories of their pasts and learning to fight alongside one another. Blatant Meihem with a heap of fluff and hurt/comfort, both parties suffering from some terrible sleeping problems and PTSD badness :ccc.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

Mei moves subtly, bobbing like a jellyfish in the sea, scuffling about in her thick suede fur-lined boots and passing out half-frozen water bottles to their teammates. It's an especially muggy day in Hanamura- on days like this, its typical of Mei to be conscious of keeping her team hydrated.

"Remember everyone, you all know where to come in case you need popsicles!"

She, being a quick minute older than a good portion of Overwatch, tended to be a little bit on the matronly side with all of them. Between she, Mercy, and 76, the team was ensured to be well taken care of on this mission.

Mei was the type of person to make friends rather easily. Her kind nature and considerate heart, combined with her enthusiasm and hopeful outlook on the future had earned her a badge of affection from nearly everyone within the ranks of Overwatch. She was as passionate and caring as she was hardworking, and always did her best to ensure that her team was in tip-top shape for their missions- for the good of the planet, after all!

Only few among them did she mistrust, and lo and behold- two of them were assigned to accompany her on this mission. Normally, in situations like these, Mei would keep mostly to herself, buttoning her lip and making sure not to get in the suspicious party's way: no telling who would and wouldn't hesitate lest she accidentally appear in their cross-hairs, after all. In this case, however, whispers among her colleagues had fostered a wariness of the two new Australian mercenaries to whom she was assigned to fight alongside.

From what she had heard, and from reliable sources at that, was that the pair were capricious and unpredictable, and were generally all-around troublemakers at best. Beyond their bold personalities, the two were known to be incredibly dangerous and had a penchant for destruction and cruelty. They were ruthless individuals who felt no remorse for a little bloodshed for the sake of personal gain, especially in pecuniary terms.

They were killers.

Her fingers flutter nervously against the plastic of the bottle and she ponders for a moment before she turns from Zarya, putters over, and hands Junkrat a water bottle of his own. She doesn't make eye contact with him, preferring to glance away to something in her peripheral, nibbling her bottom lip a bit.

"H-here Jamison...Take this."

Her good nature got the best of her in these cases.

He hesitates from taking the drink, instead preferring to let a wry smile split his smug face and lift a mocking blonde brow at her offer. She puffs her cheeks and says nothing, prodding him hard and quick in the gut with the bottle.

Dangerous or not, she wouldn't tolerate insolence. She was intimidated, sure, but Mei was perfectly capable of defending herself and doing considerable damage on her own. She eyed the larger of the two over her shoulder, sizing him up in case things got hairy. 'Big,' she thought, 'but slow. If I caught him off-guard with a head start, maybe my Endothermic Blaster could...'

She shook her head a bit, determined to focus and get the task at hand over with.

"You need to stay hydrated.", she presses.

He all but snatches the bottle from his short teammate and begins to toss it up and down in one hand, a festering Cheshire grin curling his soot-smudged lips.

"Aww, the Ice Queen herself is worried about little ol' me? I'm touched, Your Majesty!"

Its this that makes her whirl toward him, pushing her thick black glasses up her pink nose with a gloved hand and giving him a frosty glare.

"You will be no use to anyone if you are dehydrated. We cannot afford to have team members who are indisposed on the front lines! Do not make Angela waste her time on you.", she spits, pointing behind her with a slightly curved finger at Mercy, who hovered with a watchful gaze on him close by.

He simply rolls his eyes at her scolding, smiling and crossing his organic leg over his prosthetic one.

"Tch."

He cackles briefly then, and stretches his long neck backward to jeer at her to his leather-clad bulwark of a bodyguard.

"Hear that 'Hog? She's worried 'bout a pair o' Aussies gettin' overheated!"

He seems to pause, and suddenly the notion is hilarious to him. The cackle that barks from his chest is a dry, wheezing, hyena-like sound. His adam's apple flutters in his throat with it, the ropy muscles of his long neck straining with his raucous taunting.

With a hateful eye fixed on him, she huffs loudly, indignant at his mockery of someone's generosity and concern.

"You're so awful! To think the earth wastes her precious gallons of water to make up people like you!"

Her pitifully nerdy outburst only elicits more shrill laughter from the pyromaniac, slapping his knee and throwing his head back to smack against the broad wall that makes up Roadhog's hairy chest.

Fine then, she decides.

All he hears is a feminine growl and the padded stomping of her thermal boots before he's bent over coughing, having earned a harsh flick to his adam's apple from his tinier teammate. He's swallowing and coughing, his black-nailed hand clasped over his now tender throat. From behind him he can hear the low, quiet rumble of Roadhog's chortling laughter rolling forth from deep within his chest. Junkrat elbows him sharply in his protruding belly, but the action goes all but unfelt beneath his tough hide.

He jumps to full his height then to shout at her, jabbing his prosthetic firmly into the soft ground as though to plant a flag for his dampened pride.

"OI! THE FOK WAS THAT FOR!?"

Fuck-his voice had cracked, and the tiny climatologist had already made half her way over to Mercy, out of his reach. She pauses mid-step, tilting her round face over her shoulder. A strand of ebony hair tumbles across her cheek, and while her mouth was obstructed by her fluffy faux fur-lined hood, he could see an impish smile lift her eyes and make them sparkle.

"You know full well what that was for, Junkrat. Don't play dumb!"

She giggles then, a bubbling little hiccup.

"Or maybe you're not playing at all?"

He draws in a snarling breath to swear his revenge, but it hitches into a gasp when he's suddenly fumbling to catch a half-solid water bottle that she's sent careening toward his face.

"There. For Roadhog, too. At least he's quiet!"

Chapter 2: Revenge is a Dish...

Notes:

I headcanon Mei as pansexual, so there's a pinch of her more sapphic tendencies in this chapter. Sorry for the wait, I was at a con for a few days and then got super busy with college stuff!!! Updates should be regular now <3.

Sweeter stuff to come <3!

*Privjet- "Hello" in Russian.

Chapter Text

The mission had been a long and arduous battle, but a successful one.

 

Mei sat in her quarters, stretching her sore back muscles as Snowball tittered and chirped above her.

 

“No, friend. I don’t need any pain gel, I am fine. Thank you, though.”

 

The tiny bot made a low, skeptical, buzzing sort of noise before hovering onto Mei’s desk and alighting gently onto its charge pad.

 

Kicking off her heavy boots and shedding her heavy down-filled coat, she heaves a deep sigh and flops herself down heavily onto her bed, waiting for her teammates to be finished with the showers.

 

Mei had always been a rather private person. She was willing to try what she could to be closer to her companions, but there were some things she simply couldn’t bear to do. Recalling the first and only time she had ventured into the communal showers when others were still there, her cheeks immediately began to warm.

 

First off, there was the cheerful and totally unabashedly topless greeting from Tracer in the locker rooms. She had waved at Mei excitedly, with that same sweet puppy-dog smile on her freckled pixie face as though she WASN’T completely bare from the hips up. Mei recalled attempting to direct a friendly smile toward her as best as she could while her eyes were glued to the ceiling, bashfully avoiding the motion resulting from Tracer’s frantic arm-waving.

 

And then there had been Zarya.

 

Mei had been shampooing her hair when she felt the enormous hand clap jocularly over her shoulder, encompassing the tinier pale structure entirely. Peering down, she noticed the unmistakable pink manicure and went completely rigid. Heart pitter-pattering pitifully in her chest, she slowly turned to face her towering friend.

 

To say that Zarya was beautiful was an enormous understatement. The muscular warrior was a tribute to womankind.

 

“Privjet*, little mouse. You fought well on our incursion. Those scum never knew what hit them. Small as though you may be, one cannot say that you are...lacking.”

 

The subtle, split-second downward glance of Zarya’s stunning green eyes, acknowledging her bust, did not go unnoticed to Mei, and she felt herself go cherry red.

 

“A-ah, well, thank you!! Y-you’re an, uhm, excellent fighter too, Zarya! Very strong!! Like the mountain, ahaha!!”, She had managed to sputter before practically bolting down the hall, towel, suds, and all, back into her quarters.

 

She sighed, grumbling a little and rubbing at her squishy cheeks to get rid of the burning sensation that overwhelmed her face, and sat up to glance at her digital clock, which cast a cool minty blue hue over her bedspread.

 

10:47 PM, lights out at 11. Her teammates were surely done with the showers by now.

 

Gathering up her spearmint shampoo, vanilla shower gel, towel, and other various toiletries, she began to make her way out of her quarters and to the dormitory bathroom.

 

Just as she reached the door to her bedroom, a familiar squawking noise stopped her in her tracks.

 

Was she hearing things?

 

She paused at the door, pressing her ear to it to listen.

 

There it was again!

 

“What on earth would a juvenile Emperor penguin be doing he…..oh”.

 

She opened the door to find a cute plush robotic penguin, toddling about in circles before her door. Smiling and humming pleasantly, she crouched down to watch the little robot do its routine.

 

Giggling, she reaches out a hand to pat the little bird on its soft, faintly humming head.

 

“Goodness, you sure are cute! And you match my socks!”

 

She beams, glancing down at her sky-blue socks, patterned with penguins in scarves and earmuffs.

 

“I wonder who you…..belong...to???”

 

Looking back toward the little toy, she squinted a bit, noticing a pair of panels beginning to pull apart just below the adorable plush’s beak with a faint mechanical whir. Rows of jagged, shark-like teeth were revealed beneath the fluff, the tiny penguin’s expression beginning to resemble a familiar signature smile.

 

“This looks like…”

 

Images of round yellow cherry bombs sailing above her, each bearing the exact same maniacal grin, slowly came to mind.

 

She gasps, the realization hitting her just a little bit too late.

 

“JunkRA-”

 

The penguin’s eyes twinkled with a bright orange LED mischief before the little creature erupted into an enormous smokebomb, coating she, her dorm, and the surrounding hallway with an obnoxious flame-orange dust.

 

The tiny climatologist could only stand there, dumbstruck. A tiny, angry tremor began at her socks and worked its way into her balled fists. Startled tears began to prickle her flaming cheeks before she heard the faint sound of familiar wild laughter down the hall.

 

“AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!!!! OH MY GOD, ME FUCKIN’ BOMB MATCHED ‘ER SOCKS, DIDJA HEAR THAT ‘OG??? I CAN’T BELIEVE I CAUGHT THIS ALL ON FILM! DIDJA SEE HER FACE!? AAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!”

 

Wait, a CAMERA!?

 

She whirled toward the orange-stained plush, picking its heavy little body up to peer into its eyes. Just as she expected, she was greeted with the clicking of a camera lens, adjusting to get a clear image of her fuming face. A low growl bubbled out of her throat, and she fisted her hand in the confounding toy’s soft orange-black fur. Behind her, her other hand fished through her bundle of supplies for her Blaster.

 

“Jamison Fawkes,”, she hisses into the camera, letting an indomitable smirk curl her pretty lips as she points an icicle into the bird's glassy eye.

 

“Prepare yourself for war.”

Chapter 3: Best Served Cold

Notes:

I suppose I got a little overinspired today, soooo double-update! Yay!!

Chapter Text

Thus had begun their prank war, each devising their own plans to catch the other off-guard.

Mei congratulated herself; today's prank was a particularly good one. She sat at her desk, cross-legged in a pair of fleece-lined sweatpants and enjoying a hot cup of oolong tea. Cradling the ceramic mug with care in her hands, she lifted the hot beverage close to her face and breathed in the warm, delicate scent of the fragrant tea.

Dipping her small upper lip daintily into the cup, she drank in silence, and paused. The warmth that slipped down her throat seemed to flow forth and radiate into her very bones. Exhaling happily, she let the soothing tea bring a sense of calm about her senses. Today was a beautiful day, and today's cup of tea was particularly…

A strangled scream pierced the air from down the hallway.

Delicious.

She grinned to herself, giggling into her cup, letting her eyes slip closed before she leaned for another sip of tea.

The angry, rapid clunk of Junkrat's metal leg resounded down the hallway, but still she did not budge, preferring instead to enjoy her tea.

When he threw open her door, she did not turn to face him. He stamped to her side, pulling her office chair to spin and face him. Fluttering her eyes open dreamily, she took in his chattering teeth and trembling, frostbitten, blue lips.

It had worked perfectly.

"Wh-what on earth made y-ya think that fre-freezin' me M-M-MOUTH shut was a GOOD IDEA, Frosty!?"

She chuckled quietly, satisfaction curling richly in her chest.

"Well, someone had to get you to hush, you criminal scum."

His eye twitched, and his fingers began to curl into black claws. The sight of his balled fists made Mei slightly uneasy- had she gone too far? Did her prank actually hurt him? She had only meant to startle him.

"H-hey….Are you alright?" I-I didn't really hurt you, did I?", she mumbles to him, voice tinged with concern, "I think I have some healing cream for frostbite if you ne-!?"

Junkrat stood before her, looming over her like a gargoyle, with her hairpin in his hand.

She didn't process the sight until she reached up to pat her head, and upon feeling the soft strands free of her signature bun, her heart plummeted into her stomach.

"J-Junkrat...p-please….put that back."

Panic crept into her veins as he refused her request, instead turning over the pretty trinket in his mechanical clutches.

"Nah, love. Don't think I will. In fact, I think I'll hold onto this for a while, hm? Not like you could reach it, anyway. What are ya, a centimeter tall?"

His cackling began to take on a muffled effect as it echoed in her ears, blood rushing to her head and heart thrumming like a bird in her throat.

"P-please…", she croaked.

He bent close to her face, eyes burning.

"Wazzat, love? Don't trust me wit ya little bauble 'ere? Oooh, that's cold!"

He erupted into maniacal laughter once more, and her vision swam.

He wasn't supposed to have this. She wasn't supposed to have let anyone this close. In his hands was her heart, her life, her everything. Feebly, she extends a hand to paw at him. Ignoring her, he jeers on.

"Its certainly pretty, yeah? Especially this little red bit here. Genuine ruby, from the looks of it. Must've been pretty expensive, those're pretty hard to come by these days. Probably worth quite a sum! Mind if Roadie and I go halfsies?"

Junkrat was enjoying this, watching the fiery little woman squirm. Who had known she was the materialistic type? Probably went to a good university, all-expenses paid, graduated at the top of her class. Probably had a loving family waiting for her at home, all smiles and home-cooked meals and proud "I love you"s waiting for her upon her return. To shatter that sort of blind, careless, privileged vision of the world in his hands was the sole reason he existed.

He would enjoy watching the spoiled girl fall.

A tiny hand, trembling and fisted against his chest, momentarily stopped his hateful train of thought in its tracks. Glancing down, he realized that he could no longer see Mei's eyes. Instead, she was hunched halfway against his abdomen, fat tears dripping from behind her shroud of chocolate bangs and onto the floor below.

"Jamison…...p-please…", she squeaks, voice a near-inaudible whisper.

He chuckles nervously, confused by the sudden change of mood.

"O-oi, what's got you all fucked up?"

Her fist hardens against his sternum, and she shoves it into him hard, pressing his breath out from beneath her knuckles.

"Give it back."

His brows knit spitefully at her, his vitriol securely back in place. What a brat.

"And what if I don't, ah? Ya little pest."

Her eyes shoot to his, frigid and boiling and irate. Her voice, normally birdlike and sweet, charges forth in a wild, angry scream. Her hands are poised against his skin as though they could plunge into his chest and tear out his still-beating heart.

"GIVE IT BACK!"

The familiar look of utter despair in her glittering brown eyes is what breaks his resolve, and he carefully uncurls his fingers from around the fragile ornament, lowering it to her so she can take it from him.

She snatches it from his hand, clasping the needle-like charm to her heart like a lifeline.

"Go."

Her lips are cold and numb as they sculpt the word, her voice a blizzard in his ears.

"S-shit mate, its just a little hairpin, yeah? No need to go apeshit about it. Y'can always buy another one. Don't cry, 'kay?"

At his words, her heart squeezes like a hand at her windpipe and a sob wracks her entire body. She could never replace what the pin had meant to her.

It was like the cherry-red orb held within it all the happiness of her previous life, all the warmth she had lost. It had been a gift from her friends and family from her home town, each having saved up a share in order to pay for it. It was intended to be a memento, a reminder of what she could always return home to while she was away. Now it was a scarlet ghost, suspended just above her like a heaven she could no longer reach.

The very idea of losing it nearly choked her.

"Go!", she repeats,

And so, bristling with an emotion he couldn't describe, he went.

And again, she was alone.

Chapter 4: Good Intentions, Durable as Flint.

Notes:

Writing this is honestly pretty cathartic for me at the moment, so I don't think the flow of updates will be slowed any time soon. I plan to develop this one rather slowly, so strap in kids- you're in for the long ride n v o<3.

Also, hmu @spearmintspectre.tumblr.com!!! We should definitely talk about Meihem. Sit down, get cozy, let me paint your nails, aND FEED ME YOUR HEADCANONS AGHHHH<3!!!

Chapter Text

Junkrat lay awake that night, emotions still pecking at him like buzzards.

The look on her face was one beyond devastation, as though he held her very heart in his clutches.

His hand fists against his sternum, the pressure of her touch still lingering on his dappled skin. Her voice, raw like a wound, reverberated in his ears like the howl of winter's wind. What had made her react like that? Rolling over in his bed, he turned to face Roadhog, who was doing his nightly reading.

"Oi."

The beast of a man ignored him, comically oversized fingers thumbing gingerly through a copy of Jane Eyre, a reading light clipped to the side of his leather mask. His peppery hair was unbound, falling just to his shoulders in gleaming silvery threads, and he sported only a pair of pig-patterned pajamas.

"Fucks sake, mate, listen, wouldja!?"

Roadhog sighed, bookmarking his page, and turned to face his partner in crime.

"What is it this time, 'Rat? Out of tapioca again?"

Junkrat rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose at Mako's snark.

"Har-dee-har, very funny, fuckwit. No. 've gotta question for ya, actually."

When his friend didn't reply, Junkrat took his silence as the signal to keep going.

"You know anything about that little doe-eyed science chick? Leeah? Mia, is it?"

Again, the beast sighs, pressing a finger to his temple.

'Her name's Mei, 'Rat. Mei-Ling."

Junkrat clicks his tongue, sitting up and undoing the clasps of his harness, letting it slide off his shoulders and carefully setting it onto the floor beside him. His fingers set to work on rubbing away the marks it left on his skin, rough nylon leaving his flesh pink and chaffed.

"Whatever. Anyway, the fuck's her deal?"

His question makes Roadhog still, slowly turning his hidden face to look at Junkrat.

"What do you mean?", he says, voice gruff and doubtful.

At this, Junkrat grumbles irritably and turns his eyes away from Mako, thin fingers scratching the base of his neck awkwardly.

"W-well…...I was only just messin' with her, yeah? And all of a sudden she flips her lid! You'da thought she'd seen the devil himself!"

Roadhog gives him a steely glare.

"Messing with her?"

Junkrat shifts in his seat, unsettled by the feeling of Roadhog's cold, heavy stare on his face.

"Yeah, just playin' around y'know? Plucked the lil' bauble thingy offa 'er head and all of a sudden she goes ballistic! Was only jokin' with her."

Roadhog is silent at first, but then draws in a long breath.

"Jamison."

Junkrat's fingers curl at the sound of his given name coming from his companion's thunderous voice. Roadhog was always unpredictable, especially when Junkrat had done something stupid.

"Y….yeah, 'hog?", he asks quietly.

"Try not to fuck this one up."

Junkrat turns and looks at him, tentative confusion evident in his slack, cowed face.

"Eh?"

A deep exhale hisses from beneath Roadhog's mask, his enormous fingers still poised over the fragile spine of his book.

"You heard me. We've got something good going here. Good pay. Beds, here. Food, here. Unless you miss spending the night in my sidecar, I suggest you watch your mouth around these people. Don't give any of them a reason to mistrust us. We're not exactly their first pick. They'd gladly turn us out on our asses by morning."

Junkrat groans in annoyance, mussing his soot-covered blonde mop of hair in his hands and flopping down in a childlike fuss onto his mattress.

"Dammit Roadie, ya know i'm no fuckin' diplomat, right?"

"Don't have to be. Just don't raise any alarms."

Jamie sighs, pulling a thin blanket over his head. Roadhog could be such a hardass sometimes.

"What do you suppose I do about the dame then, huh? Little ol' Ming or whatever the fuck it was?"

He swallows thickly, not wanting to face the hollow look in her ink-dark eyes again.

"Mei-Ling," Roadhog breathes, " And just act decent for once."

"Right, right, decent. Next you'll want me sportin' a tophat and monocle, yeah? Sippin' a fuckin Gin n' Tonic, flippin' through a copy of King Lear?"

Just then, Roadhog's dense book sails through the air, connecting smartly with the back of Junkrat's skull, earning a pained squawk from the mouthy lump of blanket.

"Wiseass."

Chapter 5: Ghosts in Boxes

Notes:

Ouch, ouch.

Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch.

Ouch.

Chapter Text

When Mei stirred the next morning, she awoke to find that her throat was sore and her were eyelashes clinging together as a result of her previous weeping fit. Her torso felt as though it were made of solid lead as she lifted it up and out from under the covers, heavy and useless. She had fallen asleep crying and had neglected to take her glasses off, the thick frames now sat slightly crooked on her nose. Taking them off to adjust them back into proper place, she could see, even with her blurry vision, the many lash streaks and tear spots that mottled the lenses.

"Pathetic.", She sighs to herself as she cleans them away with her shirt.

Wiggling the now-clean frames up her nose with a push and a few scrunches of her face, she glances to read the numbers on her clock.

4:48 AM. Gosh, that was early.

"Well…," she murmurs, running a hand through her hair, "Mission brief is at noon. I suppose I could go back to sleep for a little while."

Upon touching her hair, her fingers were met with tangles, most likely from a fitful sleep. Plucking up a brush and hair tie from her nightstand, she set to work on brushing away the slightly painful knots in her thick dark hair. Once it laid flat against her back again, she tied the locks into a ponytail to ensure that they wouldn't mat up again as she slept. She recalled her mother's chiding words, that it was bad for her hair to sleep with it bound, but Mei had never been particularly worried about little things like that.

She smiled wistfully, heart tugging in her breast.

Mother.

She laid back down, rolling herself up into a cocoon of blankets, and closed her eyes once more. It had been too late, however, and sleep's hazy fog had begun to clear from her mind, leaving her alone with just her thoughts. Images of the prior evening slithered back into her mind like black unwelcome slugs, making her draw into herself like a child.

Mei had let herself come completely undone in front of Junkrat. She scoffed at herself bitterly. 'So much for promising them you'd be brave', she thought. She pulls her hands out from beneath the covers, picking numbly at her bright blue nail polish. Blue had always been her favorite color.

Returning to Overwatch had been a good distraction for Mei, and one that was desperately needed at that. Since she had woken up from cryostasis to find a world that had both crumbled and moved on without her, she had become a true workaholic. Mei's mind always needed something to observe and her fingers were always jotting down field notes or tinkering with some sort of upgrade for Snowball. Meeting up with friends, old and new, had been a delight for Mei. Seeing Angela Ziegler again had been like witnessing a miracle.

But when she was alone, she had to do all she could to press the memories of her family and colleagues out of her mind.

She vividly remembered awaking in the wreckage, air filling her lungs in a rush so quickly it made her eyes ache.

The migraine had come first, then the panic. She recalled stumbling around aimlessly before realizing where she was, where she had been. Her vision had cleared to find her friends and colleagues all marbleized in permafrost, flesh relics of the lives that once had been.

She wandered wide-eyed through the room, feeling like a patron at some sort of terrible art museum.

Her companions lay sleeping within the glassy cases, their eyes gently shut and lips calm and still. She remembered desperately punching at the controls of each case, trying every code she could imagine to get them to open before she had realized that they had all powered down long ago, and the slumber her friends lay in was no longer temporary.

She had screamed and wailed, logic leaving her as she frantically pounded her still-tingling fists against the plexiglass doors as though if she made enough of a fuss, their eyes would open and they would step out of the chambers of their own accord.

Memories crashed around her like glass. The moments she had spent reading and studying late at night with her peers, discussing solutions with them, feeling as though her hopes were justified and just knowing that she could save the future, had disappeared like the snowflakes on her warming skin.

But what had shattered her was the news of her family's deaths in the bloodbath of the Omnic Crisis.

"WHY!?", she had screamed, "IT HASN'T EVEN BEEN THAT LONG! THEY ALL SHOULD STILL BE ALIVE! THIS ISN'T FAIR!"

Her voice broke, a terrible sound.

"I WAS SUPPOSED TO COME BACK HOME!"

"I PROMISED!"

Mei rolled around, thrashing herself back into sensibility. 'No, no. No no no,' she thought, scrubbing hot tears away. She couldn't let herself get dragged back into an episode like this again. She had to rest, she wouldn't be a burden. She would carry on the hopes of her dear ones until the day she died.

She would fight for the world she had loved when she fell asleep and the world she still stubbornly loved even when she awoke.

Cracking her eyes open, she checks the clock to see how much time she has left to sleep.

8:37 AM.

Dammit.

Chapter 6: Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Notes:

I'm back <3! Sorry for the little pause in updates there: I was at freshman orientation for college for the past few days!

In celebration, I'll be cranking out as many chapters as I can for the next few days! I have tooons of ideas in mind.

Thanks for your patience and patronage n v o!!!!!

Chapter Text

Mei fidgeted in her seat, trying to keep herself awake as fellow members of Overwatch began to file into the Briefing Room. Winston stood at the forefront of the room, shuffling and adjusting files in his enormous hands. Catching eyes with her, he gave her a brief salutatory smile before turning back to stand behind his podium.

She was soon joined by Tracer, who handed her a paper cup of black tea with plenty of cream and sugar, just how she liked it. Thanking her quietly, she holds the little cup in her hands, resting it on her thighs. Tracer bends to look into her face, bright eyes examining her friend’s face.

“What’s the matter, love? Not like you to miss out on tea. I always see ya stirring cream into your cup at the coffee table during mission briefs!”

Mei smiled gently at Tracer, rubbing at her sleepy eyes with the back of her hand behind her glasses.

“No no, Lena. I’ll be alright. I suppose I didn’t sleep well is all. No need to worry.”

Tracer’s mouth twitches into a pout, but she resolves to leave Mei to her own business.

“Okay, love. Just know that you can always talk to me, okay?”

Mei smiles once more, genuinely thankful for her kind friend, and nods.

She takes a sip of the hot drink and sighs, hoping the caffeine will help to wake her up. Lifting her eyes to the crowd of heroes, she takes a quiet mental roll call of her teammates. D.Va sits beside Lucio, showing him something on her phone that makes the both of them smile and laugh. Soldier 76 sits beside them, ramrod still, waiting for the briefing to start. When her eyes drift farther back in the rows, however, her heart stills in her throat.

Junkrat and Roadhog are sitting side by side, the former propping his prosthetic leg up on a second chair. Roadhog has settled down into three chairs, sipping from a cup of his own. Looking down at Junkrat’s hands, Mei’s chest lurches. It’s not the unidentifiable lump of metal parts he’s tinkering with that makes her breathing hitch- Its his hands.

Just a matter of hours ago, those hands held everything that had ever had meaning to her in their clutches. His nails were painted jet black and his skin was coated in a seemingly permanent layer of soot. He had spindly fingers with strong knuckles, the palm of his flesh hand was broad, scarred, and smudged. His mechanical hand glinted coldly in the fluorescent lighting like a threat. She shuddered- the unspeakable evils those hands had likely committed were probably innumerable.

Feeling the burn of his eyes before she saw them, she froze to her spot when she looked to find that he had noticed her staring. The color of his eyes seared her into hers like embers, and he seemed to observe her warily, mouth parted in an unreadable expression.

Then he did something rather unexpected. Rather than his typical predatory grin, he lifted his metal hand and waved at her: once, twice. His lips offered something of an awkward chuckle, and the hand that had waved at her quickly delved behind him to rub at his neck awkwardly. His lips twitch into an uneasy smile.

She sucks in a breath, whipping her gaze back to the front of the room to nail her focus back onto Winston.

If she hadn't been awake before, she certainly was now. What the hell had just happened?

She shakes her head and forces herself to exhale, fingers curling on her knees in the fabric of her leggings. She wouldn’t let him near her again.

The prank war at least had some semblance of playfulness to it, or at least so she had thought. The events of yesterday had made her reconsider. Mei was now convinced: This man was not someone to play with or joke around with. He could and WOULD hurt her.

Huffing and clenching her hands into tiny fists, he made a promise with herself that she wouldn’t let him deter her from her goals. She would avoid him at all costs. Pulling her pen and notebook from one of her many coat pockets, she set to work on absorbing as much information as she possibly could on their upcoming mission.

It was revealed that they would be heading to Egypt on an escort mission and were being split into small groups. She had breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that she had been grouped with Tracer and Zarya, and Junkrat had been selected as a precautionary measure alongside Lucio and Roadhog. A part of her took pity on the DJ: he was kind, friendly, and optimistic no matter what was thrown at him, but she wasn’t sure how he would fare being paired with the rowdy duo.

Winston warned them that this particular mission could potentially become very dangerous very quickly, and that the arid climate wouldn’t be forgiving.

Without a second thought, she etched a reminder to bring water bottles at the bottom of her notes.

The briefing came to a close and they were all dismissed. Hurrying to gather her things, Mei all but scrambled over to the recycling bin to throw away her paper cup and make a hasty exit.

Racing through the double doors, she exhaled a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding, certain that she’d made a decent getaway.

She began to walk quickly down the corridor, back to the safety of her quarters, when the sound of rapid metal clacking behind her and the feeling of a firm grip on her wrist made her freeze in her tracks.

Chapter 7: A Pit Full of Fire

Notes:

I am absolutely overwhelmed with the kindness and enthusiasm I've received from this fic, both here on Ao3 and on FF.net.

Thank you from the bottom of my little ghosty heart q w q.

I headcanon that Junkrat feels he has little to live for other than a good time, so....

This chapter is a little darker than others.

With every rainstorm, however, there is a rainbow to come <3.

Je t'aime, and once again- thanks for reading!!

Chapter Text

“Oi, wait a sec!”

At the sound of his voice, she had whirled around in terror. Her gaze trailed up his long arm, stopping at his collarbones before she willed herself to look him in the eye, mouth agape like a fish.

“I needa talk to ya.”

She squints her eyes shut and swallows, steeling herself. So much for steering clear of him and not slipping into another episode.

The way her lips press together and her eyes squeeze shut make Junkrat’s stomach swim. Her fingers twitch and pull at the hem of her parka, and she stands knock-kneed and pigeon-toed.

Was she trembling?

He clears his throat, discomfort scuttling over his skin like spiders. Apologizing was an art Junkrat had not yet mastered.

“Jeez, mate, I’m not gonna fuckin’ eat ya.”, he mumbles, cowed by her shrinking appearance. He scuffles his booted foot on the ground, chest tight for some reason.

She cracks one eye open, but doesn’t look him in the face.

“Now...I dunno what I did...but it seemed to spook ya pretty bad. And….that was shitty.”

Mei blinks, astonished. Was he going to apologize to her?

“But I don’t see what the issue was. I think ya hair looks fine when its down.”

Her stomach sinks. Oh.

Was he seriously this dense?

Her skin prickles.

Or was…..

Or was he making fun of her again?

Her lips seal into a tight little line and anger bubbles against her chest. When she finally looks up into his face, her eyes shoot ice into his veins.

“You’re a monster.”

 

He jolts suddenly, as though he were thrown into arctic water.

“W-...what?”

She stalks toward him with solid shoulders, breathing loudly.

“I don’t know what possessed you to crawl out of that irradiated wasteland you came from, nor what struck Winston to recruit the two of you lowlives, but I’ll have you know that my work is important. The things I do are for the benefit of mankind, not just for some cheap sadistic thrill like the ruin you bring with you wherever you go. No one needs nor certainly wants you around, especially not me. Kindly stay out of my life.”

A shudder runs through him.

Mei could’ve sworn she saw hurt flash against his eyes- but then they grew dark. He unfurls his chest and shoulders, standing to his full height. His trembling hand reaches slowly, tentatively forward, before shooting forth to fist the fur of her collar in his hand, pulling her close. His golden canine is bared among his exposed teeth in a snarl and his eyes burn in the dim light of the hallway.

“You don’t know shit, girlie. I suggest ya learn some fuckin’ manners if ya know what's good for ya.”

Intrepid, she draws nearer to him, eyes like steel and face inches from his. The cold mouth of her Blaster nips his exposed flesh.

“Back away, Jamison. Now.”

He swallows, the chill of the metal sending cold blood down the veins of his arm.

Her aim gnaws at him.

Her gun is poised against his collarbone, carefully avoidant of his subclavian artery. She could kill him here, if she wanted to- an icicle at this point-blank range would be an easy end to him. But her gun was not pressed to his heart. If she shot him now, she’d only wound him at best. Ten minutes in the clinic, sitting in the glow of Mercy’s staff, and he’d be fine.

He eyes her then- she’s not a stupid woman. She knows what she’s doing.

She wouldn’t shoot to kill, and it gnaws at his guts

He backs away, giving her shoulders a quick, short shove to create some distance.

“Tch.”

Junkrat turns to face the hallway, and she can only see the shadowy patterns left by his spine and wiry back muscles in the failing fluorescent light. His breathing is steady and his posture is as straight as a string.

“You sure got a big mouth for someone who’s too chickenshit to even aim straight, mate.”

This catches her off-guard, causing the hand that gripped her blaster to slide down to her side.

“W….what?”, she squeaks.

He laughs spitefully, twirling to face her in a drunken, dancing sort of way. His expression is bitter and his voice is dry.

“Not like you’re wrong, mate. I’m basically just alive for the fun of it at this point. And yeah, sure as shit- nobody needs me here. But I’m having a blast, so if you’re gonna be the end of me, ya better bring one hell of a finale to the show, yeah?”, he rasps, lips pinched taut.

She’s speechless again, and he snorts, smiling wryly, before turning back around to make his way down the hall and to his quarters.

Mei’s heartbeat slowed.

This was wrong. His voice, his expression- it was all wrong.

Junkrat was loud, obnoxious, and boisterous. Sarcasm fit him well enough, but this? This hadn’t been sarcasm. This wasn’t quippy or biting, as was typical Junkrat fashion. His eyes and tone had been flat and hollow. The joke was there, sure, but there had been no humor to it. This was nonchalance, apathy. As if he truly didn’t care whether he lived or if he-

If...he...

She sucks air back into her lungs, the thought gripping suddenly at her heart. Her lips part and she summons her voice to call his name.

“Junkrat, wait!”

He hears her, but he doesn’t turn around, only lifting his arm lazily to wave to her from behind and continuing to walk away.

“Cheers, Snowball.”.

Chapter 8: Why We Fight

Notes:

Warning for some hinted-at suicidal tendencies.

We love you Momma Mercy TT A TT!!!!

Chapter Text

Mei now stood alone in the grey hallway, guilt making a nest of her insides.

She nibbled the inside of her bottom lip, wringing her hands. Had she made a mistake?

The look on Junkrat's face had been so familiar to her. It took her back to a place in her mind that she had buried long ago beneath bricks of will and mortar of spite.

After Mei had lost her family, she had become a recluse.

She holed up in her apartment bedroom, never going out to face society. They say that ruin spreads: from the heart, to the mind, to the body, to the world surrounding. Mei had been no exception.

Crumpled up papers which had been covered in unsatisfactory observations and research notes had littered the floor of her room. Her clothing lay in piles, strewn about the floor. Her hair had grown unkempt and wild, her skin dull, her eyes dim. If she was hungry, she'd call in takeout. She didn't keep track of her sleeping patterns, interchanging from going two days without rest to sleeping for 16 hours of the day. It was though she didn't live at all.

She simply waited.

For what, she didn't know. She had an idea, but the thought of it was too dark for her to accept. She had chased it away whenever it arose, numbly burying herself in her work.

As she stood in the silence, her hands began to shake. Remorse clawed away inside of her heart, and her blood froze as suddenly she realized:

She knew nothing about him.

All the news stories of the Junkers' crime sprees, the rumors, the fear: they were the only basis she had of his identity.

She had spent this entire time hating him for what he didn't know and for being insensitive and cruel, while she was the one who had seen only his shadow and immediately dubbed him a monster.

Pride and indignance rotted into shame in her heart, and she began to fret. She had to find out for herself what was wrong.

She had all but sprinted to Mercy's clinic, throwing the door open and causing the poor medic a terrible fright. Dr. Ziegler immediately jumped up from her desk and rushed over to Mei, who was breathing hard from the run. Her worried eyes ran the climatologist up and down, and she gently took her by the hands.

"Mei-Ling, are you alright? What's the matter?"

Her beautiful blue gaze settled on Mei's face, gently ordering her to answer. She frowned softly, seeing no evidence of physical injury.

"Is it your migraines again?"

Mei shook her head, fighting to catch her breath, and gently waved Mercy away.

"No, no, its not me….I just….I need some answers."

Mercy straightened, face softening. Now that she knew for certain that Mei wasn't in any critical danger, she allowed friendly concern to seep into her expression. She lays a pretty, slender hand on Mei's wrist, and smiles kindly.

"What do you need, dear?"

Mei finally looks up, her face grave and serious.

"I need to know what's wrong with Junkrat."

Mercy's brows shoot up in surprise before she grins, allowing herself to giggle fondly.

"What isn't?"

Mei gasps softly at her misunderstanding and shakes her head again, closing her eyes and opening them again to look her friend square in the eye.

"No, Angela...I don't mean his morals. I mean his well-being. Did something…..", she pauses, sucking in a breath.

"Did something happen to him?"

Mercy's face falls, her topaz eyes glancing away to avoid Mei's jasper ones.

'You know I can't tell you that, Mei-Ling. I took an oath."

Mei's gloved hands reach to clasp Mercy's, her eyes widening with worry.

"Please, Angela. Something is wrong, very wrong. And I think I've made a mistake. You've examined everyone in Overwatch, and you've read every inch of our background files. There must be something!"

Mei's round eyes are shining now, regret and worry making her face tense. It wouldn't have been the first time Angela had seen the woman cry, but she'd prefer to keep it from happening again. Mei's sadness was a terribly contagious thing.

Mercy bites her lip, seemingly wrestling with herself over something before finally looking to Mei and smiling weakly, relenting.

"I can tell you this, Mei: The nuclear events weren't very kind to him."

Turning away to pace around her clinic, she laughs bitterly, raising a black-gloved hand to thread into her blonde hair.

"In fact, it's a miracle he's even still alive. How he's not..."

She pauses and licks her lips, exhaustion evident in her voice. When she turns to face Mei again, her eyes are dim and haunted.

"...riddled with cancers….is a miracle. He managed to pay for his life with an arm and a leg. Well, and a patch of hair.", she laughs softly then, a pitiful attempt at masking her tired sadness.

"Among other things."

At her words, Mei can't stop the tears that begin to roll down her cheeks. Her chest began to burn and her throat prickled. Details were unnecessary: Mercy's face had spoken volumes.

He had been caught in the wreckage during the Omnic Crisis, and had lost his home.

A sob broke from Mei's chest, her lip trembling.

She had been so terrible to him.

Mercy took notice of Mei's distress immediately, reaching a delicate hand to cup her friend's wet cheek.

Mei hiccuped and sniffed, guilt flooding her heart.

"I-I-I called him a monster!", she wailed.

Mercy sighed, a knowing smile on her lips.

"You didn't know any better."

Mei exhaled a shuddering breath and wept, burying her face in her hands and crumpling down to her knees. Her tiny, miserable keening echoed throughout the sterile clinic, its echo bouncing from wall to metal wall.

Mercy knelt before her and gently spread her arms like the wings she wore on the battlefield, offering Mei a place to dry her tears. Mercy swallows thickly, willing away her own sadness before bending to speak softly into Mei's ear.

"It's hard to be people like us, isn't it? Feeling pains that aren't your own while all you can seem to do is stand by and wait with bandages on the sidelines, making your best guesses on what to do next to best protect them."

Mei's weeping turned to full-on crying, tucking herself into the matronly angel's welcoming arms.

"I care about you too, Mei. Just as much. And our world is filled with those in need of healing."

Mei looks up at her, her eyes red and shimmering with tears. Mercy gracefully produces a handkerchief and pats at the scientist's flooded cheeks, smiling assuredly to her, her blue gaze firm and bright.

"And that is why we fight."

Chapter 9: For Better Or Worse

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The day of the mission had come, and the Egyptian sun was no more forgiving than she'd imagined. What was worse was that Mei was in little condition to fight, her mind completely elsewhere as she and the rest of her teammates were transported to the mission location.

She sat in the back of the clunky armored van, cradling Snowball in her hands, turning him from side to side and back again as though examining him for damage.

Her tiny robotic friend was doing his own survey of her as well- the stormy look in her typically warm brown eyes was cause for concern. It beeped low and hush, rolling into the softness of her palm in a pseudo-hug.

Lucio, who sat next to her, took notice of her gloom, and raised a hand to gently touch her back.

"Hey, you okay Mei? You're lookin' pretty down."

When she turns, his earthy, cheerful eyes are as sweet as always as he speaks, and it makes her guilt-laden ribs feel even heavier. Lucio had always been a force of positivity, no matter who he was teamed up with.

Mei only wished she had the inner spark that he had, always shining, always encouraging.

Instead, she had hurt someone who had only just started to consider fighting for good.

She offers him a deflated smile, scooting her fallen bangs out of her face.

"I'm….okay, Lucio. Really."

He lifts a brow, pursing his lips in a teasing show of doubt. He always tried to get a smile or a laugh out of people, even when they were sad.

"Lying isn't cool, Mei. I can see it on your face- you're totally out of step! Now, what's wrong?"

The hand on her back gives an encouraging pat, and his open smile shines gently in its place.

She supposed it would be nice to talk about it a bit, especially to clear her head before the mission. She sighed, letting the weight in her chest budge a little.

"I…messed up, Lucio. I made assumptions about someone who I didn't even know, and while trying to protect myself and my friends, I only wound up hurting someone who didn't deserve it."

"Aaah..,", he nods, making his locs sway softly, "I think I get what you mean."

He turns to face her then, putting his other hand on her unoccupied shoulder.

"Listen, Mei- sometimes we do bad stuff we think is right because we're scared. It's no secret that Overwatch is made of all different types, and that not all of us are gonna get along at first. But you know what?"

His eyes sparkle with meaning, and he gives her arms a gentle squeeze.

"Somehow, we're all here, fighting for the same cause. And it's a good one, I believe that. So don't let all the details get to your head, Mei- the past is long gone. What matters is what we're doing now."

She smiles, her heart swelling once more with hope. Lucio was so wise and so kind. It kind of betrayed his baby-face. Gosh, she was getting old! The thought made her giggle.

"Aww, hey, there you go!", he beams, physically brightening at the sound of her laughter. "You just gotta remember- we're in this together, for better or worse."

She grins in turn, nodding with him. Her eyes glance up to see Junkrat, snoozing in a drooly pile a few seats away on his partner's round belly.

She would make things right.

"For better or for worse."

The transport vehicle rumbled to a stop, unloading its first passengers at their designated station. Lucio looked to Mei, who had fallen into a tiny doze of her own against his shoulder. He smiles softly, patting her gently awake.

"Heeeey, Mei. I gotta go now, okay? See you on the other side."

She stirs, blinking a few times before jumping to attention. She can feel her cheeks begin to glow rosy- how embarrassing!

"O-Of course, Lucio! See you on the field!"

He nods to her before giving her a salute, hopping gracefully out into the world beyond.

As the door slides closed, she notices Junkrat clambering noisily out onto the sandy earth. Part of her wonders how he'll fair in the sand with his metal peg leg.

"Jeezums, Roadie! Ya sweat like a fuckin' beast!"

His partner delivers a thunk to his head, making him squeal. At second glance, they seemed more like a late-night comedy duo than partners in crime.

Her thoughts grind to a halt, however, when she notices he's caught her staring, their eyes locking for a brief moment. Neither of them move, both trying to decipher what the other would do next.

She blinks, blush roaring back to life on her cheeks before she grounds herself, mustering all her courage to act. She had to be brave.

She waves- Once, twice. He blinks dumbly as she places her hands on either side of her mouth- was she talking to him?

"G-O-O-D. L-U-C-K.", she mouths, giving him a shy wave before the door closes completely, leaving him both sandy AND confused. He scratches his head, turning toward his giant of a partner and thumping his belly with the back of his hand.

"Oy, 'hog. Chick's actin' weird again. What say you?"

Roadhog hums with interest under his heavy mask, a grumbling sort of sound.

"I say your ass is luckier than you deserve."

Notes:

A/N: LORD. OF. MOSES. I have not touched this poor little story in EONS. I sort of fell out of the Overwatch loop for quite a while due to work, college, and a surprise surgery! Still though, I've been getting your sweet messages and reviews, and each of them have tugged on my heart. So, though it might be a little ooc now, I will see this fic to the end <3. It's totally not canon-compliant, and my Overwatch knowledge is definitely a little dated, but you guys deserve an ending <3.

Chapter 10: Mostly Worse

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The blazing heat of Egypt was no problem for Junkrat, nor was the resounding cacophony of explosions all around him. The ring in his ears shot tingling thrill into his nerves- he was in his element like this, no one could touch him. Roadhog stood a few meters away, guarding his scrawny companion with a heavy sling of his hook whenever foes drew too near.

The two were nearly unstoppable- one thug would try to skirt past Roadhog, they'd be tossed into the air with a cherry bomb. If someone tried to land a hit on Junkrat, they'd be slammed full-force into the dirt.

"This'n is for you!", Junkrat cackles, setting a trap off on a grunt running past. The teeth of the contraption snapped closed, chomping down on the leg of its target with a troubling crunch. Their shrieks were masked by Junkrat's hacking laughter, the rush of battle stringing him high.

"Oi, oi, don't go cryin' now! Lookie, we match!", Junkrat kicks his artificial stump into the air, hopping on one leg while he giggles wildly.

His eyes rattle in his head as his gaze darts about the battlefield from his perch on a bridge. For a moment, he spots Lucio racing past below. Good, he had health insurance if things went south. He shrieks with laughter again, pumping his trigger-wielding fist in the air with a jump.

"Easy as pie, ay Roadie!?"

"Shut up and watch the kid!", Roadhog yells, working double-time with his hook as more and more enemies kept piling on the scene. Sweat pours down his muscled back as he hauls each new foe into the air with a grunt, sealing their fate.

"Sourpuss…", he grumbles. "Wait….whaddaya mean 'kid'!? He's a year older than me, ya big ugly-"

"WATCH YOUR ASS, FAWKES!", Roadhog shouts, yanking a thug moments away from taking Junkrat's head.

A chill runs down his spine, and Junkrat swallows, thoroughly humbled. "Right, Go-gotcha!"

The battle rages on for a good twenty more minutes with no word from the escorts.

"Where the fuck is the payload!?", Junkrat hollers. "I'm runnin' low on shit to blow up!"

"That's because you keep fucking around!", Roadhog retorts, arms sore from the strain. "Focus on keeping Lucio safe, he's our only shot at making it out of this shitshow intact!"

Said healer shot from side-to side below, soft beams of lime light trailing behind his silhouette.

Lucio had been put in charge of signalling when it was safe for the payload to move and healing those who had been injured while protecting it, while Zarya cleared the way forward and Tracer skirted about she and Mei, warning them of enemy traps. Mei was put in charge of staying atop the payload, keeping it safe from harm with her endothermic blaster.

Junkrat, wearing thin on his patience, shouts to Lucio below.

"Oi, hopscotch! Any sunny news for yer mates up 'ere?! Gettin' real tired a' coverin' your green butt!"

Lucio huffs, narrowly missing a projectile piece of stray shrapnel from a bomb aimed too close.

"Point taken, Jamie, but I'll be honest- I've lost signal from 'em!", he calls.

Junkrat whirls on him, anger making his head pulse.

"What!? For how long, pea soup!?"

"About three minutes now! I was trying to see if our communicators went offline, but We can't wait here anymore, we have to go find our team!"

Junkrat growls, upset with being referred to by his nickname by a stranger, and stamps his leg against the stone. "You nuts, froggy!? We leave the objective and it'll be a fuckin' rat's nest when we get back!"

Lucio grunts, exhaustion making the muscles of his legs creak. "I hear ya, but we gotta make sure they're okay! Ships can wait for parts for a few days, but we can't make it without our team!"

Junkrat spits, growling in frustration. Heroes.

Roadhog hurdles himself over to his side, landing with a thud. The explosions and gunfire are deafening, but nothing can mask the boom of his voice.

"He's right, Jameson! No teammates means a failed mission, a failed mission means no employment, and no employment means no goddamn paycheck. Let's go!"

The three make their way to the northern base, the charred ruins of the payload coming gradually into view. The sight makes Lucio frenzied, gunning forth on his skates against the gritty stone path to get to the wreckage.

"Slow the fuck down, we can't keep the pests off'a ya when you're playin' leapfrog up there!", Junkrat shouts, running as fast as he can alongside Roadhog.

"They could be hurt, Jamie! They need a healer!", Lucio shouts, boosting himself forward into the fray, the urge to help clouding his judgement.

"OI, FROGGY, SNIPER AT 4 O'CLOCK, WATCH YOUR HEAD!", Junkrat screams, spotting none other than Amelie Lacroix, the Widowmaker, hiding in the window of an abandoned building. His warning comes too late, though, as she takes aim and pins Lucio in the leg with a smart bullet, a smirk on her face all the while.

He screams and loses his balance, the forward momentum of his skates sending him toppling head over heels into the sand in a wounded tangle. All the air leaves his lungs in a wheeze, and he blacks out against the stone of a wall.

"Shit!"

In the distance, Roadhog spots a familiar pink-haired bulk lying in a bleeding heap near the roadside. He squints through dust-coated lenses to see Tracer's orange-clad legs sandwiched between the scrap of the payload, her right thigh bending where it shouldn't and her left ankle dangling at an odd angle.

"Where's Mei?!", Junkrat shouts, his hoarse voice rendered silent at the sight of Reaper fading slowly into view, tendrils of inky black whirling away to give shape to his form as he approaches.

"SHIT! IT'S AN AMBUSH!

Notes:

A/N: Boy howdy, it's a cliffhanger! Here's where the real meat of the story begins, y'all ( n v o)/! Since it's been such a long hiatus, I figure I should give you guys a double update! Things should move a little faster from now on. For now though, I gotta go to bed! I work in 3 hours :V!

Notes:

A/N: Wowowow, its been forever since i've written fanfic ;^;! I just saw that the meihem tags here brought up very little and had to fix it!

I like the idea of Mei being a bit of a little firecracker, since so many of her taunts are so sassy.

More to come~~!