Work Text:
Somehow and for some reason it was generally agreed that Mercy would be in charge of organizing stuff that need be organized. Mercy herself wasn’t too thrilled with the turn of events. Reinhardt, ever the gentleman, volunteered to help her, bless his heart.
“Alright now, let’s all be quiet and stop running around”, Reinhardt said.
Someone – probably Mei – screeched. Zenyatta knocked into Genji, causing a cacophony of metal and an endless circle of apologetic bows. D.va was still in her mech.
“People, come on, stop”, Reinhardt tried again, but wasn’t heard over Zarya dragging a table around. “Stop – sit down – don’t be like that, everyone, work with me here.”
Zarya slammed her left elbow on the table, staring at McCree. His eyebrows shot up.
“Left?” he said. Zarya spat on the floor in response, and gave him a cocky grin.
“That is disgusting!” Symmetra called.
“I have to agree”, Reinhardt tried again. “But please, don’t start this now-”
McCree put his metal hand in Zarya’s. Not five seconds later, they were both holding onto the table with their free hands, crouched over the wrestle.
“Enough!” Mercy hollered. Her wings sprang out wall to wall in the enormous hall, blinding the small crowd.
They fell silent.
“You two”, she pointed, “cease immediately. D.Va, get out of there right now. And Tracer, please, let go of Mei.”
They tripped over themselves in the hurry to comply. D.Va had to actually dive back in her mech to cancel the countdown she initiated in her haste.
“Now, I understand you are all jittery over the prospect of spending an intermediate amount of time in here with each other and little to no outside contact, but please. This will go over much more smoothly if we all cooperate and be civil.”
“Yes!” Reinhardt said. “It is very important that we stay united! There’s no point to petty arguments in here. We will all have to deal with one another, so let’s stay on good terms, okay?”
Some grumbled. Some responded with enthusiastic ‘okay’s. Most didn’t respond at all.
“Now then”, Mercy started with a professional smile. “This Overwatch facility is rather large, so I’m happy to assure you that you can, in fact, avoid someone for the majority of your stay here if you work it out with them, however, I don’t recommend it. For the sake of convenience, some things are standardized, but they can be changed to accommodate you. Thankfully I’m not in charge of that.”
Symmetra stepped forward. “After this meeting you can talk to me at any time about any issues you have with facilities, schedules, or assignments. From there, we may work something out.”
“What assignments? I thought we were stuck here!” Junkrat called.
“Chores, mostly. Some repairs may be in need, you never know”, Reinhardt clarified.
Junkrat slumped.
“So let’s get started, alright?” Mercy clapped her hands. Her smile was beginning to lose its realism. “Everyone can voice their thoughts and opinions on the topics we will discuss as long as you do it in a calm and orderly manner.”
No objection arose, so she continued.
“There will be a scheduling of food-making among any volunteers, but they will only be preparing breakfast, lunch and dinner. Any other meals you want to have, or at other times, will not be their obligation. And no one has to share a meal that they have not prepared as part of their cooking schedule. Any questions?”
“Do you do vegan?” Junkrat, again, called.
“I can’t guarantee that. I imagine there’ll at least be some sort of salad. Speak with Symmetra later if you want to have something arranged. Anyone else?”
Nah.
“Moving on. Out of courtesy for the work people have put into this base, we will try not to formally occupy the entirety of it. You can still wander around, I certainly won’t stop you. But we should only make full use of the southeast area of the building. This includes two kitchens and eight bathrooms, three of which are equipped with showers. Any of the numerous living spaces can be repurposed for any common room you may need, but they must stay common.”
“Don’t try to restrict access to any of the common rooms, she means”, Reinhardt said, seeing Mercy’s smile become more forced the more she talked. The pause seemed to refresh her.
“Yes, thank you. There are two training rooms that can survive pretty much any damage, so if you grow uneasy, go there. Don’t have real fights without support in there. I get that the surface of those rooms is easier to clean blood off of, but they are extremely sound proofed. Have support inside if you plan on bleeding.”
The crowd started making noise again.
“Please”, Reinhardt pleaded, “we’re almost done. Be patient.”
“So”, Mercy plastered her smile on again, “sleeping arrangements.”
The hall fell into chaos.
“Quiet!” Reinhardt yelled, to little avail. He embraced defeat when D.Va dove back in her mech.
Junkrat climbed and stood on top of Roadhog’s shoulders. Mei screeched again. There was a vague blue light among the room as Tracer blinked all over the place.
Zarya had gotten arms-to-arms with D.Va’s mech. Mercy’s right eye was twitching above her smile. Tracer blinked in front of her.
“Get me out of cleaning chores and I’ll quiet them for you?” Tracer tried.
Mercy let her head hung. “Please.”
Tracer blinked away with a giggle. Zarya let the mech go, and Tracer took her place in front of it. Somebody yelled. It was probably Junkrat.
D.Va stood on top of her mech. She hollered over the chaos, “Nerf this!”
- and deathly silence ruled at the mere idea.
“THANK YOU!” Mercy said. “Next time you all decide to behave like an unruly pile of children I will shoot first and make peace later!”
D.Va and Junkrat climbed down from their respective stools of choice.
“As I was saying, sleeping arrangements.”
Nobody said a word, thank god.
“I believe the most beneficial arrangement taking advantage of the facilities here is four-person rooming. Don’t argue, I’ll shoot first, watch me shoot first. All bedrooms in the southeast area have two bunk beds each; this is the most convenient arrangement. There will be a few rooms left, so if you want to room in one of those, again, talk to Symmetra. For the love of god just let me be done with this.”
“Who hurt her”, Junkrat said, too quiet for most to hear.
“For starters, can we all agree that deciding roommates based on gender will not work out with the bunch we have here?” Mercy said.
There were various noises of affirmation of various excitement. Notably the extremes were Genji not responding at all and Mei jumping up to plant a kiss on Zarya’s jaw.
Mercy clapped to get their attention. “The next best thing we have to go with is by age. I don’t know about you but rooming with Reinhardt is not my idea of convenient.”
Reinhardt turned in mock offense. “Why not?”
“You wake up at five thirty. I will not tolerate such torture before I reach your age, I’m afraid.”
“Five thirty is a good time to wake up.”
Ana stepped to his side. “The young ones need sleep, Reinhardt. More than you or me. Let them sleep.”
He scoffed, so Mercy continued. “Right, so we’ll go by age, okay?”
The crowd generally agreed. Junkrat buried himself in Roadhog’s side.
“Mate I wanna room with you”, he muttered.
“It won’t kill you.”
“You can’t know that.”
Roadhog just looked at him, so Junkrat had to admit defeat and tune back in to what Mercy was saying. She had turned around to look at the cube that was Bastion at this point.
“Bastion? Bastion, dear, are you planning on staying like that for as long we’re here?”
Bastion gave an affirmative series of beeps. Though no one in the room would ever be able to explain how the hell it was that the beeps could express anything.
“Fair enough”, Mercy said, turning back to look at the crowd. “Zenyatta, will you be needing a room?”
“Not at all, I require no sleep and would be saddened to occupy a bed someone else could be using. I can power down in any corner, I can’t in good conscience accept the comfort you’re offering.”
Mercy nodded. “I really don’t mean to be rude or insensitive, Genji, but what about you?”
“I, too, have no need for comfort, and I don’t need much sleep. I won’t need my own bed.”
“Thank you. So I’ll just list off names in sets of four and if anyone has any problem with the arrangements, for the love of god, later, to Symmetra. So, by age, we have D.Va, Junkrat, Lúcio, and Tracer, in room 16. Rooms 1 to 15 are southwest so we ignore them.”
Lúcio nudged his bag higher on his shoulder and rolled over in a green trail. “Race you there”, he told Tracer, and then he was gone. Tracer blinked after him with a grin on her face. D.Va and Junkrat looked at each other.
She offered the crook of her elbow. Junkrat decidedly did not look back up at Roadhog as he took it.
They walked with their arms linked like that up a flight of stairs and around the pale blue corridors until they realized neither of them had any idea where they were going. Thankfully Tracer let out a cheerful holler so they followed that.
Room 16 had two bunk beds, as promised, one on each side wall. There was a huge closet between them against the far wall, and it doubled as a nightstand for all four of the beds.
Tracer had made herself comfortable on the top left one.
No windows.
“Dibs!” She said. “I’ve called dibs. This is mine now. You can fight for the others, but this one is mine.”
D.Va shrugged. “Okay, chill. So what, do we go a bunk to guys and the other to girls?”
“That won’t work”, Lúcio said. “Both guys have prosthetic legs. You can’t exactly climb down the stair in a hurry with stumps.”
“Oh”, D.va said. She detached herself from Junkrat. “So I’ll get the other top one, I guess?” She moved to it.
“Fine by me”, Junkrat shrugged. “So which d’ you want, mate?”
“Either?” Lúcio said. He looked at the two perched on top of the bunks. “Which one do you want?”
Junkrat groaned. “Forget it. I’ll take this one”, he said, and sat down below Tracer on the left.
Lúcio hesitated, then sat on the right.
From the door none of them had thought to close, came Zarya’s voice.
“This one?”
“No, this is the young room. We’re the next one over”, Mei said. She waved into the Young Room as they passed by it. The Young Roomies waved back.
“Wait”, Lúcio said. “Junkrat, man, how old are you? If Zarya’s in the next room-”
“Mate I’m younger than you.”
Lúcio blinked. “You’re shitting me.”
“Twenty-five.”
Tracer leaned over. “Wait, you didn’t know? How old did you think he was?”
“I thought, like fourty?” D.Va said. “I mean, just the hair!”
“You didn’t know either? Whose age do you two also not know?”
“I don’t really know all that many”, she admitted.
“How old is your man Roadhog?” Lúcio said.
Your man, yeah that was the tone of a guy who knew what was happening. “Fourty-eight.”
D.Va spluttered “What?!”
“What.”
“You put your face on his face!” she pointed a finger at him.
“Oh like you have any room to talk, sheila.”
Tracer blinked down and leaned out of the doorway. “We’re the Young Room!” she called down the corridor.
The other three exchanged confused looks. Lúcio stood up. “Dude, why are you yelling?”
“You’re welcome, really! Come on!” she continued, flicking her wrist towards herself.
“I wouldn’t want to impose”, came a voice.
“Nonsense!” Tracer insisted.
Zenyatta floated in. Junkrat stood up.
“Greetings, everyone. Pardon my intrusion.”
“What intrusion?” D.Va giggled. “You’re younger than most of us here, and, I mean, this is the Young Room. You’re more than welcome to come along any time!”
“No he’s not”, Junkrat snarled.
“Oh, excuse me-” Zenyatta began.
“Nah, you’re not excused, tinman. Piss off.”
“Junkrat!” Tracer blinked in front of him. “Be civil!”
“I’ll be civil to people, not that fucking hunk a metal!” he pointed.
“Dude!” Lúcio said. “I have metal too. You have metal!”
“Yeah, I have metal. I’m not it.”
“Is that how you act to Genji? Or Bastion?”
“Genji’s a bloke with some serious prosthetics, and Bastion at least has the dignity not to parade as a human, even if he’s not any better. This one, on the other hand…”
“Do you harbor feelings of animosity towards me because of my nature?” Zenyatta said.
“Gee I wonder.”
“I find that rather unfair, discriminating my kind simply because we’re not organic.”
Junkrat pushed Tracer to the side and walked so close to Zenyatta that the latter’s ankles dug in Junkrat’s stomach. “Your kind burned an entire continent, mate. They filled my home with radiation. The Outback is dry, and harsh, and empty, because your kind didn’t give half a shit about anyone or thing that lived there.”
Zenyatta floated a bit higher to reach eye level. “If it is an apology you seek, I’m most willing to provide. I’m deeply sorry for what has become of your homeland and the life on it. But there’s nothing I can do to make it right.”
“Exactly”, Junkrat said, “So leave me here with my goddamn grudge, and get the hell out.”
“But Zenyatta himself didn’t do anything to hurt you or yours”, Tracer tried.
“No”, Zenyatta put a hand up. “Do not invalidate the way he feels; he is perfectly justified for it. He must work through it himself in order to reach peace.”
“Fuck your peace”, Junkrat hissed. “I’ve only known war.”
“I won’t burden you anymore. If you ever change your mind, I’m always willing to talk”, Zenyatta said. He gave a quick bow and left.
Tracer closed the door. “I had no idea there were people who thought that way”, she said. “I never thought there’d ever be real reason for anyone to hate omnics that much.”
Junkrat slumped down on his bed. “Good for you that you never had to think about it.”
D.Va caught his eye, and nodded. She gave an almost-military salute that made Junkrat think of metal monstrosities rising out of the ocean, again and again, to assault the coastline. Tracer and Lúcio didn’t speak as they went to sit at their respective beds.
The four looked at each other for a minute before D.Va pulled out her phone.
Junkrat stretched his spine as far as it’d go. The bunks were thankfully tall enough that he could sit up on the bed and not worry about knocking his head. It looked like there was less space between the top bunks and the ceiling, though. Then again, neither of the top bunkers were 6’6, so they’d probably be fine.
Tracer threw her gloves to the floor. She blinked down to pick up her bag, then recalled back up. Lúcio stood up.
“Who’s gonna mind if I change real quick?”
Junkrat shrugged.
“I’m fine if you are”, Tracer said offhandedly, rummaging through her bag.
D.Va leaned over until she had a clear view. “Go on”, she said.
If she thought he was gonna be phased she was dead wrong, because Lúcio looked her straight in the eye and pulled his shirt up over his head. D.Va whistled.
Junkrat was about to go rummaging through his own bag when Lúcio started taking off his legs. Then he had to watch.
Nothing seemed to be drilled to Lúcio’s bones, not his pelvis at least, because he just clicked the latches free and took the belt part off. He did the same for whatever was around his hips and the detachable plating, but then he sat down and pulled out a tool that looked like a screwdriver on one end and the tiniest crowbar ever on the other end. He used that to take the rest off.
He started on his right thigh, spent some time unscrewing and unhooking around the knee, and finally pulled the rest of the leg off.
Cut right below the knee. Huh. It was such a clean cut, too. The scars were confined to the actual cut part, hidden between the nerve connectors, didn’t snake up ugly and wild like Junkrat’s did.
Lúcio’s left leg went by faster, mostly because this one didn’t have a knee. Another pretty stump. He pulled on a shirt and some cargo shorts.
“Damn, we both lost the bet”, Junkrat said.
“Come again?”
“I had a bet thing going with Roadhog. I bet you weren’t actually an amputee, and those were just rollers. ‘Hog bet you were cut at the waist, otherwise why wear this whole thing.” Junkrat tore his eyes from the other’s stumps, looked him in the eye. “He’s never lost any flesh and bone. I was too bored to explain you couldn’t survive your speeds if you didn’t have something to keep the rest a you connected to your legs.”
There was a pause. “Well you’re not wrong”, Lúcio said. “I would die without the waist part.”
He placed his roller set in a neat pile and laid on his bed. Junkrat laid on his own without removing much more than the wheel and harness from his shoulders.
It was a while before D.Va groaned.
“What up, girl?” Lúcio called without bothering to open his eyes.
“There’s this level I can’t- oh hey. You can help me.” She hung her head off the side her bed to look at her bunkmate upside-down. Her hair almost reached his mattress. “I’m supposed to recognize some tune patterns but I can’t tell the instruments apart for shit. Help?”
“Sure thing, get in here.” Lúcio opened his arms.
D.Va scampered down the stair and made herself comfortable in Lúcio’s hug. She passed him one of her earbuds.
Lúcio hummed the tunes in between giving the answers. D.Va stayed there after the level was done.
“Did you hear that?” Lúcio said.
Junkrat paid no mind, though he was a bit curious about the game.
“I heard it too, love”, Tracer said. “What was it?”
D.Va pulled her earbud out. “I don’t hear anything.”
“No there it is!” Tracer said.
It took about four seconds of everyone lying perfectly still for Junkrat to realize the sound was a set of very slow and very heavy steps.
“Oi, it’s Roadie!” He said and jumped up off the bed. He threw the door open, found Roadhog a couple of doors down the hall. “Oi mate, here!” he waved.
There was a thud and a skitter so Junkrat looked over his shoulder into the room. D.Va was half fallen on the floor and Lúcio was in the process of sitting up in panic, though he was facing some difficulty due to his lack of counterweight. Both of them were staring like Junkrat was holding a gun to their heads.
“Uh”, he said, eloquently. He stepped out and closed the door behind him. “Hey”, he said.
“Hey.”
“So, who’re you rooming with?”
“Deathman and 76.”
“Good lot?”
“They don’t talk to each other. The tension is thick enough to take a bite out of.”
“Huh.” Junkrat fiddled with the plating of one of his fingers. “The Young Room is pretty chill, I guess. Though they tried to bring the omnic in.”
“Why.”
“I dunno, because he’d be twenty if he aged? I kicked him out.” He looked over his shoulder at the door with the 16 on it. “I think they might be mad at me.”
Roadhog didn’t respond, so Junkrat skipped over it.
“So what’s your room number, ay? Wouldn’t mind visiting at some ungodly hour of the night for some” he paused as he leaned forward “sweet innocent cuddles.”
“19 and you’re not coming in that room with Reaper judging from his corner.”
“Fucker has his own corner?”
“He brooded in it until it started emitting its own edgy aura.”
“Amazing.” Junkrat giggled. “Where are we gonna cuddle, then? You wouldn’t deny a poor crippled junker some harmless cuddles, would you?”
Junkrat thought his puppy eyes were hot shit and super effective. They really weren’t.
“Oh come on, Roadie! What if we hafta stay here two months, huh? I’m gonna snap I just know it.”
“Have a foursome with your roommates.”
“I cannot believe the nerve of you! I don’t wanna fuck whoever’s available, mate, I wanna fuck you!”
“You’d be against it?”
“Well I mean. If they agreed. And asked nicely. And, like, gave half a shit about me. I’m pretty sure at least one of them doesn’t swing my way. It’d be a threesome at best.” Junkrat shrugged. “Unless you’re there, of course, then we can cook up a proper foursome.”
“They’re small and I would crush them.”
“They’d be on top of you.”
“You’ve planned it already?”
“Yeah mate you mentioned it a solid thirty seconds ago. Plenty of time, plenty of brainpower related.”
Roadhog shook his head, gave a little puff of a breath that could have been a laugh.
“Aw, c’mon, mate, ‘s not like I would turn down the chance to join in on one of your planned trios to make it four.”
It was a more solid laugh this time. Junkrat put his hands on Roadhog’s neck until a big hand scooped him up to hold him at eye level.
“Ya think Reaper gives good head?”
“His mask is probably drilled onto his face.”
“Holy fuck.”
“And I’m repulsed you’d think of Reaper.”
“Can’t be worse than Daddy 76 tho.”
Roadhog finally gave one of his thundering guffaws, and Junkrat was right on his chest to feel it shake and resonate down into his own chest, into his lungs, echoing in the space there. He kissed the mask.
“Fuck I love you.”
Roadhog was still laughing. It was the kind that was so deep it sounded like he’d fall into an asthma attack any second now. Junkrat gave him another kiss, and another, then jumped down.
“So what are we supposed to do now? Anyone have any plans for anything anytime soon? Wow, so many ‘any’s.”
“I dunno.”
“I think Imma go back in and see if they actually hate me. Hope not. Keep your fingers crossed for me.”
Roadhog nodded. He pressed the front of his mask to the top of Junkrat’s head, then crossed his fingers and left. Junkrat waited for him to turn the corner before opening the door. Wouldn’t wanna go in blushing like a sunburned rat because your mate went along with your nonsense and accepted through-the-mask kisses as a form of affection.
He licked his lips. They tasted like leather.
Inside he found D.Va owl-eyed in the middle of the floor, Lúcio sitting with the sheets pulled up to his waist and clenched in his fists, and Tracer’s feet dangling from the bunk.
“What.”
“Dude!” D.Va started, already scampering to her feet. “You can’t just do that!”
“Yeah what the fuck, man? Don’t just invite people in when I don’t even have legs on!”
“It’s not like he hasn’t seen any stumps before”, Junkrat said with a pointed gesture at himself. “ ‘sides, yours are prettier than mine, he wouldn’t bat an eye.”
Tracer leaned her elbows on her knees. “Love I think it’s less of a matter of whether Roadhog’d mind and more about respecting Lúcio’s and D.Va’s comfort and privacy.”
“D.Va’s, why? She had legs on.”
D.Va threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know! Do you think it might be because I don’t want some rando walking in when I’m in bed with someone?”
“Yeah like”, Lúcio said, “Just because we’re just cuddling doesn’t mean we wanna advertise all over, you know?”
Junkrat didn’t know, but he saw the point. “Roadhog wouldn’t talk, though. You know he doesn’t talk.”
“Junkrat”, Tracer said, actually climbing down the stair rather than blinking. “It doesn’t matter what they were doing, or who was doing it, or who were to see.”
She spoke softly. It made Junkrat want to shift from foot to foot but he only had one of those, tough shit. He settled for fiddling with the plating of his pinkie.
“What matters is that they were having an intimate moment and they were fine with the two of us knowing, witnessing even, only because we are their roommates and they trusted us not to judge. We were here the whole time. Bringing in someone who is neither relevant nor explicitly invited here would be a bit like breaking that trust, because we’d have failed to recognize the intimacy that was happening.”
Over Tracer’s shoulder, D.Va and Lúcio exchanged a glance, then hurried to look away. D.Va’s face was red. Lúcio’s was too dark for any blushing to show but his expression conveyed the same thing.
“But you didn’t, love. You saw they were uncomfortable with the idea and stopped him from coming inside, going as far as to go outside yourself. The reason they’re – actually we, I’m included – the reason we’re upset is because you thought it’d be a good idea.”
Is Junkrat being scolded right now? Or is he getting a gentle lesson on privacy? He can’t tell but it’s probably the latter. Scolds don’t sound like this. Not to mention the last time he had an idea of the concept of privacy was that one time when Roadhog bothered to knock and actually wait for an answer before coming in. When was that, anyway?
“Oh. Uh. Okay. That never occurred to me, I guess. Sorry, mates, didn’t mean no harm by it.” Then, on a whim, “Hope you’re not mad.”
“Nah bro”, Lúcio relaxed already. “Just don’t do it again.”
“I dunno”, D.Va said. She crossed her arms. “I’m still kinda mad.”
“Oh come on, love.” Tracer put a hand on D.VA’s shoulder. “He didn’t mean it. It was just a lapse of judgment, is all.”
“Yeh, lapse a judgement. Sheila c’mon, how can I make it up?”
D.Va narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips. Junkrat thought of the leather taste on his own.
“Play me.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Play me a game. If you win, I won’t be mad. If I win, you still have to make it up.”
“Hold on. You’ll be happy if you lose and mad if you win? How the fuck?”
“Shush.” She turned to Lúcio. “Do you wanna repurpose one of the common rooms into a gaming room? You can set up station there, it’ll be fun.”
Lúcio blinked. “Huh. You know what, you go on ahead.” He gestured at the pile that was his legs. “It’ll take a while to catch up.”
D.Va grabbed a gaming set and a disc Junkrat didn’t recognize and took off, motioning him to follow. Tracer waved at them.
“Best two outta three, so maybe Lúcio can get here before I win”, D.Va said.
Junkrat lost. Of course he lost. Never mind his unfamiliarity with the software, the hardware was all but laughing at him. It was made for hands the size of D.Va’s. Junkrat’s flesh hand was big enough that he was bending all of his fingers weird; forget about the metal one.
Lúcio walked in a mere ten seconds before D.Va won the second round. It wasn’t until the two looked over that they remembered Lúcio wasn’t supposed to walk, but roll.
He had a pair of sleek prosthetic legs on. Their soles glowed. His right knee peeked under his shorts.
He had a console under one armpit.
“Is that all?” D.Va questioned, pointing at the console.
“Yeah buddy, didn’t really have much time to pack up. Couldn’t’ve brought any decent speakers anyway.”
“How come?”
Lúcio set the console down on the sole table of the room. “The smallest one I got is about twice the size of my head, heavy as shit. Mediocre sound. Good for demos, horrible for anything else. The second smallest weighs approximately half my body weight.”
“Well, shit.”
“Yeah. Can’t fit that in a backpack.” He plugged in the headphones that hung from his neck and they lit up. “Who’s winning?”
“I won”, D.Va said and turned to Junkrat. “So you still owe me.”
“Not really? I don’t owe you. Just tryna get on your good side, sheila.”
“You keep calling me that! What does it mean?”
“Uh… Sheila? What you are?”
“Is that an insult? Are you making fun of me?”
“No! It’s just a word! You can’t not have heard it before.”
“Well I haven’t! Is it one of your weird Australian words?”
Junkrat looked at Lúcio in a desperate plea for help. The fucker was just looking on and trying not to laugh. Junkrat bit his lip. Lúcio’s eyes dropped to it, then flitted to D.Va.
“It means girl”, he said. “Woman, female, whatever. It’s one of his weird Australian words.”
D.Va blinked. “Oh.”
“Wait, that’s what you meant by not knowing?” Junkrat said. “I thought you just didn’t- aw forget it. Are we cool now?”
“No. You still haven’t earned my friendship.”
“Are we gonna braid our hair and paint our nails after I do?”
“We might.”
Lúcio slid his headphones over his ears. He fiddled with the console until he settled for something to listen to.
Junkrat suddenly had the very intense urge to rip out the plating off of all the fingers of his right hand. He didn’t, though, because thankfully Roadhog walked in at that exact moment.
“Roadie mate, come check out this bullshittery.” Junkrat brandished the tiny controller in his hand. “Can’t even work my right hand on it.”
“Shame”, is all Roadhog said, and Junkrat realized that last sentence could have easily been an innuendo. Shame indeed.
“Do you wanna play?” D.Va said. Honestly it was hard to tell whether she was teasing or genuine.
Junkrat put the controller in Roadhog’s hand. It was about as big as his thumb.
“I guess that won’t work”, she said. “Gonna have to find some other way to make it up.”
Lúcio bolted, looked up at the ceiling like the heavens themselves had descended to meet him. He then started sliding and pressing and turning buttons and dials like a madman. “You have to listen to this. You have. To listen. To this”, he said without looking up. “C’mere.”
Junkrat and D.Va exchanged a look before she took a seat near the console. Lúcio took one of the headphones off the headband that connected them together and offered it to her. Roadhog coughed.
“Wanna take a stroll around, mate?” Junkrat asked.
It took seven hours, lots of walking, lots of sitting, a quick nap, several weird and not-so-weird conversations, one round of high fives with the Old Room, some subtle handholding and taking at least one peek at every single room of the southeast area of the building to get the two of them separated again. In fact, they only parted when Roadhog dropped Junkrat in front of room 16 and mask-kissed him goodnight.
“Aw, mate, come on. It’s not that late.”
“It is 1:46.”
Junkrat looked at the end of the corridor. The digital clock there sided with Roadhog, so Junkrat stuck out his tongue at it.
He looked back up. “You know I can’t sleep like these civvies do.”
“At least pretend to.”
So Junkrat went into the Young Room. He didn’t try to sneak in – it’d be wasted effort, really – so it came to no surprise that he woke the others up.
Quite hilariously, Tracer and Lúcio lit up their respective extra body parts at the same time. Lúcio’s prosthetics were all in a pile next to his bed. Tracer had her stabilizer on.
“Dude, where were you? You missed dinner”, Lúcio whispered.
Junkrat dropped face-first on his pillow. “We raided the fridge.”
“You and Roadhog?”
“Mmm.”
“You really missed out, though. Ana made something delicious I can’t even pronounce.”
“Make out with me so I can have a taste.”
“What.”
“What.”
D.Va leaned over her bunk so she could see Junkrat. Well, his back. Or, actually, the vague shape of his back – the light wasn’t quite enough. “Some people brush their teeth like they should.”
Junkrat had about run out of air, what with his facefull of pillow, so he rolled to his side. “Then I guess I’ll never know.”
Tracer’s head peaked over the edge of her bunk. “Are you okay, Jamison?”
Junkrat waved his hand around itself. “Could be better, could be worse. Some things are just the way they are, I’ll live with it.”
“… Do you want to talk about it?”
“Don’t lose your sleep over me, sheila, seriously. I’ll be fine.”
“Sure?”
“Sure.”
Tracer looked at him for a moment longer, with her stabilizer reflecting off her huge eyes, before she went back over and out of Junkrat’s sight.
The blue light disappeared. Lúcio’s legs weren’t enough to light up more than a couple feet around them.
Junkrat, for a quick, silly moment, thought to take off his prosthetics like the good pal over there. The moment passed quickly, and he dropped his flesh hand over the side of the bed to make sure his bag was still within arm’s reach.
Lúcio turned off his lights. “Are you asleep?”
“No.”
“… Is your name really Jamison?”
Junkrat wanted to laugh, he really did. He managed to contain it to a violent shake instead. “Do you know literally anything about me?”
“… I know you’re twenty-five. And you like bombs. And you have manners, though people don’t think you do. You –uh- you’re from the Outback. You hate omnics. Your actual name is probably Jamison.”
“It is, yeah. My last is Fawkes. I ‘ppreciate how you totally skipped over the violent criminal part. That’s probably the only thing most people know.”
“Oh. I didn’t think about it.”
“Wait, isn’t there a mugshot in that commercial? My name should be on it. ‘Hog’s too.”
“It was there for like five seconds, I don’t remember.”
“Some of us”, Tracer said, “are trying to sleep.”
“Wait, Tracer, you knew his name?” Lúcio whispered, still clinging to the off chance that D.Va might be asleep.
“I know everyone’s name. Whenever Winston recruits someone he has to take their name, and he feels the need to give one in return. He doesn’t have a different one though. So I come along and fill in that confidentiality gap.” She sighed. “It’s easier when someone else recruits. Like Mercy. Mercy does a good job at it.”
“It just occurred to me that you’re the only one here that’s actually Overwatch”, D.Va said.
Tracer was quiet for a moment. “I guess I am. You’re all welcome, you know. You’d be appreciated.”
This time Junkrat couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’d love to join”, Lúcio said, “but my home comes first. You guys travel a lot. I don’t think I’d be willing to leave my people and my fans so often, for so long.”
“You don’t have to. You could be stationed at Rio. We can work something out”, Tracer said. Her last sentence faded into a yawn. “Tomorrow. At a normal time.”
“Oh. Sorry. Tomorrow, then.”
“Mmm.”
“Goodnight”, D.Va said.
“G’night”, Junkrat said.
It later occurred to him that he only mouthed the word, so nobody heard it.
He fell asleep an hour later, woke up after a quick nap, repositioned, took another nap after a couple of hours, and so on and so forth until something buzzed over his head and Tracer jumped awake.
“Good morning, everyone! Now get up, come on, up up up! We actually have things to do today!”
D.Va grumbled and hid under her pillow. Lúcio didn’t stir a single muscle.
“What things?” Junkrat said, sitting up.
“Winston gave me a list! It’s silly things, mostly, but they have to be done. This place’s kinda old, and hasn’t been used for at least four years, if not more.”
Junkrat ran his flesh hand down his face.
“Now get up! C’mon, loves, we’re not getting any younger here. Or, well – ” she looked down at her stabilizer. “Nope, we good, still growing like normal people. Now, up!” she took to shaking the other bunk.
D.Va threw her pillow. It narrowly missed Tracer’s head, though now D.Va was exposed to the light.
“It’s too early”, she whined. “Five more minutes.”
“No indulging! Up you go, love, get to it! Do you want to miss the whole day and regret it later when time’s not enough?”
“I might”, D.Va said, trying to cover her head under the sheets that Tracer was pulling off. “Right now I regret a lot of things.”
“No time for that!” Tracer managed to pull off the covers entirely. They pooled in her arms. “Wake up, love!”
D.Va muttered something in Korean that was probably not very kind and sat up. Her hair was a royal mess, honesty. Then again, Tracer’s was quite literally defying gravity right now, so who was she to judge.
“Alright!” she said, throwing D.Va’s sheets at her with a giggle. “Lúcio, love, time to wake up.”
“I’ll be right there”, he said without giving any further sign that he was alive.
“You better be! I’m off to the showers, if I come back and you two are still in bed I will drag you there myself, got that?”
“I shower at night”, D.Va grumbled. “Who the fuck has the energy in the morning?”
“Same”, said Lúcio.
Tracer gave a two-fingered salute and left with a small bag under one armpit.
Junkrat was left staring at Lúcio’s chest, looking for movement. There was a silly green thing on his shirt. It may have been supposed to be a frog. It didn’t look like one. Junkrat wasn’t sure if Lúcio was breathing or if he was simply imagining the rise and fall of the green thing on his shirt.
His line of sight was interrupted by D.Va’s butt. Junkrat took a step back to let her climb down the stair.
She pulled on a pair of Uggs that bunched up the legs of her sweatpants. She started digging through her bag, and Junkrat looked back at Lúcio. The not-frog didn’t seem to move, still. Lúcio opened his eyes.
Junkrat didn’t jump out of his skin, exactly, not really. He just gave a really violent tremor, as was common for someone with his amount of radiation poisoning. Sure.
Lúcio sat up slowly, stretched in every direction like a cat. He then slumped down and grabbed his legs. He placed them over his stumps, clicked some things Junkrat didn’t quite catch.
“You need help with that?” D.Va said.
Lúcio looked up, but didn’t stop putting on his legs. “Naw, I’m good. Thanks, though.”
“How long does it take?”
Lúcio tested his left knee. “None, I’m done. Let’s go.”
They walked together to one of the bathrooms that had showers. To the right and left of the door were lines of sinks with one long mirror over them. The side walls were lined with stalls and showers respectively, each equipped with a helpful ‘free’ or ‘occupied’ sign on its door, which appeared to switch depending on whether the lock was locked or not.
Pharah was brushing her teeth at one of the sinks to the far left. The three had just managed to greet her when Tracer walked out of one of the showers, stabilizer over fresh clothes.
“Oh there you are! Thank god you got up on your own, I’m not sure I could have dragged both of you here at the same time”, she said, toweling her hair.
“What do you mean, both? There’s three of us”, D.Va said.
“I can wake up fine, thank you very much”, Junkrat said, and walked into one of the stalls.
When he got back out Tracer and Pharah were gone, though now McCree was in there somewhere. It was easy to tell because his hat was hanging near the door.
Lúcio was brushing his teeth, D.Va was looking for her toothbrush through a small purse-bag-thing.
Junkrat wasn’t sure what to do.
Suspiciously on time, Roadhog walked in. Junkrat pretended he didn’t see his roommates leaning away from him.
“’Hog my man! G’day! How’re you doing?” Junkrat said, walking to him.
“Good”, Roadhog gruffed. “You?”
“Good, mate, good. I gotta tell you though, those beds are not made for actual people. My foot was hanging off, I had to curl up like hell.” Lie. Junkrat always curled up in his sleep. Had to learn to take up as little space as possible. Roadhog knew this, gave a little gruff. Junkrat hurried to the point: “You slept well, mate?”
“On the floor.”
“Good floor?”
“I hogged all the blankets for bedding.”
Junkrat ‘ayy’d at the pun. Roadhog responded with a head shake.
To their surprise, both Lúcio and D.Va ‘ayy’d as well, throwing finger guns at the pair.
“I see what you did there”, D.Va said, because Lúcio couldn’t around his mouthful of toothpaste.
“Okay, so like”, Junkrat begun, pointing at them, “what the hell are you doing there?”
“Finger guns?”
“No, I mean”, Junkrat pointed at Lúcio as he spat in the sink. “That. That thing right there.”
“Brushing his teeth?” D.Va said.
“Yes. Why do you do that.”
Roadhog facepalmed. “Hygiene.”
“Waste a water is what it is!” Junkrat hissed. “People murder for this much clean water back home, Roadie, tell me you don’t see it!”
“Your refusal to use this water won’t bring it to the thirsty of the Outback”, Roadhog said. He pointed at a vending machine directly to the right of the door. “That thing gives supplies for free. Get some, get cleaned up.” He pushed Junkrat towards it. “It even has colors.”
Junkrat watched him go down the corridor of stalls and showers before inspecting the vending machine. It had several buttons of various toiletries and on one side were five colored buttons, as promised. The three primary colors, black and white.
Junkrat pushed the toothbrush button and the red button. Indeed, a red toothbrush fell into the socket where the machine’s products fell. Junkrat shouldn’t be so alienated by a smooth machine operating correctly.
He walked back to his roommates. D.Va had found her own toothbrush, and was brandishing it in triumph. She had a tube of toothpaste in her other hand.
“So how do you do this?” Junkrat asked.
D.Va stared for a moment. “Have you never brushed your teeth?”
Junkrat shrugged. “Not like this. We had other things.”
D.Va shook her head. “Here, do as I do”, she said, putting some toothpaste on her toothbrush. She offered the tube to Junkrat.
He tried to hold his new toothbrush with his right hand, but it kept slipping through. “Just put on some for me, yeah?” he said. He held out his toothbrush, where D.Va put some toothpaste.
Junkrat copied her through brushing and spitting, though when it came to washing out his mouth he couldn’t cup both hands under the tap to get water, like D.Va did. Instead he put his mouth under the water and washed it out like that. It took more time, but hey, it got the job done.
D.Va was putting on makeup. For some reason she started with the triangles on her cheeks, even though they looked to be the final details.
Lúcio was shaving.
Junkrat ran his flesh hand down his face. He figured he was good; he didn’t shave all that often anyway. Radiation had weird effects. He just waited for the two of them to be done with their cosmetic routines and leave. Then he waited for Roadhog to come out.
McCree did, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips and sporting several fresh injuries. Junkrat winced in solidarity.
“Ouch, mate, shouldn’t you have that looked at?” he said, eyeing a particularly nasty gash on McCree’s shoulder.
“Huh? Oh nah, it’s fine. It’ll heal on its own – it’s not as bad as it looks.” McCree shrugged. “I have to get checked soon anyway, ain’t gonna bother anyone in the meantime.”
Junkrat frowned and waited.
But, knowing Roadhog, he’d just stay in there and enjoy the running water for a solid hour, and Junkrat’s not having any of that, so he left upon consideration.
He wandered around for a bit before he realized he had no fucking idea where he was going. Where was he supposed to be, anyway? Was he needed anywhere? Did Tracer ever specify what things they had to do?
Junkrat nibbled on his right thumb. What would a military base do first thing in the morning?
(Food, unless they had some checkup that needed food-free blood.)
Junkrat found the nearest kitchen.
“Good morning to you, sweet sunshine”, Pharah said, with the voice of someone who had been dead inside for too long, and like she had to repeat the same thing over and over again. “I have eggs and bacon for all. Help yourself.”
Ana and Mercy were giggling from the table, eyeing Pharah with all the joy of a person who’s won a big bet. Or dared someone they love to do something very, very silly.
Junkrat ignored it, grabbed a plate and sat down for breakfast. Pharah kept repeating the thing every time someone came into the kitchen.
Junkrat was almost done with his second helping of breakfast when Roadhog made it to the kitchen.
"Good morning to you, sweet sunshine", Pharah groaned.
Roadhog interrupted by putting his hand up. "Don't bother."
"She has to!" Mercy calls.
Roadhog slowly turns to her. "Don't."
Pharah rolled her eyes. "Eggs and bacon, please put me out of my misery."
Roadhog turned and left.
Junkrat snorted. "Don't take it personally, sheila. It's bacon. He won't eat it."