Work Text
He opened his eyes to the roof of the car they’d got working, and a staticy whir blaring through the radio. Junkrat fidgeted with the dial of the radio, but eventually turned the volume down to zero. There wasn’t a chance they’d get radio this far out. Junkrat was driving, Roadhog didn’t mind. Honestly, Junkrat was an alright driver when nothing was on the road to distract him, plus Hog trusted the man as far as he could throw him: with Hog’s powerful arms and Rat’s skinny, javelin-like body, it was pretty fucking far. But Junkrat never drove so far without direction. They were just driving with hunger in their stomachs, and an overwhelming need for shelter. “Where’re we?” Roadhog grumbled without stirring from his laying position in the back seat. “Oh, you’re up. Well, while you were snoozin’ I drove, and drove, and drove, and then I saw this narrow pass between two hills, a real narrow pass , so I shrugged and figured it’s as good as any empty path to follow. And it wound n’ wound n’ wound n’ wound until I wasn’t too sure where the fuck we were,” There was a slight chuckle to his tone, “And then there was a straight-away, and then I saw that’n the distance.” “What?” “That,” a metal hand outstretched and pointed at the horizon, “It ain’t rotted in, or exploded or nothing! It’s a miracle Roadie, we can sit in for a few and take a fucking break.” It was too good to be true. Roadhog thought maybe the kid was delusional. Maybe he finally lost it. Days in the desert sun, with no food and water, forcing himself to laugh and sing and be on the more annoying side finally got to the poor kid. There was no such thing as a house in the badlands that wasn’t destroyed or guarded away by tons of gangs. So Roadhog sat up, creaking the backseat with his heavy, wide body. He leaned between the front and passenger seat, forcing himself to focus on the white farmhouse in the distance.He blinked a few times, and then from his throat creaked, “Fuck.” “That’s too heavy for you to lift,” a woman with dark hair crossed her arms and looked at the massive man squatting in front of their large bookshelf, “Mako, just let the movers take care of it.” The fat man laughed a slightly wheezy laugh and said, “I got it, I got it.” “You’re gonna hurt yourself one of these days,” she said as she was proven wrong. Mako effortlessly hoisted the bookshelf into the back of the truck, “You’ll throw out your back, I swear.” “I think my back is the least of my problems,” Mako smiled with his full lips. He leaned in to kiss the dark haired woman and she rested her hand against the side of his face. “You need to shave.” Mako gave her a warm look, and she smiled into his mouth, giving him a sweet, soft kiss. “Get used to it,” Mako murmured against her lips, “No boss to tell me to shave.” “I’m the boss,” she raised her eyebrows. She rubbed her hand firmly back and forth against his face, “Just don’t forget you have a wife. One who prefers you clean shaven.” “Yes ma’am,” Mako happily mumbled. His hands caressed down from her shoulders down her pear shaped body to her stomach. Everything about her body was delicate in his large hands, but especially going down to her soft, protruding tummy. She was due in a month. An entire life, an entire world, an entire experience; a baby girl was coming, and Mako, though quite a bit stoic, was extremely excited to be her father. “Oh,” the woman took ahold oh Mako’s hand and moved it down, “She kicked.” “Did she?” Mako asked. “She’s been beatin’ the shit out of me these past few days.” “She’ll be a fighter,” Mako grazed the area with his thumb. He looked at the loaded moving van and car, and back at the one bedroom home, which was empty, and a little drab looking, “You still sure ‘bout all this?” “Anywhere where you’re not breathing in any toxins is anywhere I’m happy to be. I’m glad you left that lab, who knows what those gasses’ll do to ya.” Mako grunted in agreement, “I’m just makin’ sure you’re not feelin’ like you made a mistake.” “Mako,” she held his huge hand with both of hers, “I’m excited.” And she was still excited. She was excited in the passenger seat of their car. Despite how she felt, on the long ride from the city to the countryside she fell asleep. Mako drove through the hills and past the winding roads until a long stretch of road had a white farmhouse in the distance. He looked at his wife. She looked cozy, despite her gripe of an achy back and swollen feet. The sun beat down on the salmon of her dress. The pink reflected against her sun-kissed skin, and made her look like a colorful queen: his queen. Her hands were rested on her protruding belly, and her head rested against the glasses. “Bon,” Mako nudged his wife, “Bonnie wake up.” “Whu?” Bonnie wiped the drool from her mouth, “When did I pass out?” “Dunno,” Mako shrugged, but he pointed out and said, “But look at it.” She sat up all the way, and looked out at the house. It was a white farm house, with two stories, and lots of space around it. "Fuck,” she whispered, “Wow Mako.” “Yeah,” he chuckled. “Wow, wow,” she repeated, “This is unreal!” “Lots of space.” “No kidding,” she raised her eyebrows, “Enough space to have a farm, like you said!” “What animal d’you think we’ll raise first?” Mako asked with a smile.“I don’t know,” Bonnie shrugged, “How ‘bout pigs?” “Hog,” Junkrat asked, stretching the o-sound out until Roadhog snapped out of his trance, “Y’think it’s a trap?” Roadhog fastened the buckles at the back of his mask, and grunted a yes came from behind it. Junkrat insisted that when it was just the two of them, Roadhog didn’t need to wear the mask. Roadhog refused to listen. “Really?” The rat turned his head just a little, “I say whoever’s there, we can take ‘em. What if they’ve got food? Better than eatin’ roadkill.” Roadhog grunted, not wanting to say I told you so about eating the rancid meat. He still didn't want to go in the farmhouse. “Nothin’ wrong with givin’ it the ol’ college try!” Roadhog had nothing to say. He knew that there was no keeping Jamison from these dreams: a roof over his head, a bed to sleep in, water, and food. He slowly pulled up to the porch stairs, and killed the coughing engine of the car. “Gimme my gun,” Junkrat demanded of Roadhog, but instead, Roadhog exited the car and cautiously waddled up the steps. “Guess y’are my bodyguard,” Junkrat shrugged, and fished in the back for his frag launcher. He pulled it out, and watched as Hog wrapped his big, meaty hand about the doorknob, pushing it open. He took a few steps through the door, the hardwood floor creaking its same creaks, except maybe a little less forgiving than before, and into the living room. The blue couch was stained with things old and dried, and there were a few places where the cushion was torn out and stuffing bled out like guts. One of the couch pillows was sticking out of the fireplace, not lit, but perhaps thought to be used as tinder, if needed. The floor rug that sat between the couch and television was gone, and the television was snapped in half, maybe for fun. Hog looked around the living room for signs of squatters still residing inside, but none were present, and he moved on to the kitchen. Junkrat walked into the house, taking sneaky steps that correlated between steel-toed boot and spring loaded peg leg, just as Hog opened the cabinet. Inside was a few cans of food, and Junkrat screamed with joy. Startled, Roadhog turned around jerkily, and only upon seeing the giddy face of his boss did he realized that he wasn’t in trouble. “Food!” Junkrat ran over, “Can y’fucking believe it Roadie! Food!” Hog held his hand in front of Junkrat’s face, and grumbled from behind the mask, “Something’s fishy.” “Yeah, maybe tuna !” Junkrat held out a can of tuna fish, “Fuck, don’t be such a sourpuss, look at this shit!” Jamison climbed atop the counter, a little uneasy at first, and opened the higher cabinet. There were even more cans of food, “This fucker had a stash!” “Rat,” Roadhog tried to get his attention. “There’s bottled water, Hoggie!” “Junkrat.” “Holy shit, this fucker’s got a Tim Tam!” Junkrat held the candy bar triumphantly, and kissed it’s wrapper, right over the word Tam . “ Jamison !” Roadhog jerked him down from the counter and he fell on his bony ass. “What the fuck , hog?” he bounced up, “Sorry m’excited that we get to live another day!” Roadhog grabbed him by one of his chest straps and said, “What kind of idiot leaves his stash like this? Either this guy’s still in the house, or he’s coming back. We can’t be celebrating until there’s nothing to worry about, okay?” Jamison shoved his mask’s snout out of his face, “Fine! Fine! Jesus fuck, Hog, y’smell like paint thinner. And not in a good way either.” “Shut up,” Hog growled, “And stay down here. Stay alert.” “Right-o!” “And check the other rooms.” “Other rooms?” “They’re down the hall,” Hog pointed, and corrected himself, “probably.” Hog trudged up the stairs, feeling each step give just a tad under his weight. The creaks were expected. The house was sturdy, but it was old. There were only three rooms upstairs: two bedrooms and a bathroom. He started with the bedroom closest to the stairs. There were three handprints pressed on the door in paint: a large one in blue, one smaller in green, and an even smaller one in pink. Up the frame of the door were nicks with ages in them, and the same initials P.R. Over and over his eyes locked with P.R. all the way up the doorframe, until his eyes met with a shorter one, at about five and a half feet, Mum, and high above that, nearly reaching the top of the doorframe, Daddy. His hand hovered the door, and it finally clasped the knob. He pushed inside the room. The walls were a creamy yellow, and the bed was devoid of a mattress. The window was cracked, but not broken open, and against the closet door, the mattress was propped. Mako held his gun tight, and slowly tilted the mattress away from the door. Once it was out of the way, he pulled the closet door open, to find nothing inside, but a hung up jacket and another large bottle of water. He looked around the room, just to feast his eyes. A sticker decal of a butterfly was still stuck up on the wall, and a few posters were still tacked, despite one of them being ripped almost in half. He smoothed that one up, and saw a white turnip with a smiling face and curling green tentacles sprouting from the bottom. The text was at the bottom in a bubbly white that read: Pachimari loves you! “Pachi…” Roadhog murmured, then startled back, letting the poster fall. Squeak. “Is that it’s voice?” Mako asked. Squeak squeak. “What’s the squeaker for?” Mako reiterated. Mako’s six year old daughter climbed over him, clinging to his shirt and pressing the pachimari to his face rather harshly. When she withdrew it, it made a squeak. She laughed and said, “It’s kisses!” “It’s kisses?” Mako replied with a full lipped smile. “Pachimari loves you!” she replied in a sing-song manner, probably replicating some sort of theme. Mako went to grab the pachimari from her and she withdrew it in her arms. “Hey, I just wanna tell him something,” Mako said softly. She scooted off of her father’s big stomach and plopped onto the couch. She looked at the television. The news played some sort of panic about omnics and humans that she was too young to understand, but still frowned to see such peril. Mako turned the TV off with a scowl, and asked nicely, “Can I see the pitchi-potchi?” “Patchimari!” she corrected. “Sorry, sorry,” Mako snorted, “Can I see the patchimari, I wanna tell him something.” She gingerly placed the soft stuffed toy in his lap, and he picked it up with his big paw. It’s face was simple, just two black eyes and a happy, animal shaped mouth. He brought the side of it’s upside-down turnip head near his mouth, and whispered something unintelligible into it. His daughter clamored up his shoulder to hear the secret and he quickly acted as if he weren’t whispering at all. She laughed and shouted, “What’d you say!” “Oh nothing,” Mako held the toy firmly in his hands, “Only to tell him to give you kisses!” He tickled her and she plopped over onto the couch. He squeaked the pachimari about her face with one hand, and continued the tickled with the other.“Pachimari loves you!” Mako laughed with his child’s screeching laughter, “Pachimari loves you Piper!” Roadhog sighed. It wasn’t her room anymore. He exited the empty room, and went on to the other room. Nothing felt more gut wrenching than to see that the room’s order was the best kept out of all of the rooms in the house. The same comforter with the wine red comforter case zipped over it was crumpled on the matress. The bedframe had a few scratches in it, and one of the posts that held up the canopy was cracked all the way through, but it was mostly intact. The chest of drawers was missing two drawers, but it was unblemished, and still usable. Underneath that was a persian rug with tassels at either end that sat pleasantly on the wood floor. There were no longer curtains on the windows, potted plants on the windowsill, books on the shelves, or pictures on the walls, but the room still had the same feeling inside of it. He took a step toward the mirror that sat in the corner of the room, and heard a crunch beneath his weight. He took a step back and looked down at the aftermath of his step: face down, broken picture frame. He picked it up with his left hand, adorned with ringed reminders, and flipped it over. In it, was a picture of Mako and Bonnibel Rutledge, shortly after they were wed. Her dress was white and conformed to the shape of her body, then puffed out at the waist. He wore a dark tuxedo and held her hand in his giant one. His hair jet black, as it used to be before he got old, and was long enough to tuck behind his ear, but not quite long enough to tie it up as he did. Her hair was up in a bun, with beautiful brown curls falling out. He took the picture from the frame, and ripped it right in half. He gingerly set the picture of Bonnie down on the bedside table and walked, with the picture of him in his hand, to the window. He pushed the window open, and let the picture of him fly away with the breeze. The last room left was the upstairs bathroom. He opened the door with the thought that nothing would be inside, and was immediately greeted with a contradiction. “All clear,” Junkrat called from downstairs. Roadhog thanked whatever god there was that he was wearing his mask, because on the toilet, pants and underwear around his ankles, was an elderly man, withered away, stiff, and slumped over, dead. He had a shotgun laid across his lap. Hog came back down the stairs and gazed upon Rat, chewing, holding the other hand of the blessed Tim Tam bar. Roadhog looked at him with his expressionless mask, and held out his hand. “I was savin’ the other half for ya!” Junkrat dropped the half into his partner’s hand, “I swear!” Hog lifted his mask to just uncover his mouth, and took a bite of the half-eaten bar. In his chewing he said, “Found the squatter.” “What?” Junkrat gasped at the fact that someone was actually in the house. It was so silent. “He’s hiding in the bathroom upstairs,” Roadhog finished the candy bar, and put his mask back on, “Wanna check it out?” Junkrat held his frag launcher up and smiled a chaotic smile, “Fuck yeah!” He hopped upstairs and waited by the bathroom door for Roadhog to catch up. “Open it,” Roadhog urged, and awaited a reaction. Junkrat sprung open the door and startled back when his eyes locked with the corpse sitting on the toilet. Roadhog let out wheezy, uproarious laughter. Junkrat cried, “You dickhead!” Hog held his belly as his laughter came from deep within it. “Oh stuff it,” Rat crossed his arms, “I seriously thought there was some drongo hiding behind the shower curtain with his boot toe stickin’ out! I was really ready for a laugh!” “Y’Gave me one,” Hog couched in laughter. “Yeah, choke on it,” Rat said coldly, but pat his bodyguard’s back, “What do we do with th’bastard? Looks like he’s been dead for a good while; Weevils have already gotten to ‘im.” “Throw him out back probably,” Roadhog said, “And you should-” “Wait,” Rat interrupted, “If this guys takin’ a shit… Then,” he reached for the button atop the toilet. He pressed it down. The sound of a flush rang in couple’s ears, and they both looked at each other, speechless. Roadhog’s fat hand reached for the valve on the sink, turned it, and water came out of the spigot. The two looked at each other in silence, and screams belted out of both of their mouths. “ Water !”The two ended up taking the poor, old man out back, burying him in a shallow grave, showering, and settling in for dinner.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“I already checked, the gas is bunk,” Junkrat said, “Won’t start.” He leaned against the kitchen doorway as Roadhog fiddled with the stove. Roadhog looked up at the man, who was dressed back in the same dirty shorts as before his shower. It had been months, though, since he’d seen the man’s natural skin, unblemished by soot, dirt, and slime. He looked nice when he was clean and his hair wasn’t caked with a layer of shit. Without the crazed look in his eye, one might mistake him for normal. “Gotta light?” Roadhog asked from behind the mask. “What? Can’t hear ya,” Junkrat looked up at the ceiling, “I told you, ya don’t have to wear the mask when it’s just me around.” Roadhog rested the gas mask above his mouth and repeated, “Gotta light?” “Fuck off mate,” Rat crossed his arms, suddenly moody, as if his bodyguard hiding his face was personal. “Just give me a match Jamison,” Roadhog said, placing his pig mask atop his head. It always stuck a cord in Junkrat when his partner called him Jamison. His birth given name almost felt like a pet name, with it’s sense of delicate sensitivity wrapped around it. Junkrat dug in his side pouch, and pulled out a book. He handed it to Roadhog, who left the dial on the stove turned slightly, lit a match, and lowered the fire to the burner, huffing slightly out of his mouth. The way he did this made Rat go red in the face. It had a simplicity to it, like he’d done it before, and in his deep, black eyes, half-lidded and skirted by short, black eyelashes, there was familiarity. The burner lit, and Hog straightened up. He said, “It’s not the gas, it’s the igniter.” “Why didn’t I thinka that?” Junkrat said, and bumped his own hand to his forehead. “Go out and lay some traps, we don’t know if anyone’s lookin’ to take this place late in the light. The man’s shittin’ with a shotgun, so-” “Or he’s just a paranoid old man.” “He might have a reason to be paranoid,” Roadhog sorted through the cans. Refried beans, cream of mushroom soup, peaches, SPAM, green beans, corn, vegetable soup, evaporated milk, mandarin oranges, and canned tuna were amongst the many stockpiled cans the dead toilet man had. Roadhog decided to mix a few cans of cream of mushroom with a can of tuna over the stove, while Junkrat laid out traps. He waltzed around the kitchen, doing a dance so familiar that he immediately felt a weight on his shoulders. He felt his baby’s hands clasped tight together in front of his throat, hanging down like a pendulum, in some sort of deadly piggy back ride. He saw his wife come up, kiss his cheek, help Piper down, and settle against the kitchen wall. He heard the laughter of his young daughter, and the soothing voice of Bonnibel thank him for cooking dinner. All of this, and suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. He killed the gas on the stove, and ran outside. Junkrat was prying one of his spray-painted bear traps open, and with the burst of the door, he let go of the trap and stood, “Hog?” “Gas,” Roadhog lowered his mask, “Where’s my gas?” “Are you hurt?” Rat ran to his body guard with a worried look in his eyes, “What’s wrong?” Hog shoved him out of the way and opened the back seat of the car. Junkrat watched with worried eyes as Roadhog fastened his mask on tight, locked the yellow cannister to one of his breathing valves, and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to remember any of it. He didn’t want to be in the fucking house. He wanted to be Roadhog, merciless killer, feared by man, not Mako Rutledge, the outback farmer, with a family he loved. He put the cannister down, and adjusted the mask tighter on his face. “Dinner’s ready,” he grumbled. Junkrat looked at him with concern in his eyes, “What’s wrong with you?” Hog marched into the house. Rat looked around, unsure if he should eat, or finish setting the bear traps. It sun was just about setting on the horizon. “Well,” Rat called after him, “I’m gonna finish out ‘ere then!” Dinner was quiet. Roadhog kept his mask on; the bottom of it just perched over his upper lip, as he sat quiet. Rat inhaled his food, but every once in awhile, from across the rustic, wood table, he’d look at hi bodyguard with sad eyes. Hog got quiet, annoyed, fed up with Junkrat’s shit every once in awhile, but never did he see him so disheartened. He was curious to know why, but he knew pushing him would get his head crushed in Hog’s unringed, right hand. “Are y’done?” Junkrat finally asked, once the table was quiet and motionless. Roadhog grunted in a yes, and brought his mask down. Junkrat rounded the table, and put his two hands, one flesh and one metal, on Roadhog’s shoulders, attempting to give him a massage. “You alright mate?” Junkrat said, kneading the tense skin and muscle under his hands, giving Roadhog quite possibly the world’s worst shoulder rub. Hog didn’t reply, he just let his skin get pinched in the joins of Rat’s metal fingers. “Oi, I’m talkin’ to you,” Junkrat said, leaning over and getting close to one of the mask lenses. He could almost make out Hog’s eye from behind the tinted lense, “Roadhog?” Roadhog took a deep breath from behind his mask, took it off, then let the breath out, “M’tired.” “You kiddin?” Rat looked around the darkening house. Roadhog was tired. There was something about his past being dug up that completely exhausted him. “I’m tired, ” he repeated, plopping his mask in Junkrat’s hands. His head hung low and a flyaway form his updone hair strung into his face. Junkrat, suddenly uncomfortable by his bodyguard looking so vulnerable, put the mask out on the table and said, “Uh, well, uh, fuck, howbout, uh- Oh! Howbout we find some candles, an’ really light this place up! I saw some in the cupboard, so there’s probably some around the house!” A smile crept on Roadhog lips, and he said, “If you can find two batteries, you know what we can do.” Junkrat’s eyes lit up, more than the usually did with their orange hue at least, and he laughed giddily, “I call upstairs- I bet I can find something before you, you big boar!” “Deal,” Roadhog grunted, and stood from his seat. Junkrat sprung upstairs, his shrill laughter escaping him every step of the way. There was something beautiful about the kid laughing like he did, without it being accompanied by making out of a hairy situation alive, or the death of an enemy. As the rat often said: “It’s the little things that make happy moments, not the grand events.” Hog just had to focus on the little things: batteries, candles that lit up the dark bedroom, classic hits of a time forgotten coming out of shared headphones as Junkrat hummed out wrong lyrics. Hog laughed a breathy laugh, and helped him through, “Did you say paste?” “Yea? That’s the words?” Junkrat said. Hog sat up. The two were laying on the mattress that belonged to Bonnibel and Mako Rutledge, long forgotten. The bed creaked under Hog’s weight, familiarly, as if it were welcoming him home. “No, no, it’s ‘but you turn right over to the T.V. page’ , not ‘T.V. paste’ ,” Roadhog reached for the music player, and said, “Lemme me rewind.” “But the line before ends with ‘war and of waste’, paste rhymes with waste. Page and waste don’t rhyme,” Rat said pointedly, sitting up across from Roadhog, putting his legs out in front of him. His prosthetic was leaned up against the bed, but was off, as to not jab Roadhog or put a hole in the mattress. Roadhog skimmed backwards a few seconds on the song, paused and took out his earphone. He handed it to the skinny man and said, “Listen to the words, you’ll really hear it.” Rat looked nervously around the room. Hog was strict about listening to music in both ears. The less you can hear, the more likely you were to be snuck up on. The room was dark, which took away another sense that Rat had, so to be blinded of two was a little scary. “It’s fine, I’ve got my ears,” Hog comforted, “Really, close your eyes. I got you.” Junkrat closed his eyes. With one hand, Roadhog pressed his palm up against Rat’s cheek, with the other, he started the music. Slowly, his other palm came and met Junkrat’s cheek, and in Hog’s palms, was the face of a skittish, giddly, scary, junker, who sat and listened to music they had happened to find together. Junkrat did listen to the words; Hog was right, it was ‘page’, but he didn’t open his eyes immediately. There was comfort in the intimacy of his cheeks being cupped by the only person in the world who seemed to trust and support him. His eyes blinked opened to Roadhog’s closed eyes, mouthing the words, “They come to build a wall between us. We know they won’t win.” Rat looked curiously at the smile that tinged on the corners of Hog’s plump lips, and impulsively, he sprung forward, wrapping his arms around the back of Roadhog’s neck, and kissing him. “Rat, what’re you-” “For the first time in for-fucking-ever, we don’t have to watch out backs,” Rat said running his gloved hand over Hog’s bare chest, grazed his neck, up the side of his face and into his hair. It was oddly sensual, despite the crazed grin that crept up Junkrat’s cheeks. He continued, “We used to have fun! Y’know, hotels, actin’ like we ain’t on the run, that kind of shit, but now we’re back here, and we’ve had to watch out asses as if there’s a bright red target on ‘em,” Rat licked his lips, and his eyes jumped from Hog’s stare to his frown, “M’already hard as a rock, Hog. I can run to the car faster’n you can call after me. Gimme the green and I’m-” Hog stood, and Rat looked up at him disheveled and desperate. His eyes were pleading, “You’ve fucked me before, in worse situations! Member the time Cloncurry! What’s wrong-” “M’going to the car, Jamison,” Hog said with a husky voice, “So you don’t have to put your leg on.” “Ah fuck, you scared me,” Rat plopped backwards, “You’re a dickhead!” Hog walked down the stairs and outside. He dodged Rat’s traps, and grabbed a satchel from the back seat. He was surprised the satchel wasn’t taken inside the house; inside was a curved needle and thread for stitches, ripped cloth for bandages, duct tape, three safety pins, and a bottle of lube. Upon arriving back at the bedroom, Hog’s eyes feasted upon Rat, in a complete state of undress, looking at Roadhog with challenge in his eyes. It wasn’t long before Rat’s leg was slung over Hog’s shoulder, all of his weight on his shoulders and neck, and Hog’s mouth between his thighs. Hog licked up the crease of Junkrat’s ass, over his balls, and up the underside of his cock. Junkrat writhed against the mattress, feeling intense waves of pleasure for the first time in, what felt like, millions of years. Every moment that Roadhog, his bodyguard, his partner, his lover, wasn’t pleasuring him, time seemed to crawl. “Fuck, fuck,” Rat’s eyes squeezed tight, and he wriggled, “Just, fuck, put something in me.” His words were breathless, eager, and a little irritated. Roadhog grinned against the side of Junkrat’s cock, and let his thin body slump against his large belly. He opened up the bottle of lube and pressed his thumb against Junkrat’s slick entrance, as if teasing to attempt with only spit. Junkrat’s breath hitched and he stared into Roadhog’s eyes, curious as to what direction he was going. He scooted back, letting Rat plop down on the mattress, and he grunted, “Hips.” A finger pushed inside Junkrat, wriggling slightly, and Hog watched as Rat’s movement stilled in a blank slate of witty or stupid comments to make. He pulled his finger out slightly, and pushed two back in. Rat bit his lip in an attempt to not make noise, and in the celebration of succeeding, let out a small heh. Roadhog’s hand were big. It didn’t take much to get Junkrat prepared for his cock, and even if Hog was a little impatient, the boy liked it. He liked to feel wanted, lusted after, for Hog to be starving for him. After the bit of prep, Roadhog stroked his cock, slicking it nice for Junkrat, and pressed the head to the crease of his ass. “Don’t make me wait,” Junkrat winced. Hog just grunted in return. “Don’t make me fucking wait,” Junkrat winced, this time, pressing his hands to his face, having his words come out muffled. Roadhog pushed inside the man, and Junkrat grabbed fistfulls of the comforter, making a sound that placed somewhere between a laugh and a moan. Roadhog groaned. He forgot how good it felt; Junkrat taut against a mattress, ass up just for him. He leaned into the first thrust, putting a lot of body in it. Junkrat loved this. His arched his back, pressing his ass higher toward his partner, and Roadhog took that as an invitation to continue. He leaned in more, hovering over Junkrat with his hands holding him up on either side of Junkrat’s thin frame. He grunted, “Faster?” Junkrat opened his mouth to speak, but only pleasure-laden giggles escaped his mouth. He clawed into the mattress. Roadhog picked up speed, his fatter frame laying into Rat’s little body as if it were the single most important thing to do. Rat huffed, “Fuck, Mi- Mar- What the fuck’s your name again?” His voice was groggy and embarrassed. “Mako,” Roadhog replied with a grunt. “Mako!” Junkrat smiled, as if he’d realized that himself, “Mako, God, Mako.” “Shut up,” Hog grunted, thrusting harshly into the junker as if it’d get him to stop. “Mako, Mako,” Junkrat wasn’t fully intending to tease- his mind drew a blank to anything else to say, other than the name of the man fucking him, “Ma- Oh !” Roadhog pulled fully out of Junkrat and flipped him over, forcing his chest and face into the mattress, “I said shut up.” Rat moaned face-down into the mattress, and whatever words that came out, presumably his lover’s name, came out muffled and inaudible. Hog put a hand on Rat’s head to keep him there, only for a moment. With each thrust, the need to continue filled in Hog’s chest, and he slowly cupped over Rat, until his chest pressed to Rat’s back, and he was huffing in Rat’s ear. “God, fuck, damn it,” Rat couldn’t keep his mouth from spewing any of his thoughts, “Yes, yes yes, fuck, God.” Roadhog bit the shell of Junkrat’s ear, his thrusts at this point messy and powerful, and his grunts and huffs became deeper, more animalistic, and louder in Rat’s ear. This filled Rat to the brim with pleasure. He moaned, “Ma- Ma- M- God, I’m gonna,” he couldn’t form words. He swallowed his dry mouth, “I’m gonna come.” “Fucking do it,” Hog grunted, and immediately after, Rat tensed, tightened, and winced as he came onto the mattress. Hog pulled out, and slipped the shaft of his cock against the crease of Junkrat’s ass. A few absent thrusts sent him coming on Junkrat’s back as he groaned loudly. A few minutes after, the couple laid still, Junkrat, covered in his and his bodyguard’s mess, and Roadhog, tired and still out of breath. Hog’s eyes were closed and his head had just hit the mattress. Junkrat shifted, and said, “Mako?” “Yeah Bon?” “Bon?” Rat snorted, “Is that what you’re gonna call me now? Didn’t know you were so sentimental. Next thing, you’re gonna tell me you love me.” Roadhog sat up. Everything about feeling the sweat of sex against his skin and the warm, sweet familiarity of the room he once occupied reminded him of his wife. He fucked someone else in his and his wife’s bed. He fucked this kid in his and his wife’s bed. He fucked up. “Take a fucking shower Rat,” he huffed, “You’re a mess.” “S’nice having showers,” Rat nodded, “Easier cleanup. I’ll be back, I guess.” “I’ll be downstairs,” Hog said, reaching for his music. “What?” Junkrat’s brow furrowed, “Why?” “We need someone to stand watch,” Roadhog reached down for his pants, “Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” Without another word, Roadhog left the room. Junkrat’s body, too spent from getting fucked, and not strapped into his peg leg, was unable to follow Hog sat on the porch, facing the deep blackness of the outback, under thousands of stars, and put one earbud in his ear:
There's a chapel deep in a valley
For travelling strangers in distress
It's nestled among the ghosts of the pines
Under the shadow of a precipice
Mako hadn’t ever heard the song before, but it came from the speakers nonetheless. It was called in by a nostalgic woman, whose father claimed that song predated even him, and should be remembered. The jockey allowed it, and played it He loved to watch the sun set over the horizon from the porch. He didn’t mind if anyone was to join him, but alone it was a moment of peace and quiet, and the fiery sun bled into the blue sky and lit everything into oranges and purples. Mako felt at peace here, as if nothing bad could ever happen. Bonnibel walked outside with anger in her step, holding a lit tablet. Though they lived out of civilization, they had many new technologies: Bonnie, wanting to keep in touch with family, the outside world, and her hopeful writing career, warranted this. “Mako,” she said, with fear in her eyes. Mako didn’t look up from the sunset, he, instead held a finger up and said, “Have you ever heard this song?” “Mako,” she repeated. “It reminds me of you,” he said with a smile, turning to look at his wife. The smile quickly turned to a frown when he saw the stress in her face and the way she was standing. She gestured to the tablet. He look it from her dainty hands, and looked over the message given to them by the Australian government.“They’re displacing us,” she said with disbelief in her voice, “for the omnics.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Rat woke up to nothing. The bed was empty, the room was dark, the air was still. There wasn’t a loud, uproarious snore or a weight in the bed next to him that he so desperately longed for. He loved waking up next to Hog, day in and out, because it made him feel safe, protected, watched after, and honestly, he swore he loved the big man, and waking up next to him was a big reminder of that. But he didn’t forget, when Roadhog wasn’t there. Instead, it put a sense of homesickness, or longing, in his heart. He wasn’t ever able to get up and shower. After being fucked, then left, he fell asleep in his and Roadhog’s mess, waking up the next morning covered in different dried fluids. Taking a few minutes, he rolled over to what would be Hog’s side of the bed, fastened himself into his leg, and walked to the shower.Hog, from the dissected couch downstairs, heard the shower running. The rat was up. Knock-Knock . Mako sat in the dining room, reading a newspaper, trying to get more information about he and his family being forced off land they purchased, just to make a deal with some shitty omnics. This was his home, this was where he started a new life with his wife, this was where his daughter was raised. How could they be a family without the farmhouse? Knock-Knock-Knock-Knock. The knocking was frantic. Mako stood and set the paper down, open on the table. He walked to the front door, opened it, and was greeted by a smooth, silver face. “Oh thank God,” the omnic seemed to sigh, “I took a cab home from a buddy’s house, and he dropped my off over here and- Do you have a phone I can use?” Mako looked at the bot’s flawless plate for a face. Only two small slits for eyes, and a longer slit for the mouth. It wore a t-shirt, jeans, shoes, and carried a messenger bag. It laughed, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to just unload on you. My name is Clyde,” he held out his hand. “Name? You got names?” Mako grunted. “Uh, ha, yeah. So, uh, about that phone?” “You’re an omnic,” Mako said. An omnic on his porch asking to come into his home to use his phone. The creature that was single-handedly fucking up his future, right on his doorstep. It was hard for Mako not to demonize him. “I, uh, I am,” Clyde stuttered, “I walked for a couple of miles, you know, you’re the only farm that doesn’t have an ‘Omnics shot on sight’ sign? That’s why I came to you.” “Didn’t think I needed one,” Mako said. “See, people like you are so kind-” “Thought it was implied,” Mako’s giant hand grabbed the collar of his shirt, “Did you know my family’s being forced out, cause’a things like you? Did you-” “ Mako !” Bonnibel’s voice erupted from the stairs, shrill, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Mako unhanded the omnic, who smoothed his shirt. “It’s a bot, Bon!” “Doesn’t mean you can go ‘round attacking ‘em!” Bonnibel looked at him with a knit brow, “For the love of God Mako, be mad at the human people who struck the deal. God, sweetheart, are you alright?” “I’m fine,” Clyde shook his head, still obviously afraid of the hulk of a man, “I was saying, I took a cab home, and my cab driver drove me all the way out here, and said ‘Good luck!’ and kicked me out of his car. You’re the only house that doesn’t say ‘Kill all omnics’ on the lot. Please ma’am, may I just use your phone to call a friend to come get me?” “Of course, of course,” Bonnibel led him into the house, comfortingly placing a hand on his shoulder, “Can I get you anything? Maybe some tea- Er, uh, can you-?” “I’m fine,” the omnic said with a laugh, “Thank you.” Bonnibel looked at Mako, who glared at her disapprovingly. She came close to him, pat his stomach, and said, “Leave him be, he’s just a kid.” “Soon yer gonna say that about the one’s takin’ out house.” “Imagine if the roles were reversed. Would you want Pipes to be in this situation?” “She wouldn’t be in the first place,” Mako grumbled coldly, “She’s not a fucking bot.” “Hey, easy,” Bon scolded, “Just be nice for once. Once this boy get’s home, it’s over. You don’t have to see him again. You can go back to being a grumpy old man.” She teased, and kissed him. The couple watched as the omnic dialed the phone, hung up, dialed, hung up, over and over. “Fuck, please pick up, come on,” the omnic whispered quietly. “Honey, is everything alright?” “Yeah,” he said, frightened, “Just nobody’s picking up is all.” “Do you, uh,” Bon offered, “want me to drive you home?” Mako looked at her with wide eyes. The omnic turned around, “It’s alright.” “Honestly, I gotta pick up my daughter from school anyways, I have GPS, and I can get you home, just so you feel safe,” Bon approached him, “I know things are a little tense and uncomfortable, so I’d like to help in any way I can.” The omnic set down the phone, and looked at Mako, then Bon. She laughed, and a little snort came from her, “He’s not coming with, if that’s what you’re asking. Mako, go feed the pigs please.” “You sure?” Mako asked under his breath. “I’ll be fine, and he’ll be fine. I won’t be gone longer than an hour, unless you want me to stop by the grocery or something,” she put both of her soft hands on either side of his bristly face. She looked longingly into her husband’s eyes and said, “I love you.” “I love you too,” he kissed her. “Come on, sweetie,” Bon grabbed her keys, “Let’s get you home.” Later, after Mako fed the pigs and showered, he shaved in the foggy mirror of the bathroom. Looking at himself, his shaggy face, his giant body, and thinking about his wife, who loved him despite his downfalls. His beautiful wife with her intelligent mind and beautiful soul. His wife, who left the home with the omnic. A flutter of a thought came through him: She’s fucking the bot. The bot is going to take your home, and ruin your marriage. That thing is going to father your child and ruin your life.And it completely consumed him. Roadhog was quiet through the day. He still cooked for the pair, and played cards with Rat, but he didn’t take his mask off much, and he hardly said a word. Night fell, as it did, and Junkrat laid in bed more vulnerable than the night before. Roadhog stood, ready to go outside and wait to watch the sunrise, but Rat stopped him. “Gonna go introspect again?” Roadhog turned, confused. “I know you’re lying when you say you have to stand watch. I don’t know why, really. I don’t know if it’s got anything to do with me, or you, or something completely different.” Hog shook his head and let a sigh out from behind the pig mask. “Sit with me for at least a little while?” Roadhog looked at the door, open to the hallway, and then back at the rat. He closed the door, and sat at his side of the bed. “Don’t worry,” Junkrat said, a little somber, “I’m not gonna ask y’ta fuck me again.” Roadhog nodded only slightly. “Did I ever tell you about me mum?” This caught Roadhog by surprise. He only asked about Junkrat’s past once, and Rat made a face, laughed, and said he didn’t remember. He didn’t know the kid was capable of lying so well. “She was a nice lady. Real tall and thin,” he looked around the room slowly, as if it helped jog his memory, “nice and funny, had a toothy smile. I ‘member her hair was real short, and when I was a kid, mine was a bit long. We’d joke about switching hair sometimes, so people would get off our asses.” Roadhog listened to Junkrat reminisce. “When I was in kinder, I remember her takin’ me out for the day, outta school, her outta work, us just out, y’know? She took me to the beach. I love the beach,” he sighed, “The day the omnium exploded,” he made an explosion noise and gestured a mushroom cloud with his hands, “She told me we were goin’ to the beach. I asked why all our shit was in her truck, well, I didn’t say shit , she’d’ve given me a mouth fulla soap, but I asked. And she said we were gonna live at the beach. Livin’ on the beach!” He cackled, “I was four when she died. Dunno how she kicked it, maybe it was an accident, or maybe some asshole came in and lit her up. All I know is our little trailer we occupied was turned to ash. When The Vixen up and found me, she said I was so caked in soot, all she could see were this peepers,” he laughed melancholically, until it turned into a sigh, “I don’t know… I can’t remember if this is shit The Vixen told me, or shit I remember on my own. You know me and memories. Me head’s like a tin can with a shit ton of holes in it. The worst part of all of that is… I don’t know… I don’t think I miss her. I don’t have the- attachment? The Vixen? Sure I missed her before I realized she was a psycho bitch , but Mum? I don’t remember enough to actually miss ‘er.” Roadhog sat in silence. The destroyed omnium. The downfall of Jamison’s life. This started with the fucking bots, and ended with the two freaks sitting in a crusty bed together. “I miss you , though,” Junkrat continued, “When you shut down on me, and you have before, not just these few days, I miss you. I’m not one for feelings, and I know you’re definitely not, but fuck, Mako, I miss you,” he put his hands on his forehead, “And I heard on TV that this shit’s about honesty. Bein’ partners and all, it’s all about sharing when your mind’s runnin’ and talkin’ out your problems. I wanna hear that shit goin’ on in your thick skull, cause- Well, you know I love you.” Roadhog sat for a moment, letting the silence dig into Junkrat. And then spoke, “You’re a shit eating kid who doesn’t have the faintest idea of what love is. You don’t know anything about sacrifice, or selflessness-” “I don’t know about selflessness?” Junkrat asked, “Y’mean like this shit?” He pointed to a scar on his stomach, right by his right hip. He was stabbed getting Hog out of a mess. “I’d show y’my fucking hand, missing two fucking fingers, but I lost my whole fucking arm, remember!” Junkrat spat. Running away from gunmen, Hog’s mask was removed. Junkrat knew that without it, he wouldn’t be able to breathe in his gas. He ran back for it, and a sniper blew off two of his fingers. They made it out alright, despite this. “You think I don’t know what love is? Then why the fuck do I only feel it for you? I’ve never felt this about anyone, not the Junkers, not The Vixen, not my fucking mum! It’s only you, Mako! I love you!” Roadhog stood, turned to the rat, and said from behind the mask, “My name is Roadhog.”He walked out the door, and slammed it behind him. This thought still bugged Mako, even though his wife came home in a timely manner, with their sweet little daughter, greeted him with a kiss, and thanked him for taking care of the farm and himself. The thought never left him, even in the days preceding. Even when his wife cuddled up next to him, and read to him, and made love to him, he feared the worst. He sat on the porch, listening to music as he often did, when a nice, black car pulled up the driveway. Seeing who drove it, turned his vision red. He’s here to take everything from you. The car stopped. Out came Clyde with a bouquet of colorful flowers. He waved his robotically-jointed fingers, “Hey Mako! Is Bonnibel home?” He’s here to take her. Mako stood, “Lemme go get her.” He walked into the house, and into the storage closet in the living room. From there, he retrieved a rifle. The omnic had no facial features, but looked immediately frightened. He screamed and tried to run. One shot, though his metal head, and he stopped running. He powered down. He was dead. Bonnie ran out as fast as she could, and screamed as she saw the body of her new friend limp in their driveway. She pushed past her husband and fell to her knees next to the trashed bot. Afraid to touch the hot, sparking metal, she looked up at Mako, who brandished a gun. “What the fuck, Mako?” “He was- He,” Mako looked around at the innocent gesture of flowers and a gift card, “He was here to take you away.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” “They’re- They’re gonna- Bon, they’re gonna take you away from me!” “You killed him!” “He is going to steal you from me!” “He was a fucking kid! Oh my God Mako,” she whimpered. She placed her hand on the omnic’s chest. Mako picked her up to her feet, she screamed and pushed away from him, “Don’t touch me!” “Bon, I did this for you! I did this for our marriage! I didn’t want you to leave me.” “You did this because you’re so afraid that I was going to leave you for him? Are you crazy?” she took a step back from him. She was shaking, her eyes were wide, and she was crying. She asked, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” “I- I- I can’t let him break up our family, I can’t let any omnic take away what’s mine.” “He was just a friend, Mako!”“No,” Mako shouted at his wife, “He was a fucking omnic. And I’ll kill every omnic on this planet if it means I get to stay in this house with you and Piper for another day. I’ll kill every last fucking one of them!”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Then, there was silence between the two. Hog still fed Rat, still listened to music beside him, but not touching him, but there was no dialogue between the two. Rat was going crazy in the silence. All the words he wanted to say, all the fights he wanted to have with the big man, and nothing was happening.
Hog never slept in the bed with him. Every night he said he’d keep watch, and then in the morning, he was already at the couch, waiting for the man to come downstairs with his hair stiffened from sleep and his stomach ready for breakfast. Rat started to wonder if he was even sleeping. He couldn’t see his face anymore, hidden behind the mask.
Jamison woke up a few mornings after he confessed some sort of fucked up love confession to his bodyguard, to find his peg leg missing from beside him. It had rolled off the bed, and onto the floor, scattered atop broken glass. He groggily picked it up to strap his stub of a leg in, when his eye caught a piece of paper from underneath it. It was white, with the words ‘
Mako &’
written in blue on it. Rat picked it up, and on the other side, his eyes were graced by a picture of a beautiful woman in a white gown. There wass a large disembodied hand on her hip, and her hand is placed gingerly somewhere outside the rip in the photo. The woman had curly brown hair, a pearly smile, and warm eyes. She was wrapped up in white, and he’d never seen anyone, anyone in the world, so gracefully happy. He shoved the picture in his pocket, strapped into his leg, and ran downstairs.
“Hey you big lug,” Junkrat said as he approached the bottom of the stairs, “M’starvin’. What’re you making?”
Roadhog held up a white bag with the words ‘white rice’ on them. Junkrat looked over the stove: white rice and powdered eggs.
“Alright, well, call when it’s done,” Junkrat asked, knowing the fat man would not. There wasn’t a lot to do when they weren’t on the run. The days felt long and boring, filled with too much downtime. Junkrat was itching to destroy something.
He checked his traps for anything, hoping there was someone or something to make his time worthwhile. The trap by the car was still buried almost completely under the dust and gravel of the driveway. The one by the back stairs had been unearthed by dry wind blowing away the leaves, but it was just as empty. The third, on the side of the house, just below the broken window into the living room, didn’t trap anything, but that’s not what caught the rat’s eye.
Junkrat had a luck for finding treasure, and this was probably the biggest one of them all.
“Hey, Pig, where’s the emergency kit?”
Finally, words. “What did you do?” The muffled grumble from behind the mask was music to the rat’s ears.
“Oh, I have to have fucked myself to get your attention?” Junkrat asked, “None of yer fucking business, now where is it?”
“My side of the bed.”
“I’d know where that was if you ever bothered to sleep there, you cunt!” Junkrat spat with a lighthearted giggle, and headed upstairs.
“For the love of-” Roadhog stopped himself from saying anything more.
It’s not worth the energy.
Despite not caring about the kid, he made two plates, and sat them opposite each other at the dinner table.
Junkrat took the emergency kit with him into the bathroom, locked the door, and rifled through it. The roll of duct tape was dwindling thin, and would cover the back caption of the photo. The mostly empty bottle of lubricant wouldn’t do much to the photo other than ruin it. All that was left was the needle and thread.
Jamison wasn’t a seamstress, but he could make it work.
Roadhog sat at the table and ate with his mask mostly off. It had been awhile since his face felt something other than the unreleased stale air that came from his mouth. But the table felt empty without the quick, erratic eating of his so-called boss. Something in his chest felt lonely, and sentimental. He finished his food, and put his mask back on.
He walked up the stairs and put his hand to the door of the bathroom.
“Rat, food.”
“Uh, now’s not a good time Hog!” Junkrat replied nervously, “I’m takin’ a huge shit!”
“It’s gonna get cold-”
“Just leave it there, I’ve eaten worse. Let me be!”
Roadhog rolled his eyes, and went about his business.
Junkrat tied the thread, which he wasn’t quite sure was sterile enough to use for stitches, and turned the photo over; seeing two halves become whole. It was mostly straight, only overlapping toward the bottom, where the woman’s skirt fluffed out, covering part of the man’s leg.
Junkrat looked at the faces of the people in the picture. The man looked so happy, so filled with innocent pride and glee, holding the woman so close and yet so gingerly, as if he was afraid he was going to crush her. Her hand, placed on his chest, with his hand over that, and a genuine smile almost brought Junkrat to tears.
He flipped over the picture, and on the back was scrawled
‘Mako & Bonnibel Rutledge, 2049’.
He’s seen Mako laugh, he’d seen Mako smile, but he’d never seen Mako so happy.
He avoided the hog the rest of the day, afraid he was going to somehow reveal he had the picture, and instead, constructed extra weaponry.
Night fell again, and Rat invited Hog up to the room to sleep. Afraid things were going to go sour again, Junkrat left his leg on, so he could stand and follow Hog if he were to leave.
Hog sat at his side of the bed, facing away from Rat. Rat rounded the bed and sat next to his partner, placing a hand on his leg.
“I’m not an idiot, Hog.”
Roadhog did not move.
“God, you might think me mad, but I’m not fucking blind,” Junkrat continued, “I’ve got intuition. I can pick up moods. I know when someone is hurting as bad as you are right now.”
Roadhog looked over at Junkrat suddenly, but still did not speak.
“I know what it’s like to hold it in. I know what it’s like to want to be strong, because, fuck, that’s the only difference between us and a hole in the ground. But what the
fuck
Hog? Do you really have to pretend that I don’t know what this feels like? You don’t trust me enough to share what’s going on in your mind.” Junkrat put a hand in his pocket, “We all have pasts, Mako, I want you to trust me enough to let me know yours, or else, how are we any different than the people out there who fuck each other over in a matter of seconds for another meal? I wanna know that you lo- care enough about me to separate us from the fuckers in Junkertown.”
“I wish you would stop making shit up,” Roadhog replied, “The air’s making you crazy.” He could feel his throat tighten.
“Then look me in the eye, no fucking mask, and tell me you didn't, or even don't anymore, love Bonnibel Rutledge,” Junkrat pulled out the photo and pointed to the couple, “Tell me that this isn’t you. And that you never loved a woman enough to do
this
with her, and move to the fucking farm country and live in a house with her. Do it,
Mako
.”
Roadhog couldn’t do it. He took of the mask and set it on the bed, and looked up at his boss with tired eyes from sleepless nights.
Junkrat looked like he was bordering manic, when the command came from his mouth, “Go on then, do it.”
He finally looked at the photo, one of he and his old life-partner, then to the rat, his new, crime-partner, and an emotion came over him, one he hadn’t felt in years. Utter, grieving, profound sadness.
And just like that, in front of his boss, in front of the man that sought strength and protection from him, Mako Rutledge, also known as Roadhog, the ruthless killer, began to weep.
Bonnie never seemed to forgive Mako for laying waste to the omnic. She, instead, headed inside, and, shakingly told him to bury the body, and later that day, they parked his car outside the bus station, like he just ran away. After that, she was quiet, shut down by a deed her husband did.
But Mako would rather her introspect the so-called murder, than leave him for an omnic.
The weekend rolled around, and Mako went into town to buy groceries for his family. He took a little while longer out there, stopping to get Piper another stuffed turnip to add to her collection and a bouquet of beautiful tulips for his wife.
As Mako pulled into their long dirt driveway, he saw his wife’s car with the trunk open and stocked. The back door behind the passenger seat was open, and out came Bonnie, holding Piper in her arms, one hand against the back of her head, the other, supporting her by holding her at her bottom. Her legs kicked slightly, but Mako could see nothing but panic on Bonnibel’s face. He was holding the flowers in one hand and the pachimari in the other as he approached the car with a pace that picked up when he saw her face.
He thought there was an emergency.
“Don’t come a step closer Mako!” Bonnibel threatened with a shaky voice. Piper was sobbing in her arms.
“Wh- Bon, what happened?” He stopped.
“Don’t move!” She held her baby girl tighter, “Just let me put Piper in the car.”
“What?” he looked at the trunk. It held a few boxes, and two suitcases, “What are you doing?”
“Piper and I are getting out of here,” she yelled, her voice full of fear, “Without you.”
Mako dropped the toy and the bouquet, and took a step forward. Bonnibel took a scared step back. “Don’t you fucking dare!” she screamed. She rounded the car and, as fast as she could, buckled her young daughter into the seat. Mako rounded the car at the same time, meeting her by the door. Piper reached out her arms, screaming and crying for her dad.
Bonnie snapped at their daughter, “Put your arms inside so Mommy can close the door.”
“
I don’t wanna go
,” Piper wept, her mouth stretching wide in her sorrow. Bonnie managed to close the door without hurting her daughter, and stood in front of the door handle so Mako wouldn’t try to open it back up.
“What the fuck are you thinking, Bon?”
“You killed someone,” Bon hit his chest, “You killed someone conscious and sentient! A kid with hopes and dreams and a fucking future, Mako! I’m getting us the fuck out of here before you do that again!”
“What?” Mako grabbed her wrists, attempting to hold her there, “A conscious person? That was a fucking omnic! One that’s forcing us out of our homes! We’re gonna have to get rid of the house because of them! They’re destroying
our
family, for what? A place to build more fucking robots?”
“
They
didn’t destroy our family!” Bonnie struggled to break from his hold, “
You
did! Did you think that if we didn’t have the fucking house and the fucking pigs that Piper and I wouldn’t be there for you? I was there before! I was there when we lived in fucking Perth! When you were cooped up in a lab all day and smelled like formaldehyde! I still was there! And I still loved you!” She slammed the trunk.
“But the omnics-”
“I’m mad too! I’m mad that we’re being displaced! I’m mad at the fucking circumstance! I’m not going to take it out on a fucking kid!” Bonnie pushed off of him, and ran to the front seat. She swung open the door, but Mako grabbed her back.
“So what? You’re going to leave me? And go where?”
“Anywhere but here!” she screamed into his face, “Far the fuck away from you.”
Piper’s sobs could be heard from the back seat. Through her sobs, Mako would hear, in a loud, hoarse, child’s voice, “
I want Daddy!
”
“And if you try to fucking follow us,” Bon pointed in his face, “I’ll tell the police about the omnic in the backyard. I’ll tell them you parked the kid’s car. I’ll tell them you threatened me if I spoke up!”
“
Daddy
!” Piper’s screams were stretched out as long as her little lungs could handle it. Tears fell from her eyes and drool pooled in her mouth. Her screams rang in Bonnie and Mako’s ears. Bonnie climbed into the car.
Mako tried to pull her out, and she closed the door on his arm. He retracted back. She locked the door, and rolled the window down a crack.
Through Piper’s screams, Bonnie said, with tears rolling down her face, “I loved Mako Rutledge, and I’ll love him until the day I die,” she swallowed, “He was the man I fell in love with. The man I married,” she cracked a smile, “I don’t know the man in front of me, he ain’t Mako. He’s a paranoid, terrifying, murderous pig.”
Mako beat the window, demanding she get out of the car. The car engine started, and Mako slipped his fingers into the crack of the window, trying to walk with the car as it picked up speed, but eventually, he had to let go. All he could do after the car was out of his reach was scream for his wife and child.
“Bonnibel! Piper! Come back!”
Rat had never held Hog. They never cuddled. They never bathed in an afterglow, or comforted each other when thoughts got the better of them, hell, they never shared when thoughts got the better of them. But to hear the big man sob with his hand covering his face, and shakes riddling his body, the only thing Junkrat felt like he could do was offer a hug.
Hearing Roadhog explain losing his wife and kid like that even made the rat himself a little emotional.
“I never,” Roadhog grunted, “I never thought I’d see this place again. After I- After the omnium blew up, I thought this place would be toothpicks.” He combed his hair back and out of his face, “I know Mako. I know who he was. He was a good man. And I know he’s dead now. I just hope that the kid, and the woman- I hope they didn’t suffer the same fate.” And again, came the blundering, shaking sobs that rocked his body.
Junkrat leaned him back onto the mattress, and said in the most soothing voice he could muster, “Man, if this house makes you feel this way, then fuck it. Fuck this house. It’s you and me buddy, all you gotta focus on is you and me.”
Roadhog still held his face in a crying shame.
“Prolly not what you wanna hear,” Rat said while petting him, “But I- I love Roadhog or Mako. Either of them is good’nuff for me mate. And if you wanna just be Rat and Hog, instead of Mako and Jamie, I’m more than happy to comply. But no matter what, I’m stickin’ with you. It’s just you and me against the world.”
Roadhog continued to sob, letting out years of repressed emotion, and Junkrat just continued to hold him.
“Notice anything different about me?” the young woman framed her face with her hands.
Her mother couldn’t put a finger on it. Her hair was still the same- thick, long, and dark, just like her father’s. Her makeup was no different than usual, and she had no new piercings. It wasn’t until the daughter quite obviously fluttered her hand in front of her face that she noticed the lavish, diamond ring on her finger.
“
Piper Hahana Rutledge
!” Bonnibel called out, slamming her hands on the table. It rattled the cutlery, and a few people looked on, but the older woman did not mind. The two were out for lunch so that Piper could make this announcement.
After leaving the Rutledge farm, Bonnibel took she and her daughter on the other side of the island, just the two of them. Right before the destruction of the omnium, Bonnie took Piper, and moved abroad, to Wales.
Bonnibel could not believe her eyes. Her little girl, all grown up and in love.
“She proposed last week,” Piper placed a hand on her chest, “It was beautiful Mum. She took me on a beach walk, we brought a picnic basket, and she brought out these champagne flutes, and when she set her’s down it tipped over, and she was so sly about it, like ‘Oh the bottom of it must be chipped or something, Pipes, can you check it out?’ and the ring was Scotch taped to the bottom! I felt like such an idiot, picking it up and checking! I honestly didn’t see it through the glass!”
“Oh my God, Piper!” Bon held her hand tight, “I always liked that Alyssa! I’m so proud of you- Just! Congrats!” She sighed happily.
“We’re thinking about a winter wedding, have it indoors so there’s no risk of snow, right?”
“Winter’s nice,” Bonnie nodded, and looked back down at the wedding ring. It made her look down at her own: never removed.
Piper’s eyes locked with the ring as well.
“What time of year did you and Dad get married?” Piper asked.
“
Piper,
” Bon sighed.
“What? I’m not allowed to ask about him?” Piper hardly remembered her father. Only bits and pieces. She remembered that there was screaming and yelling the day they went away, but was never filled in on the circumstances of their leaving; Only that her father wasn’t fit to be a father any longer.
“You know how I feel about- I just-” Bonnie sighed heavily, “It was April.”
“That’s nice,” Piper smiled, and stirred her drink with her straw, “How did he propose?”
“Piper, really. I can’t- I can’t think about it,” she said, “I can’t think about ‘Stralia, I can’t think about Mako, I can’t think about the farm. It doesn’t do anything but hurt.”
“Well, tell me this,” Piper didn’t look up from her drink until after she asked the question, “Do you think that he’s dead?”
“What?” Bon asked, slightly aghast.
“Do you think the destruction of the omnium killed him?” Piper’s tone was not sad, but there was sadness in her eyes, “Or the irradiation?”
Bonnie took a long sip of her drink, and then placed it down gingerly. She said, promptly, “Back home is pretty harsh nowadays, but I think he’d’ve managed. I wouldn’t be surprised if the man led the ALF himself,” Bonnie looked down at the table, then at her daughter, “Why all the questions?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you… miss him?”
“I think,” Piper’s eyes flashed down, “Do you?”
“Of course,” Bonnie laughed, “I miss the man every God damned day. But I don’t think the man I married exists any more.”
The mother-daughter duo sat in silence, until the tv played another ad for ‘
A Moment in Crime
’. This was the third one since they’ve been seated. The first criminal was an drug gang leader that went by the name “Christi Cleer” who operated out of New York, but was somewhere in Europe, in hiding. The second was an omnic duo who went by “Boney and Claude” who were hitting all banks on the west coast of the United States.
“Tonight, on A Moment in Crime. Their spree of mayhem and chaos has caused untold millions in property damage around the world, but who are these two deranged Junkers, and what inspired their orgy of destruction? Is this the work of a master criminal? Or just a couple of idiots?”
Piper scoffed, “Look at this freak’s face.” She pointed at the TV as the announcer ragged on about Junkrat and his obsession with explosives, “I always have to turn this ad off every time it comes on TV. This kid’s face haunts my nightmares.” She looked away from the television as it spoke about Roadhog.
Bonnie thanked whatever God out there as it plastered Piper’s father’s name on the television for just a few seconds. Bonnie didn’t even know if Piper knew her father’s name was Mako, but she’d rather her not even think about being related to a world-known thief and murderer.
“I just hope they catch those two fuckers,” Piper scoffed, “Did you hear they stole the crown jewels?”
“A’course.”
“And man, twenty-five mil for their heads? I’m surprised they haven’t been dragged in in body bags yet.”
“I don’t know if body bags are necessary,” Bonnie said, “I do agree they need to be stopped as soon as possible, but I honestly hope they get the rehabilitation they deserve.”
“
Roadhog
!” Junkrat shook his partner awake, standing beside the bed and clutching his shoulders, “Roadhog, wake up!”
Hog’s eyes cracked open, and in front of his face was Jamison’s face, fully illuminated. It felt like he had slept a total of twenty minutes. The crying had really done a number on his head.
“Hog, we’ve got to get out of here, the house is on fire,” Junkrat shook him once more.
Roadhog stood with this realization, and asked, “What happened?”
“I don’t know! The candles might’ve burned up a curtain or somethin’! We gotta get the fuck outta ‘ere!”
Roadhog and Junkrat ran downstairs together, and at the front porch Rat shouted, “Careful, trap!” He stuck his peg leg into the location of the trap, and as it snapped closed, he slid the leg out. He threw it into the trunk with all the food and water he packed away before he started the fire and stopped at the front of the burning house, watching it become completely engulfed.
Junkrat looked up at the fire he made, proud, but not proud enough to reveal the secret to Roadhog. He lit the house ablaze, because, as nice as it was to have a home where they didn’t have to watch their backs, it caused a rift in their relationship, Roadhog to hurt, and to be quite honest, being domestic just wasn’t in him. He let the fire get a little out of control before waking Roadhog up, to make it look like an unstoppable emergency.
He stood out front of it and called for his partner. Hog stood beside him and asked, “What?”
“I managed to grab this before leavin’ the bedroom. I wanted to know if you wanted it?” With his metal hand, he offered the wedding photo, that folded in half limply along its seam.
Roadhog took the photo in his paw, and was forced to look down at his large hands. They were hands that laid waste to cities, hands that murdered and destroyed and wreaked havoc, and also, they were hands that held a newborn baby, and slipped a wedding ring onto a woman’s finger.
He was allowed to be both.
He threw the picture into the fire, watched it fold and deform in the heat of it all. Junkrat’s flesh hand grazed Roadhog’s shoulder, and he said, “I’m supportin’ you in any choice you make.”
Roadhog smiled, and slipped the mask on. The two sat and watched the dancing flame engulf everything that was good in that house for a few minutes, until Rat peeped, “Y’think we should take off? Y’know, before this big ass fire attracts any assholes lookin for us on the way?”
“Probably,” Roadhog said from behind the mask, and gave Junkrat a firm pat on the back.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here!” Rat said with an erratic giggle as he hopped in the driver’s seat, “Ey, how ‘bout Sydney? How far’s that from here?”
“About 36 hours,” Hog said with a hearty laugh.
“I can manage,” Junkrat almost broke into hysterics.
Roadhog stopped for a moment, and watched as Junkrat started the car. He tousled his thick, blonde hair and said in his deep, gravelly voice, “Sounds lovely.”