Send me ‘ 🌪 ‘ to catch my muse in the middle of a violent breakdown. - drxpthebeat
It had only been about a week since the notorious junker criminals had been absorbed into the organization - Overwatch, or something stupid sounding like that. Roadhog had seemed to adjust rather quickly, easing into the lull of a systematic group far more smoothly than anyone had expected.
Junkrat, on the other hand?
The irradiated Outback filled with ruthless killers and radiation and animals and insects clambering to kill you, its harsh weather either drying you to a crisp or melting you into a puddle of human goo in a storm of acid rain… that, he could deal with. Running from police forces on every continent, in every city? Nearly escaping tower-leveling explosions and dodging whizzing bullets? All of that was fun! Normal.
When Roadhog was sent off on a mission without his charge on their second week in, shit hit the proverbial fan.
It had started with nail biting, hall pacing anxiety. Hog was gone and he didn’t know anyone and wasn’t familiar with the base yet. What if he got lost? What if one of the other agents tried to come at him for his treasure, or the bounty hovering over his head? Thin fingers both flesh and metal tangled in patches of dry, char-tipped strands of blonde, yanking and tugging until more fell out in wispy clumps.
It all was going downhill terrifyingly fast.
His breath caught in his throat, lungs contracting and refusing to take in any more oxygen. Vivid, wide eyes scanned his surroundings too quickly to take any of them in, getting warmer and warmer and blurring, colours and shapes melding into a sickening swirl of overwhelming confusion and distrust and fear.
He didn’t want to be here anymore.
A sob ripped though his trembling frame and curled fingers cracked sickeningly against the wall nearest to him again and again, Jamison not caring if it was his remaining hand or prosthetic one making contact with the smooth metal surface. He screamed and it was a terrible sound, raw and overwhelmed and just too much pent up everything that was clawing its way out and he couldn’t breathe or think or-
Rat slid down to the floor and pulled his legs tight to his heaving chest, face burying into his knees as if trying to make himself small enough to disappear.
He wanted to go home; not the Outback, no, but travelling the world with Roadhog at his side, causing mischief and mayhem and listening to no one but themselves… That’s what home was to the Rat, and he missed it terribly.
