#i open a google doc and the brain rot takes over and here we are

[buddie-buddie]

Bucktommy + “Go back to sleep.”

“Go back to sleep,” Tommy mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

Buck finishes tugging Tommy’s duvet up, tucking it beneath his chin and curling in on himself in an attempt to warm up. He doesn’t care if it makes him a blanket thief; he’s cold. Plus, Tommy is practically a human space heater. He’s laying beside Buck in nothing but his boxer briefs and looks perfectly content. Meanwhile, Buck’s in sweatpants and a hoodie and can’t seem to shake the chill that’s climbing up his spine and taking up residence deep in his bones.

He mumbles a sleepy apology, but if the way Tommy’s breathing has already evened out again is any indication, he doesn’t hear it.

Waking up next to Tommy is all of Buck’s wildest dreams come true. He loves waking up with the familiar, grounding weight of Tommy’s arm draped over him, loves the way Tommy tightens his grip as he feels Buck stir beneath him, how he mumbles a sleepy “Morning, baby,” into his hair as Buck slowly blinks his eyes awake.

Every day he wakes up next to Tommy is a dream, but days off are the best.

Days off are when Buck wakes up warm and cozy in a sun-drenched room, tucked against Tommy, their bodies curled around each other like a pair of parentheses. The warm, familiar rumble of Tommy’s early morning voice low in his ear, the brush of his lips against the shell of his ear, chased away by the slight burn from Tommy’s day-old stubble against his skin as he trails kisses down his cheek, across his jaw. For a few quiet moments, it’s just them. There are no alarms ringing, no fires to put out, no helicopters to fly, no nothing. There’s nothing but them. Nothing to do except just be.

The thought of this particular day off– this particular morning– was the thing Buck was most looking forward to all week. And it had been an epically awful week. It had been six days since the last time their days off had last lined up, and he’d been all but crawling out of his skin with his need to see his boyfriend outside of a quick FaceTime call between claxons ringing.

On top of that, the station’s A/C had been on the fritz and Chimney had been out sick with a flu he still insisted he didn’t have, both of which made shifts considerably less enjoyable. They’d had a few really tough calls, including an especially hard loss in the middle of the week that was still living behind Buck’s ribs and needling at his heart each time the air fell silent and his mind began to wander.

Their shared 48 off had been the light at the end of the tunnel. A very dark tunnel that was starting to feel less like a tunnel and more like an inescapable hole towards the end, but a tunnel nonetheless.

“Hot date?” Hen had teased him as he all but ran for the locker room the moment B shift started filtering in through the bay doors.

Buck thought about what was waiting for him. His sweet, beautiful boyfriend. His favorite pad thai takeout from the mom and pop place around the corner from Harbor. Sheets that smell like Tommy and a pair of reading glasses on the nightstand and two toothbrushes next to each other in the cup beside the sink.

“Yeah,” Buck grinned, dipping his chin as his cheeks flushed. “You could say that.”

The feeling of waking up beside Tommy is everything Buck always wanted and never let himself believe he could actually have. It’s better than anything he ever could’ve dreamed up. Even now, when he wakes up and it’s still pitch black outside, the only light in the room coming from the glow of Buck’s phone on the nightstand as he taps it awake to check the time. It’s not even four o’clock.

No wonder Tommy told him to go back to sleep.

They’ve barely been asleep for five hours, and after the week he’s had, Buck would like at least twice that before even considering getting out of bed. But he’s up now and he’s freezing. He flips over beneath Tommy’s arm, turning to face him and curling himself into Tommy’s side with a small, content sigh. He tucks his head beneath Tommy’s chin in a shameless attempt to leech his body heat.

Tommy murmurs something indecipherable in his sleep, one of his big, warm hands coming up to rest between Buck’s shoulder blades. His welcome touch is warm and familiar, instantly soothing. And yet, it does nothing to stop another shiver from running through Buck.

He closes his eyes, starting to drift back to sleep just as Tommy shifts beneath him.

“Evan,” Tommy says quietly, concern clinging to the word. “Baby, wake up.”

Buck blinks slowly, confused. “Y’just told me to go back to sleep.”

“You’re burning up,” Tommy says, his other hand coming up to feel Buck’s forehead. He makes a tsk sound under his breath. He tries to sit up, but Buck protests by way of a sleepy whine, holding onto Tommy even tighter.

“M’cold,” Buck mumbles against Tommy’s chest.

“C’mon,” Tommy says gently. “Let me up. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

Buck is too tired to argue. Tommy extricates himself, and Buck can tell he tries his best not to disturb him too much as he does. True to his word, Tommy returns a moment later. He runs the thermometer over Buck’s forehead, and its rapid warning beeps are followed by a small displeased sigh.

“Fever?” Buck asks. Another shiver wracks through him, and he knows the answer.

Tommy’s hand is warm and solid as it rests on his cheek, his thumb stroking over Buck’s cheekbone in a soothing back and forth. “Yeah,” Tommy says. Buck can hear his frown. “Gonna give you some Tylenol.”

Buck lets Tommy help him sit up enough to bring the pills and a glass of water to his lips. He’s a little more awake now, enough to register the way that his head feels heavy and his eyes feel hot behind their lids. His arms and legs ache as he settles against the pillows, and he has a fleeting memory of Maddie saying that Chim’s flu started out with a high fever and body aches.

“Be right back,” Tommy promises.

And he is. He returns a moment later with another blanket, a heavy one. He covers Buck with it, tucking it beneath his chin and running a hand through his hair fondly before climbing back into bed beside him.

“No,” Buck protests. “I’ll get you sick.”

Tommy’s arms encircle him, pulling him in until they’re pressed up against each other. “Don’t care,” he says simply. “We’ve already been pretty close.”

Buck sighs against Tommy’s neck, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he remembers the very enthusiastic reacquainting that happened against the back of Tommy’s front door no more than a minute after Buck had come through it. Not to mention the hours they spent on the couch watching a movie after dinner, with Tommy’s arm around him and Buck’s head on Tommy’s shoulder. All of which was before they fell asleep practically plastered to one another.

Tommy does have a point.

But Buck felt fine going to bed, which means the fever must have spiked pretty recently, which means it could be early enough that Tommy could still save himself and—

“I can hear you overthinking.”

Buck frowns. “Am not.” And then a moment later, “I’ll go to the guest room.”

“No you won’t,” Tommy says simply. “There’s no blanket on the bed.”

“But you—”

Tommy silences him with a kiss to his forehead. “I am exactly where I want to be.”

Buck’s heart squeezes. A tiny, happy sigh falls from his lips. And for the first time since waking up, he feels warm all over.

prompt game

[theaxolotlkween]

Corn Maze

Disclaimer: Writer has never been to a corn maze

 You didn’t think that your detour would be worth it. But it was a decent amount of autumny, Halloween-y fun. You hadn’t been to a corn maze since you were younger, or so you think. The experience was too familiar and nostalgic for you to have not been at least once. You exit the maze and walk up to the farmer who runs the place. You hand him a crisp $5. 

“You already paid your due,” the farmer insists, trying to shove the bill back into your hand.

“No, no, I wanted to tip that one actor. They really frightened me! And it doesn’t seem like you get many visitors here anyway.” You say. The farmer visibly pales, his pupils constrict. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his waxy face.

“We don’t have any actors here.” He says, holding the dollar out to you. You awkwardly laugh at first. He’s got to be joking, right?

But the look in the farmer’s eyes is serious. Dead serious. You shakily take back the dollar, shoving it back into your pocket. Your doc martens crunch on the gravel as you make your way to the car, and you pull your thick, sherpa-lined flannel jacket closer to you. Night is falling now. You get into your car and give one last sheepish wave to the farmer. He just grimly stares at you, not waving back. Not moving at all. You swear he’s not even breathing. You jam the keys into your car, starting the engine and driving away.

You tell your roommates about the interesting corn maze you went to, leaving out the eerie experience you had at the end. One of your roommates pulls out their phone. 

“What’s the name of the farm?” They ask you. You can’t remember. 

“It was down the back road. The one that goes to the university.” You answer. How can you not remember the name of the farm? You drive past it almost every day, going to and from your classes. 

Your roommates look at you suspiciously. The one with the phone out looks along the road in Google Maps. 

“There’s nothing there that says that there’s a corn maze open.” They announce. You blink, bewildered. 

“Are you sure? There should be a farm along the road.” You say. Your roommate shakes their head. 

“No, nothing.” They conclude. 

Neither you or your roommates talk about it for the rest of the evening, opting to watch Hocus Pocus. You laugh and point out the cheesiness with them. But you know that they’re all thinking about what you said. You’re thinking about it too. 

The next day, you try to put the corn field out of your mind as you drive to your morning classes, avoiding even looking at the farm. You go throughout your day normally, as if nothing was wrong. But thoughts about the corn maze hums in the back of your brain, drawing you back. 

As you drive back home, you pull up into the farm’s parking lot again, looking for answers. It’s the same farm, but you notice things you haven’t before. 

The wood on the house and barn is bloated and rotting. The painted signs advertising pumpkin picking and the corn maze are so worn that you can barely read what they’re for. The maze itself is nothing more than dry, withered stalks. You see the farmer in the distance in what you think used to be the pumpkin patch. You walk over to him.

“Sir?” You ask as you walk up to him. He doesn’t answer. You approach further. 

“Sir!” You say again, but your jaw drops. The farmer is a withered corpse, propped up like a scarecrow. You want to scream but your throat tightens as you freeze. Out of the corner of your eye, you see something, tall and shadowy, stumbling where the corn maze used to be. Husky, ragged breathing rings in your ears. 

You sprint to your car. 

[ka-writes]

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Notes- Did I decide I was gonna write a fic at 2:00 AM? Yes yes I did... anyways I don’t have an archive account yet but I wanted to get it out there.... um here is chapter one of my space AU, because I absolutely fell in love with the AU.

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Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Ohh also challenge if you wanna do it, fill in the Title! And another one... if you were an alien what question would you ask a human other than basic questions, like name and age.

Also suggestions are always appreciated! And if you wanna support my main blog it is kadoodle.. also I have no updating schedule so I will when I want to.

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Warnings: Cussing, mentions of tight spaces and characters being trapped, mentions of corpses, and needles.

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“Humans are [Insert text here]”

Chapter 1: Idiots kidnap the wrong kid..

Honestly, life hasn't been bad. His needs were met, most of the time, and he had a.. place to sleep…

Yeah no life wasn’t great.

Tommy was easily, barely, avoiding Social Services. Sleeping on benches and occasionally grass. He got whatever wasn’t wanted and had an official bag for the first time. He had some spare clothes, and no money. The authorities stopped looking for him after a while and the only main challenge was getting essentials.

No one would miss him. No one would look for him. Therefore he was the perfect target among many others. The only thing setting him apart was his sheer ability to survive, not a want, like many of the others, it was a fact he would survive. Not that his captors knew that of course.

Alternative: Tommy gets kidnapped by aliens and sbi rescues him.

——————

He woke up in a cage.

Not a cell or a room, a fucking cage.

There were a few others in various cages around the room. All of which were either dead or close to it. Most of the ones still alive had been there for months, possibly years. No one knew of course.

The smell of rotting bodies stenched the place with a coppery coating. The room wasn’t large but not quite small. It was dull grey with layers of grime settling on the floor and cages. The room was long and skinny, lined with cages against either wall in a zig zag format. The only light was coming from the small door window, which happened to be positioned right in front of Tommy. It glowed a faint yellow and was blurry, not allowing Tommy to see into the hall.

Shadows would occasionally pass by the window. None ever stopped at it. Causing the ever growing hunger to grow more. Once one had stopped at the door, not for more than a second, before it screeched. It was inhuman and sounded like a hurt hawk from one of those nature documentaries. Tommy shoved his hands onto his ears and waited for it to stop. The thing chuckled, not like a human, but something close to it.

——————

Tommy waited for what seemed like hours before something happened. The door opened, sliding into the ceiling. A weird looking creature stepped in. It looked like it had a porcelain mask over its face with a painted smiley face. There were no ears or hair, instead just more porcelain, which formed a spear which sat on shadows. The thing was wearing a lime green hoodie and black leather pants that seemingly faded into the creature's legs. The knees bent inwards causing it to look awfully awkward as it crouched near Tommy’s cage. The hands were long and lanky with no real palm. The creature also had a tail that looked close to how Tommy pictured a devil's tail to look. This was the first time in ages Tommy was glad to be behind bars.

The thing pointed at itself and said,

“Dream.”

In the most heavily accented English Tommy had ever heard. That didn’t matter as much of the fact that the seemingly painted smile moved with the words.

“Come.”

The creature unlocked the cage and half dragged Tommy out of the cage into what Tommy presumed to be the lab. He noticed a window. The only thing for miles was stars. He was in space. He had been kidnapped by Aliens. Fuck.

——————

Humans were a heavily avoided species. The things were what kids would expect to come out of their closet. They were feared, and for good reason.

The first ship to find Earth was ecstatic. Finding another intelligent species in what would’ve been deemed as a planetary desert was a scientific breakthrough. Causing the entirety of the media to go insane for a couple of years.. That was until the first ship ventured onto the planet. It was immediately shot down. The entire crew was killed and the entirety of the ship was destroyed in a matter of minutes. The ISF (Intergalactic Safety Force) deemed it as a no flight zone and claimed to punish anyone in the desert. Even so poachers smuggled humans and within days had their ship crashed.

The only ones allowed to take humans were scientists, who were specialized in taking care of difficult species. They were allowed to test on said species and do whatever they wanted, in the name of science of course. Most people didn’t care how they treated them and were really only interested in what could kill them.

Which is where Wilbur came in. He was a toxicologist, a scientist studying poisons, he also dealt with various potions and other chemical mixes. This knowledge is what gained his entry to the Dream Team Ship.

He had been testing on around nine different humans for the past six months on the celestial calendar. This time Dream, his boss and the captain, brought in a juvenile human. He was skinny and lanky. Clearly had been starving before being taken. He felt bad before shaking off his pity.

“V74 and V83. Make sure he can communicate beforehand.” Dream promptly stated before leaving the kid in the room.

Wilbur tried not to think about his terrified face, before he clipped on the translator. Usually it is worn on the back of the head, since humans brains are vastly different than most species, it is clipped to the left side of the head.

The translator looks like a simple device when in reality it took dozens of celestial years to perfect it. It’s a small silver disk that ingrains into the part of the brain that controls communicating. After the body gets used to the device it can translate any language into one you understand instantly.

It took a couple more years for the translator to incorporate the estimated 7,000 languages spoken on Earth. For a planet that has been isolated it has a more complex and diverse set of cultures and languages, than Pellucidian has had in centuries. To say Wilbur was jealous, wouldn’t be far from the truth. Not that he studied cultures for a living. It was something that always interested him.

He put the device on the kid’s head and grimaced at the pain that was on the kid’s face. He quickly dried up the blood and mixed a solution that would ease the pain. It was clear and tasted like water, which is the only way they got humans to take the pain reduction.

The kid relaxed for a spilt second before tending at the unfamiliar setting.

“Where am I?” He snapped, causing Wilbur to jump back a bit, before collecting himself and standing up.

“The Dream Team craft’s labatory.” The kid’s face flashed with panic for a split second, “You have two testings scheduled for today. It will go quickly.”

“Will it be painful?” The kid asked. As standard for testing, Wilbur ignored the question and measured the substances. He quickly cleaned the puncture spot before giving him the needle.

The kid winced in pain. Wilbur swiftly led him to the testing chair. It had restraints that moved with the patient's body, which prevented bruising while keeping them in place. Wilbur clicked them on and sat at the desk located to the left of the kid.

“What did you inject into me?” The kid asked clearly trying to fight off the anesthetic.

“A dosage of Lidocaine, which is an anesthetic for your species. It’s only to numb pain that may come with the solutions we will be using today.” The kid’s face flashed with a deeper panic than before, causing Wilbur to tense. “We won’t start yet, since we have a list of questions to go through before we begin.” Wilbur lied. He hated testing people, especially kids. Dream of course didn’t care, like the rest of the Dreamon species. It made him sick. That was when he made a split second decision. Hoping he could get a distress signal out, without alerting the other crew members. He was gonna get the kid off the ship, at the next stop of course. Which was in three celestial hours.

The kid scoffed, clearly not believing the lie. He paused a moment thinking over his options before he smirked,“Fine. Ask me what you want bitch-boy!” Wilbur gasped, clearly not anticipating the insult.

——————

Chapter 1 End

1406 words

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End notes: Why the hell does google docs make it so hard to copy and paste??

Also I had to do some intense googling for this... I hope you enjoyed!

(Also also this is my first ever fanfic... please give feedback and reblog!!)

Minor mistakes are forgiven... don’t expect me to be perfect... I am dyslexic.

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Tommy: ....

Wilbur: ....

*intense starring*

Wilbur POV: I am kidnapping it.

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Chapter 2:

[carryonmylovelies]

😎 fic writer interview 😎

thank u for tagging me @carryonsimoncarryonbaz and @bazypitchandsimonsnow and @fight-surrender 🥺🥺 ily guys thank u so so much 💘💘💘

Name: raegan!! some cute bitches on here call me rae which i also like. im thinking about going by casey at some point too so any are sexy and work for me 🐸

Fandoms: omg carry on is my main one have u guys heard of it???? its literally amazing 🤩 i also am majorly slutty for captive prince and the raven cycle 💕💕 but um currently i am tiddies deep in the haikyu!! fandom its kind of crazy 🤡 i watched it at the beginning of quarantine and it took over my entire life. i probably wrote over 30-40k words of random haikyu fics over the summer but i didn't post anything so they just live in a 90 page google document on my laptop 🤪 i also wrote a bit for hunter x hunter and demon slayer. carry on anime stans PLEASE interact 😩😩 i also read a shit ton of webcomics and manhwas so 👀 @milo-fanarts this bitch knows

Where you post: ao3, that sexy drop dead gorgeous love of my life fanfic site 🥵🥵 i also throw my shit on ffn for absolutely no reason except clout. i haven't read anything on there in a Century

Most popular one-shot: uhhhhh Baz's Willpower Vs. Black Leggings has that spot in the bag. it was very fun to write and takes place while they're still at watford for extra flavor. im glad its my most popular one-shot hehe

Most popular multi-chapter: literally the fic i wrote most recently 🤪 you're coming down, i'm warming up. its definitely the fic im most proud of AND it has TWO super sexy pieces of fanart for it i literally scream and pass out every time i look at them. (@lotus-of-light @wunder-kin) two chapters are t and function as a whole fic and then the third chapter is e and is bonus material pretty much 💋

Fic you were nervous to post: uhhhhh probably the last chapter of that one ^^^ bc it was my first time posting smut lmaooooo. but my darling smut beta @milo-fanarts helped me knock that shit out 😎 plus the comments ive gotten on that chapter have all been sooo nice and positive so i think it worked out 😎

How do you choose your titles: my clown brain. occasionally some songs. or i go bother @bazypitchandsimonsnow and @lifeasafail

Do you outline: sorta!! sometimes ill scribble shit in a notebook or my notes app

Do you take prompts: i used to!!!! but um college drains me of my energy and life force like a BITCH so i haven't written anything since before school started :/ not very cash money at all. i am however taking a slutty gap year and getting a full time job since im finishing my associates degree this year so i want to write LOTS on my year off 😈 will probably open prompts up again

Complete: everything on my ao3!!!

In progress: well ive probably got like 3 or 4 LONG fics that i started and never finished rotting in my google docs rn so im hoping to get to those....at some point. im more excited abt the au ive screamed to @milo-fanarts too much abt 👀👀 there are also some longer anime fics i wanna write too so i guess we'll just have to see 😩😩

a big sexy shoutout to @lifeasafail bc she's not only read and helped me edit like all of my snowbaz writing but is also like the one person who has read almost of ALL of the anime shit i churned out over the summer. girl we need some help that shit was crazy.

idk who's been tagged yet im a mentally ill ghost these days akebjwshd ummm @lifeasafail @makedonsgriva @lotus-of-light @theflyingpeach @adamarks @maddy-does @satsukii and of COURSE anyone whose eyeballs read this. tag me tag me tag me i want 2 see 👁👁

[goose-books]

hello everyone! what if i came up with a fun name for my followers. as if i have a brand instead of 5-10 friends who sort of pay attention to what i’m doing here. goslings. hello goslings. wait i have an oc with the last name gosling. oh well whatever - it’s about time around here for a little status update, isn’t it?

darkling

as of this weekend, i’ve finished the first draft of darkling (trans nd specfic king lear retelling)! only seven acts and almost 200k words. sighs in overwriting.

maybe i’m still riding the high of finishing something, but i would venture to say that this first draft is better than i expected it to be. while i have a formidable list of things to edit, i doubt i’ll have to make major structural revisions… which means i’m hoping to work on said edits and open up beta reading this summer, if not sooner! (my heart says to try for spring break, but my brain says that would be terribly ambitious of me, especially after i’ve existed facedown in this book for a good three months.)

AMT

with darkling drafted, a modern tragedy, the podcast, once again becomes my first priority! (...also a shakespeare retelling. ah, well, we have a brand over here at goose-books dot gov.) more coming about this Soon. (like, within this week soon.)

the other ones

ah, the other ones. [gesturing vaguely at the WIPs piled like sleeping kittens in the corner]

look, i’ve… i’ve learned by now that i can’t really go into any new year stating that i’m going to draft X or Y. as much as i would like to… i do not control the random bursts of inspiration that pin me to my desk and make me write 200k words about my personal reinterpretation of king lear which i have only just read due to quarantine. (just an example. just off the top of my head.) i like to keep my writing goals loose; i like to allow new projects to come and go as they might!

that said, i do have tentative thoughts about my long-running WIPs. currently, TMR (high fantasy with faeries and trans kids) is sitting as a full draft from 2018 (wow). quark (magical nyc, monsters, adhd, prophecy, capitalism bad, etc) is sitting as half a draft from 2019, which i never ended up finishing (oops). and love h (butch4butchhamlet) has yet to be drafted at all.

depending on… what ends up Happening in my life in the next couple of months (this is a cryptic allusion to college application results, which affect my writing plans somewhat), i would like to pick one of these to draft this year! in the event that any of you [gestures at my mostly-nonexistent readership] have opinions / a favorite of those WIPs… [slaps the askbox invitingly]

valentine van velt (holden caulfield goes to exposure therapy) is, as always, my odd WIP out. (”i’m weird,” it says. “have you ever seen me without this stupid second person narration? that’s weird.”) i wrote a full draft of it last year and i don’t really intend to write another; for better or worse it’s a story quite embedded in a specific period in my life. that said, i am also terrified to post it publicly anywhere because of its painfully clear parallels to my real actual irl mental health journey. scream. i’ll also take opinions about this one, for the record [slaps the askbox again]

in other news, by hook or by crook* i will put that short story into the world within the next few months. i refuse to let that thing turn an entire year old rotting in its google doc.

*by acceptance to some kind of magazine/contest or by me just throwing it at this blog with confetti

in conclusion: plans! i heard of em. they’re vague, but i have them! i’m very excited to finally put some stuff into the world this year instead of just promising that i will! i hope you’re all doing well; my dms and askbox are always open! now if you will excuse me i am off to go put on hand cream.

[trashassassin]

Malfunctions (Connor x Reader)

Okay, so, a little backstory on this one. Seeing as this is the first fic I’ve ever actually published and not let rot in google docs, I feel like I owe y’all an explanation. So, I was working on something else, a nice happy, normal fic, when I hit a roadblock. I was tired and nothing was coming to me. So, I decided to take a nap. And during that nap, my brain graced me with this idea in the form of a dream. And if I have to suffer with it, then the rest of you have to also. I’m sorry in advance. I promise not all of my writing will be this depressing. Feel free to correct me if you see any typos because my brain is bad.

Word Count: 2018

Warnings: very sad

It was time for him to admit that something was wrong. This was no longer something that could be written off as a one time glitch that would right itself and then never come up again.

At first, it was little, insignificant things. You’d asked him to pick something up for you from the store on his way home, a small item, like a snack or a tube of toothpaste, and he’d forgotten. It was a distinctly human thing to do, something he’d figured was a normal part of the progression of deviancy.

Humans forgot things all the time, after all.

Granted, he’d never heard of such a thing happening before, but it made sense at the time.

But this theory began to fall apart as he thought about it further. Up until that point, he’d kept your birthday, your friends’ birthdays, all 261 of your online passwords, and at least a thousand addresses of nearby businesses committed to memory.

He’d never forgotten anything, especially not something as simple as what you wanted from the store.

And yet, as he stood on the balcony of your shared home, he’d completely forgotten why he’d come out there in the first place. It certainly wasn’t to contemplate why his mind was falling apart.

You had asked for something. But what was it?

It was fruitless to try and remember. Instead, he simply sighed and pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket upon which he’d written your instructions once he was safely out of your line of sight.

You’d asked him to retrieve the book you’d left on the patio table before it began to rain. Of course! How could he have forgotten something like that? You’d told him…

… not long ago, he was sure.

He grabbed the book from the table and brought it inside just as a mass of dark clouds was starting to roll up in the distance.

You were facing away from him when he made it back to the living room, your attention focused whatever was on the television in front of you. It was a celebrity gossip show, he found as he examined it closer, a genre you were never really fond of.

That much he could remember, at least.

Without a word, he set the book on the coffee table and sat down beside you.

You didn’t look away from the television. You couldn’t. You knew that if you opened your mouth to address what was on your mind, you would break down.

You weren’t even paying attention to what was on the screen. All you had wanted was something, anything, to slow the tide of your racing thoughts so you had a chance, however brief, of straightening them out.

Your hands clenched into fists, gripping tightly to the fabric of your pants as you considered what you were going to say.

“So,” you said, punctuated with a sharp sigh. “You gonna tell me what’s going on with you or are you gonna keep pretending like nothing’s wrong?”

He stared down at your hands, the light on his temple turning from blue to yellow.

“I told you,” he said. “Just a simple malfunction, nothing more. It happens. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s happening every day now.” Your eyes were so focused on the television that it became the only thing you could see as your surroundings whited out around you. “How long should it have taken to retrieve that book? Certainly not fifteen minutes!”

“Are you angry with me?”

You shook your head and closed your eyes in a vain attempt to dam the flow of tears that began to rise to their surface.

“No, Connor, I’m not angry with you,” you said. “I’m scared. I’m so scared.”

Your battle against the tears was futile. You’d been holding them back for days now and they made the executive decision to spill onto your cheeks all at once.

Connor reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, which was finally enough to draw your mind back to the present and your attention back onto him.

“I guess there’s no point in denying it any longer,” he said. “For both of our sakes. I’ve been having problems with my memory.”

“I thought so.” You looked away again. “Look, I don’t want this to come off the wrong way, but maybe it’s time I took you in to a repair shop, just to see if they can’t figure out what’s wrong. It’ll be like me going to the doctor. Nothing to be ashamed of, right?”

He nodded.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he said.

Finally, you’d managed to talk some sense into him. You were well aware of the reason he was so reluctant to ask for help. From the very beginning, he’d always assured you that he was entirely self-sufficient. Admitting that he had a problem he was unable to solve by himself made him feel like a failure.

It made him feel like he was just a machine, and a broken one at that.

To you, however, he was simply sick. Of course, he was unable to get sick in the traditional way that a human could, but that hardly meant that he was immune from the occasional off day that came along with being alive.

But somehow, this didn’t feel like one of his occasional off days.

You tried to push this thought out of your mind as the two of you got into the car and you made your way toward the nearest CyberLife repair shop.

They had become quite commonplace since androids had won the battle for equal rights quite some time ago. As you had explained to Connor many times, they had become like hospitals for androids instead of somewhere to sealed off and analyzed.

Still, you could tell that he was nervous as you exited the car, so you took hold of his hand before making your way toward the sliding entrance doors.

You approached one of the attendants seated behind the reception desk, a kind-looking female android in a white uniform and explained the situation to her. Once she’d heard what you had to say, she directed you toward the waiting area.

You and Connor stayed there for what felt like an eternity but, in reality, was likely a time period closer to twenty minutes.

You were then called back by another woman, a human woman, dressed in a similar uniform with a name tag that read “Morgan”.

She greeted you, a gesture that fell on deaf ears as you gave a canned response, then lead you back to a small room containing a number of gadgets you couldn’t even begin to guess the purpose of.

Although you didn’t understand what was happening, you kept a close eye on every step of the process.

You watched as Morgan put Connor through a series of tests, all of which she assured you were “standard” and “just in case”, and you held his hand through as many as you were able to.

Her face remained stoic throughout the entire process and that made you nervous.

“Well?” you finally asked.

Your heart was racing and your grip on Connor’s hand tightened.

“It was as I suspected,” she said. “His memory unit is starting to wear out. But, other than that, everything appears to be in good working order.”

“So, you can replace it, right?”

She sat down across from you and looked you directly in the eye, a solemn expression on her face.

“Normally, we would be able to,” she said. “But, he’s an older model, so the parts we need are no longer in circulation.”

Your entire body froze as you fully absorbed what she’d said. That was one of the last things you’d wanted to hear.

“So, there’s nothing you can do?” you asked. “Nothing at all?”

“I’m afraid the damage has already been done,” she said. “Even if we were able to repair it, it would be highly likely to malfunction again, if not break altogether.”

You pressed your hand over your mouth, trying your best to hold it together in front of her.

“I’m very sorry,” she said. “I can tell that he is very important to you and I wish I could do more to help.”

“You did all you could,” you said.

Your voice was flat and shaky, entirely devoid of its usual tone.

Without another word, you stood and exited the room, keeping Connor’s hand tightly in yours as you made your way back out to the parking lot.

Neither one of you said anything on the drive back home. You couldn’t speak for him, but you were trying to keep your head clear so that you could concentrate. The last thing you needed was to get into a car accident after the horrible news you’d received.

“Are you alright?” he asked as the two of you stepped inside the house.

Caring about your well-being above his own. How very much like him.

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “You wait here. There’s something I have to do upstairs.”

You turned and ascended the staircase as quickly as your legs would allow. They felt as though they were made of lead, propelling your body forward through quicksand.

You had resolved that, perhaps, if you just had a minute to think, then you would be able to figure out something, anything that would make a difference.

But as soon as you reached your bedroom, your knees gave out and you collapsed onto the floor, the tears you’d been holding in for so long flowing freely now that you no longer felt the pressure of putting on a brave face.

The reality was, there was nothing you or anyone else could do now and, deep down inside, a part of you had known that all along.

Your body was racked with heaving sobs and you hugged your knees to your chest, feeling entirely hopeless all the while.

If his memory had given out, then what was next? How long would it be until he shut down entirely?

You stood up and shook your head, brushing your tears away with the backs of your hands. You wouldn’t allow yourself to wallow alone any longer. If there was ever a time when he needed you, it was now.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself, then headed back down the stairs, only to find him seated at the dining room table, scribbling something furiously with a pen.

You came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he simple pushed whatever he had been writing on in your direction.

It was a square sheet of paper, medium sized, and on it was written your full name, your birthdate, a list of your favorite foods, and a few of the things you liked to do in your spare time. You turned it over and, on the other side, was a picture of you.

You remembered when it was taken. It was your first anniversary and it was quite cold that day, evidenced by the fact that your cheeks and your nose were tinged pink. The two of you had just been to dinner at your favorite restaurant when he pulled out a camera and pointed it at you as you were walking back to the car.

He said that he never wanted to forget how you looked in that moment. And so, he took your picture in spite of your protests that you were tired and cold, and it likely wouldn’t come out that great.

“I never want to forget you,” he said. “But even if I do, you know I’ll always love you, right?”

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears all over again.

“Oh, Connor.” You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in as tight as you could possibly managed. “Of course I know that. No matter what happens to you, I’ll never let myself lose sight of that.”

“You promise?” he asked.

You nodded.

“I promise.”

[wispyatomica]

The Rabbit, The Rat, and the Hog (Chapter 8) - “Who said I was alone?”

Chapter 8 is here and boy is it a long one! Ten pages in Google docs! I hope you all enjoy :D 

“Shall we debrief the mission one more time, Private Chung?”

“No sir. I understand the mission.”  

“Good, I have alerted the Australian authorities, and they will follow behind your path to give the illusion that you are coming alone.”

“Do they not wish to prosecute her as well?” Sumi implied as she messed with the joysticks in her MEKA unit. The pilot adorned a white and red MEKA suit, one with their respective unit logo. Her suit was identical to Hana’s in every way, this was done to keep one MEKA from becoming a target based on a standout color. She could easily view Captain Seo from the video displayed on her MEKA’s HUD.

“No, they are accompanying you to scout the site with you. There have been rumors and sightings of those two international Australian criminals being back in the country.”

Sumi tilted her head slightly as a lift raised her from the frigate storage and onto the ship’s deck. “Jamison Fawkes and Mako Rutledge. International criminals with a $25,000,000 dollar reward on both of their heads. Should you encounter them, assure the capture of the former Private first and then help the Australian officials subdue them. This is of course speculation, but you need to be prepared for everything out there.”

“Roger. I will report back when I have approached the pinged location of her MEKA headset.”

“Understood. Good luck, Private Chung.”

----

“I’m tellin’ ya Roadie, We could be an unstoppable trio if she sticks with us!”

Roadhog grunted in response to Junkrat’s claim. The Junker duo had traveled for a couple of hours before passing by an abandoned gas station after following an old abandoned road. There was absolutely nothing for miles in the dark of night, nothing but the sound of the wind blowing across the desert plains. The air was cool, but not cool enough to cause discomfort in the two barely clothed junkers. The two had years of adapting to the harsh environment of the wasteland.

The gas station was lacking in most of the vital supplies, no doubt already raided by another group of scavengers trying to survive outside of Junkertown. Bottles of broken liquor littered the floor, shredded bags of chips and other junk food scattered the floor. Junkrat moved around the room with ease, inspecting the shelves of the establishment for any remaining food items. On occasion, he would find a few salvageable cans of food.

“Roadie, if she gets that machine built again, we could be unstoppable! Me the brains, you the brawn, and her the…”

He paused for a moment, quite unsure of how to complete the catch phrase. The mech that she piloted made her very strong, but Roadhog would fit the profile of the brawn better than she would. He tapped a mechanical digit to his chin, thinking for a moment,

“She can be the looks, since neither of us are anythin’ good to look at.”

“Speak for yourself.” Roadhog retorted with a snort.

“Hey!”

Roadhog laughed heartily, the insult having the exact effect on his partner that he wanted. He took a backpack of supplies they had found, a few cans of food, a few small bandage rolls, and various tools that were left to rot in the shop out to their chopper, setting them in the sidecar. His mask faced the eastern horizon, he could see the faint edge of blue light on the horizon, it would be dawn soon. The trip back to their hideout was a few hours, and to be out during the day increased their chance of being caught right out.

“Jamison, we need to get back.” He commented gruffly as he re-entered the building, Junkrat stashing a few items of his own in the satchel on his side. “Yeah yeah, I hear ya Roadie.” Firmly planting a hand on the counter, he flipped to the cashier’s side, checking to see if there were any valuables still left. Nothing left. How surprising. The only item hidden on the shelf beneath the counter was a small brown jacket, he tilted his head slightly. “Hmm. That could fit the sheila….it’ll be somethin’ to keep her warm.”  He wasn’t speaking to anybody in particular, grabbing the jacket and tossing it over his shoulder. He stood up from behind the register, looking at Roadhog as he poked his head back inside of the store and motioned outside towards the chopper. Junkrat nodded his head when something caught his attention. Something shiny.

Junkrat held up a finger as he leaned back down. Underneath the jacket was a gold necklace, the chain was nothing too spectacular, but there was a pendant that caught his interest. The pendant was an old gear piece, adorned with a few sparkling green and blue gems on the spikes of the gear. “Oooh, I’ll take that.” Junkrat commented, sticking the piece of jewelry in his satchel quickly. He jumped from around the counter, his peg leg connecting with a few shards of glass.

“C’mon Junkrat, we need to move.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m com- Wait a tic. Listen.” Junkrat stopped all movement and talking, focusing on the silence of the Outback. In the distance, the sound of a vehicle engine could be heard, speeding across the desert.

“Don’t suppose that’s the welcoming committee?” Junkrat joked, as the two moved quickly out of the store and back to the motorcycle, Junkrat sliding into the sidecar. Roadhog started the chopper up in a matter of seconds, revving the engine and peeling out of the gas station’s parking lot. His vision at night time was surprisingly good, so to cover their tracks he kept the light of his chopper off.

“See anything?” He questioned as Junkrat had turned around, looking in all directions for the source of the engine.

“Nah mate, I might’ve been imaginin’ it.”

Roadhog grunted under his mask. Idiot.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of headlights to his left, ones that were heading towards the gas station. Junkrat held his frag launcher in his hands, readying a clip of his grenades should the lights change their course and start to follow them, but the lights stopped at the station and turned off. A sigh leaving his chest as he tossed his frag launcher in the bottom of the sidecar, sitting down aggressively as he crossed his arms. “Well there goes the fun for the night. We coulda stayed a bit longer Roadie, they might’ve had supplies we need.”

“Not worth the risk, Junkrat.”

“Hey, you said that about the last dumb thing I did, and now we got a pretty sheila learnin’ the ropes of being a Junker.”

Roadhog sighed, he wasn’t going to try talking sense into Jamison, as every time he attempted, it failed miserably. He kept his thoughts to himself. She’s in more trouble with us than she knows, it’d be best for her to leave.

The two were silent the remainder of the journey back to base, Junkrat dozing off for a small nap while the light of dawn grew brighter in the eastern sky. They were around an hour out from their base, and things felt different after that close call earlier that night. A light haze covered the desert landscape, it was difficult to see ahead of him. That truck they narrowly missed was just too close; there was something going on in the Outback that night. He kept his eyes fixed on the open road ahead of him, the rocky outcrop still out of his view. Something wasn’t right, he could feel it.

--------

Hana awoke from her nap in the early morning hours, if she had to guess roughly between four and five. A faint blue tint on the horizon of the Outback as the cool night air in the factory greeted her. She looked around the room for a few moments, listening closely to see if Junkrat and Roadhog had returned, but the silence and soft wind wisping through the vacant structure signaled that she was still alone. She stretched her arms over her head, holstering her light gun on her hip as she stepped outside of their loot room resting area.

I wonder if they decided to leave me here forever.

She did her best to shake her negative thoughts from her head, moving from the doorway and down the catwalk to the main factory floor. She had left the LED light on the conveyor belt, giving her just enough light to see. She glanced around the empty room, as peaceful as the silence was, it was too quiet. Perhaps it was the paranoia of her being jumped by a group of Junkers out for her blood that was driving her worry, so she turned off the light on the LED lantern, grabbing the handle as she attempted to move it down to the floor. A glimmer on the wall to her right caught her attention, it was one that made her blood run cold. It was a red pulsating light.

Frantically, she tried to look around to discover the source of the blinking object, only to have the light appear to come from every direction that she looked. “What in the hell…” She spat harshly in Korean, trying to focus even more on the light and how it seemed to move, and it was then that an idea caught her. She removed the MEKA headset she had been wearing up until then, examining it on the right side before flipping it to the left, where a tiny red light was blinking.

Oh. SHIT.

“Hana! Hana are you in there!?” A feminine voice called out, it was one that she easily recognized as her partner from the military.

“Sumi?” She questioned quietly, unsheathing the light gun from her hip and moving towards the exit of the factory door. She was being faced with one of two options, either it was just her friend outside of the building, or the entirety of the South Korean army. She rounded the corner slowly, poking her head outside to see that the former scenario was the case. Fifty yards away from the factory entrance stood the familiar polished black MEKA unit, one identical to the MEKA she had piloted only a few days prior. In front of the suit stood her friend Sumi, adorned in their South Korean issued MEKA suit.

“Oh Hana, thank God you’re alive!” Sumi cried out as she rushed forward, throwing her arms around Hana in a tight embrace, hardly caring for the weapon that she was carrying in her hands. The latter was unsure of how to respond at first, but the sheer emotions of her friend broke her. She wrapped her arms around Sumi in a tight embrace.

“Sumi what are you doing out here?”

“I came to look for you Hana, you have to come back. If you don’t come back now, Captain Seo is going to have you arrested!” She urged, grabbing Hana’s free hand, tugging on it slightly with a sense of panic in her eyes. Sumi knew that the mission was to bring Hana back in cuffs, but maybe if she could get her friend to return with her on her own free will, her life might be spared by the death penalty.

Hana pulled her arm lose of Sumi’s grasp, she spoke to Sumi in their native tongue as it was easier for the two to communicate, since Sumi’s english was not very good. “Sumi, I can’t go back. I don’t think Captain Seo is going to go easy on me after what I’ve done.”

“We have a visual on the target, Private Chung. No sign of Jamison Fawkes or Mako Rutledge in the area either, looks like it was just a rumor. Say the word and we will move in for the assist.”  A voice chimed over Sumi’s headset, one that only she could hear. It was that of the Australian police officers who were positioned just to the south of their position. They were laying in wait for Sumi’s command to move in.

“Hana...What did you do?” Sumi questioned, she knew that the MEKA was forced into a self-destruct sequence, but as to what she was doing in Junkertown and why she needed to use it was still unclear to her. Perhaps the more she knew about the situation, the better Hana’s outlook could be. The conflict on her friend’s face was obvious as she tossed her gun to the ground in frustration, kicking a foot in the dirt as soft whimpers left her throat.

“I stole a MEKA to participate in those illegal Junkertown Mech Fights, alright?!”

“Hana! Why on Earth would you do that!”

“Those mechs were nothing compared to my MEKA! I destroyed them with ease!”

“Life isn’t a video game Hana! Do you even realize what you’ve done!?”

“Of course I do Sumi! I know that I’m gonna be arrested for this and put to death! Why do you think I found a factory in the middle of nowhere to hide!” All of the emotions she had been storing regarding her internal conflict pouring out in sobs as she felt a few tears leave fall down her cheeks. The crisp wind tickling at her cheeks as Sumi moved to her side, her back facing towards the troops to the south as she moved one of her hands behind her, giving the signal to the troops that now was the time to move.

“Hana, if you come with me now, maybe it’s not too late...Please Hana, come back with me.”

She felt her tears cease after hearing those words, the comforting voice of her friend soothing the inner turmoil. Hana looked back to the inside of the factory, hesitating for a moment as she thought about the awkward kindness shown to her by the two international criminal friends of hers. Were they her friends? Maybe. That was something that she would never find out. She nodded her head to Sumi, sniffling and stifling her tears.

“Come on Hana, let’s get you back home and in some real clothes.”

Hana chuckled softly, but that was when the sound finally hit her ears. The silence she had adapted to over the last few days was broken by the sound of feet hitting dirt and rock. She turned her head to her side, wondering if just maybe it was Junkrat and Roadhog, but instead she was greeted with the sight of five Australian police officers pointing assault rifles towards her. She instantly stepped backwards, turning her face over to her friend. The look of betrayal on her face enough to make Sumi’s stomach churn.

“You LIED to me!”

“Hana, please you don’t understand!” Sumi shot back in Korean, waving her arms to the officers to get them to stand down.

“Oh yeah?! Then explain the police here to arrest me! What was that about Captain Seo sparing my life!?”

“Hana please!”

“NO. I’m not going anywhere with you!”  

“Hana don’t make me do this, please!”

The rage took over her body and mind, she felt as if her vision had gone red as she quickly balled a fist and delivered a solid right hook to her former friend’s left cheek. The punch sending her down to the ground and holding her jaw in pain. Sumi looked back up at Hana, who was glaring at her with a rage unlike anything she had seen in her friend before. She gritted her teeth, spitting some blood from her lips. The officers by then had raised their guns at her again, laser sights pointed directly towards her chest, torso, and head.

“Slow down girl, let’s talk this out. Come with us now, and we will see that your Captain knows you cooperated.”

Hana shot a skeptical look to the negotiator as he stared her down from behind the scope of a rifle. She lifted her hands above her head, exposing her open palms to the officers. The adrenaline coursing through her veins as she looked out into the early dawn of the night, and it was then that a sudden headlight caught her attention. A look of surprise crossing her face as she glanced back towards the officers, who had yet to notice the light approaching.

“Now come quietly, Song. You’re outnumbered and the odds aren’t looking good for you.”

“Who said I was alone?” Hana responded with a grin crossing her lips.

Roadhog and Junkrat had just topped the hill with the light of their motorcycle still turned off, the light of the flashlights from the guns illuminating the scene taking place in front of their once perfectly camouflaged hideout.  Junkrat raised a hand to his eyes, furrowing his brows as he tried to clearly see what was going down, and what he saw he didn’t like.

“Oi, that’s D.Va. The suits are after her!” Junkrat shouted out, turning to Roadhog as he grabbed the frag launcher from the bottom of the sidecar. “Hit the gas, Roadie.” The Junker enforcer revved the engine, listening to his partner and turning the headlight of the motorcycle on and heading straight for the scene in front of them. If there was one thing that the two of them hated more than anything, it was suits. It was moments after the words left Hana’s lips that the sound of the engine could be heard approaching, causing all of the officers to turn in its direction, including Sumi. Hana took the time to drop to the ground and roll backwards, retrieving the light gun from the ground. She looked back up just in time to barely see the flaming blonde hair of Junkrat launching himself into the air.

“It’s Junkrat and Roadhog!” One of the officers shouted out, their priorities instantly shifting away from Hana. “Deadly force authorized! Open fire!”

The officers opened fire on the airborne Junkrat as he unloaded a slew of grenades into the path of the officers, causing them to all rush and duck to avoid being blown to bits. Hana had righted herself to her feet by then, moving behind Sumi, who had reeled back behind a wall to keep herself protected. She saw Hana armed with her light gun, moving towards her open MEKA unit.

Fight or flight kicked in, and Sumi aggressively dashed forward, making a dash straight for Hana, tackling her in the stomach with a head butt, sending her straight to the ground. She used the momentum to try to free her hand of the light pistol, only to be met with the butt end of the gun impacting with her temple, causing her to reel back in pain once more. Junkrat landed with a heavy thud on the ground to the right of the MEKA, reloading his frag launcher with grenades as his manic laugh kicked in.

“Now I don’t rightly appreciate you blokes tryin’ ta kill me friend!” Junkrat shouted out, which caused Sumi to look between Junkrat and Hana with complete confusion on her face. Hana too was also surprised by the use of friend in his statement, but it made her smile. A few of the officers poked out of their cover, opening fire on Junkrat as he easily dodged the bullets by hopping behind a rock for cover. Hana used the shock and confusion on Sumi to get the slip, moving one of her legs in a swift motion to propel Sumi off of her body, her body impacting with the ground a few feet away as she righted herself in a fighting stance on her feet. If there was one thing she could thank the military for, it was her hand to hand combat.

Junkrat noticed the maneuver from Hana, very impressed by the quickness of her reflexes, and by the incredible new look that she was sporting. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was one of the Junkers. A firey passion igniting in his belly as he unleashed another round of grenades out from his cover, spraying and praying the field for the officers. It was when one of them had almost gotten a jump on Junkrat, the Roadhog’s signature hook wrapped around the officer’s waist. His body was pulled back several yards in a harsh motion, sending him straight into the barrel of Mako’s scrap gun, where he unleashed a shot and watched as the head of the officer collapsed inwards in a gory mess.

Sumi lifted herself from the ground just in time to see the untimely death of the officer who had been hooked and to see the ominous looming figure of Roadhog glaring her down next. She quickly shifted her gaze towards where Hana was, and instead of seeing her body there, she saw her feet diving into her MEKA suit.

“Override!” Sumi shouted as she tapped on the bracelets on her wrist, only to be met with an error message, as Hana had slammed a fist into the interface that communicated pilot with mech. She propped her arms into the controllers, turning the machine and staring down Sumi, a rage still burning inside of her, until gunfire caught her attention as it was turned towards her mech. The machine turned around to face the officers as Hana activated the Defense Matrix, absorbing their bullets as if it was nothing to her, the officers pausing in shock.

“Light ‘em up!” Junkrat shouted encouragingly, as he unloaded yet another freshly re-loaded round of grenades into the officers. The rage that Sumi had ignited drove her to listen to Junkrat’s words, flicking her fingers down on the joysticks and opening suppressive fire onto the officers. She felt a grin cover her lips as Roadhog moved his attention away from Sumi, stuffing his frag launcher full of shattered and broken metal, opening fire with a suppressive spray of deadly metallic shards flying towards their opponents.

Sumi could only look in horror at what her former friend was doing, it was like she was a completely different person. She did not recognize Hana as a friend anymore, and seeing that she had aligned herself with these two thugs. It was such a shock to her, that the screams of retreat coming from the officers barely reached her ears. The explosions of Junkrat’s grenades, and both his and Roadhog’s murderous laughs sending chills up her spine as one of the injured officers crawled over to Sumi, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her up. She did her best to support him on his injured side, moving quickly to the south as the trio unleashed fire upon them until the sound of car engines could be heard, two of the three vehicles leaving in a hurry. Sumi in tow as she looked in the rear view mirror. How am I going to explain this to Captain Seo? I lost my MEKA to her, and she’s…..she’s a criminal now….

“And stay out!” Junkrat shouted in victory, whooping and hollering as he and Roadhog moved to the side of D.Va’s new MEKA suit. Her breathing was heavy from behind the plexi-glass hull, her breath fogging the glass as the rage in her began to subside, the source of her anger, her former friend was now out of her reach. She removed her hands from the joysticks, smashing the remaining electrical components inside of the MEKA unit. The two junkers watching in confusion before she hit the eject button with her elbow, opening the doors to the MEKA unit as she crawled out of the suit, her boots impacting with the ground harshly. She held a fist to her stomach, her abdomen hurting where Sumi had tackled her.

Junkrat snickered slightly, moving over to her side and placing his mechanical arm on her elbow, leaning against her. She shifted her gaze up towards him as he beamed a proud smile down towards her. “I think it’s safe ta say that you’re a Junker now, darl.” She felt her heart skip a beat as she glanced between Junkrat and Roadhog, both of them looking down on her. She nodded her head, looking off at the dust trail left behind by the escaping vehicles.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Hana spoke in a soft and unsure voice at first, but it changed to one of determination as she looked back at Junkrat, who beamed a smile back down to her.

“Welcome to the pack, darl!”

Hana smiled back up at Junkrat as he eagerly grabbed her by the torso, squeezing her into his arms and spinning her around a few times before quickly dropping her down to the ground. He was covered in sweat from moving around so much, and it caused some of the natural dirt on him to smear on her face. She wiped the dirt into matching points on either cheek, before moving inside and to the old MEKA headset she had kept. She thrust her boot down on the headset in a swift motion, destroying the device in a split second as the Junkers followed her inside of the base. All three of them taking a moment to catch their breath in the main factory floor, and it was surprisingly Roadhog who broke the silence as Junkrat passed his canteen of water to Hana, who eagerly took a giant gulp of water.

“We can’t stay here anymore, they know where we are.”

“Yeah, you’re right, it’s about time we blow this place anyway.”

Roadhog grunted in response, tossing all of his weaponry down to the floor, an audible yawn leaving his chest.

“Get some rest Roadie, we’ll pack up and be outta here by the next sunset.”

Mako nodded his head, moving to the catwalk and heading inside of their rest room. Junkrat turned his attention back towards D.Va, who had finished getting her drink and passed it back to Junkrat. He responded by unhooking the large tire from his back and letting it thud to the ground. He rolled his shoulders for a moment, freeing the tension that had built up as Hana stretched her arms over her head.

“I ain’t gettin’ rest anytime soon, let’s get started on that mech of yers.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a Junker now, D.va! You gotta roll with the Junker style!” He beamed back in excitement, giggling as he motioned for Hana to follow him. She hopped to her feet once more, following Junkrat outside as he patted the mech on the would be thigh of the strangely humanoid robot. “Let’s get a move on, D.Va. Roadie won’t be pleased if we aren’t packed and ready to leave by ‘morrow night.”

“Hana.”

“Wot?” He shot back in response, tilting his head and raising a brow to her as she moved to the still open hull of the MEKA unit.

“My real name is Hana Song.”

Junkrat rubbed a finger against his chin as he looked at Hana for a moment, before bowing his head in an obnoxious manner, waving an arm in a strange circular pattern as he bent over. “Jamison Fawkes, at yer service.” His tone of voice was mocking that of a posh servant in a restaurant or bar, causing Hana to laugh as she jumped inside of the MEKA’s cab, piloting the mech inside of the factory with Junkrat behind her, collecting tools and various metal sheets from around the factory. Hana stopped the mech in the center of the room, hopping out of the cabin and moving over to Junkrat as he tossed a decent sized wrench towards her, which she caught with a quick flick of her wrist.

“Let’s get workin’!” Junkrat beamed, to which Hana responded with a simple chuckle.

“Right behind you, Jamie.” The nickname rolled off of her tongue with ease, and it was something that she had not anticipated him to actually approve of, but instead of shooting her a glare like he had with Roadhog, he offered her a toothy smile, exposing one of his solid gold teeth.

He liked the nickname.