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A month after (begrudgingly) returning to Overwatch, Jack saw someone unexpected in the hallway. Jamison Fawkes. Junkrat. Right, those two Junkers were still with them. Winston had said they could stay 'as long as they needed', and Jack was fairly certain they had nowhere else to go.
Having them around was a little strange - certainly not something that would happen in the old Overwatch - but he wasn’t in charge anymore, so it wasn’t really his problem. As long as they didn’t bug him and didn’t backstab the team, it wasn’t his choice if they were here or not.
He wasn’t exactly a fan of any of the Junkers. Way too much crime and disorder going on there. Still, in the past few decades, he’d discovered that there were many people that were way worse than any Junker could be. If they wanted to tear each other apart, he’d leave them to it. Not on his radar.
The bigger one was fine. Kept to himself, and Jack hadn’t seen any need to start conversation, so he hadn’t learned much personal information about him. The kid…well, he was quite the opposite. Loud, energetic, and not the best with social graces. Of course, socializing wasn’t exactly Jack’s strong suit, either, so he tried to keep his judgment to himself about that. The noise both his explosives and his mouth made had turned Jack off very quickly, so he hadn't spoken more than a few words to him. When Junkrat tried, Jack would give him the typical one-word responses, his universal language for 'go away'.
At the moment, though, Junkrat wasn’t being loud at all. Combined with the way his head was hunched over, it made Jack wonder if something was wrong.
Don’t do it. Keep the hero bullshit down for once. You don’t need to save everyone.
“Hey, kid. You good?”
God damn it.
When Junkrat turned around, a brief moment of panic passed across his face. It was quickly replaced by the typical, crooked grin. “Just fine!” He said.
Jack was unimpressed. As a professional at hiding his feelings, he could’ve read that one from a mile away. “Cut the crap. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He could see Junkrat’s fake smile fall away. Was he not used to being called out on that?
“Well, sometimes I feel like I just don’t fit in, you know?” He said; his tone was still relatively lighthearted, but Jack knew very well that nobody went out of their way to fake a smile if something wasn’t wrong.
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Did you blow something up again?” It wasn’t meant as an accusation, but he knew it still sounded like one. Already fucking this one up.
“Well, yes…but that’s just what I do! It’s what I love!” He said.
A part of Jack wanted to say the obvious – ‘that’s a destructive hobby, of course it’s going to bother people, just stop fucking around and cut it out’ – but he suspected that it wasn’t so easy for Junkrat. It’s not as if he hadn’t been told to stop plenty of times, and that hadn’t exactly gotten them far. By now, it was clear that fighting him on it was a waste of time. Sure, it may have sounded ridiculous, but if he genuinely felt so strongly about it, all of the logic in the world wasn’t going to change it.
Well, if ‘just stop’ wasn’t an option, they could try another way.
“Alright. Tell you what. If you can’t stop with the explosions, maybe you can try to do them in a more constructive way than just blowing everyone’s shit up. Follow me.”
He motioned down the hallway. The kid followed him dutifully, and Jack wasn’t entirely sure if Junkrat was being respectful or mocking him.
Damn kids…
A few moments later, they headed out the back door of the base, and ended up in an open field. Only three things were visible - a shed, and two doghouses, on opposite sides of the field.
Even before Overwatch fell, this had been Jack’s private spot anytime he went to the Gibraltar base. He had one for every base he had lived on full-time. With a job as demanding as Strike Commander, he always needed a place he could disappear to and take a breath. One of the little things he did to stay semi-sane.
In this particular spot, the shed provided both a workspace and a way to escape from everyone. He wasn’t going to let Junkrat in the shed itself yet - one, because it was his private space, and two, because it was full of power tools, which he didn’t trust in the hands of people he didn’t know well.
“I do woodwork here. Good for stress relief,” Jack said, gesturing towards the shed.
Working with his hands had always helped Jack clear his mind. Menial labor didn’t involve complicated emotional concepts or messy relationships. It was just between him and the structure he was trying to build. A way to be productive, but not have to think about anything too complex.
When he looked back at Junkrat, he was surprised by the way the kid looked genuinely excited. “I do too! You know, I built this meself,” he said, pointing to his wooden leg with pride.
Jack looked down at his leg, and realized something. Although Jack initially thought that it was just a wooden stump that was clumsily attached, there were actually several structures on it, and it was fully secure. It was definitely more complex than it looked on first glance, and figuring out how to engineer that entirely by himself was quite a feat. He wondered if Junkrat made all of his weapons by himself, as well.
Jack had always suspected that Junkrat was smarter than he let on, and this confirmed it. Interesting.
Jack eyed him thoughtfully, crossing his arms. “Anyway, I brought you here for a reason.” He noticed Junkrat move closer and nod expectantly. “If you’re gonna blow things up, this might be a better outlet.” He pointed to the doghouse on the left. It was shabbier, with small breaks and chips in the wood. He had built it for Vivian and Murphy last year as a 'Sorry for pretending to be dead' gift, but last week, he had finished construction on a new and improved one. He cringed at the craftsmanship of the older doghouse - he had definitely improved over time. “Taking apart the old shit that I built is really inconvenient.” He gave Junkrat a wry grin. “You know what they do about that in construction?”
Junkrat’s eyes widened. “Demolition!” He was excited to the point that he visibly shivered.
Jack remembered when he used to earnestly enjoy things to that extent. He couldn’t help but feel some form of fondness when he saw the younger ones have that feeling.
Ugh, he felt like a corny old man.
“Not just this, either. I got a whole backlog of old stuff that is just laying around, collecting dust. Need something to clear it up, and I got no time to do it.” Upon returning to this base, he had noticed that no one had gotten rid of his old junk from before his faked death. At the time, he had felt annoyed for a moment, but immediately realized that it was probably for sentimental reasons, and that he’d do exactly the same thing.
Junkrat looked at him as if he’d just won the lottery. “You mean it?” Jack nodded. Junkrat stiffened himself, giving a salute. “I’d be happy to do that for you, sir!”
Jack cringed at the title. Even if Junkrat was just fucking around, that brought up memories that he didn’t want anything to do with. “No need for ‘sir’. I’m not in charge here.”
“What can I call you, then? Hm…” With the way Junkrat put his fingers on his chin, Jack wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. “I’ll stick with ‘Gramps’. Captures your energy just right!”
Jack rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue about it. He wanted to say something along the lines of ‘I’m not even 60 yet’, but he knew it wasn’t worth it. That was definitely the entire reason, and it had absolutely nothing to do with not wanting to make the kid feel bad while he was having fun. He wouldn’t ever care about something as insignificant as that. No way.
Junkrat left to get one of his explosives, and was back moments later. Jack wondered if he’d been storing some just for an opportunity like this one, and hoped he hadn’t made a terrible mistake.
Junkrat rushed to the older doghouse. After a few seconds, he returned to Jack, who was standing as far away from it as possible. He was still worried that this kid was going to blow up the entire region. Sure, he seemed to have plenty of experience, but he was also a bit of renegade - Jack doubted he’d do it on accident, but could he be certain that Junkrat wouldn’t do it on purpose?
The explosives he’d placed were so small that Jack could only faintly see them from this distance, but he wasn’t foolish enough to think that meant much. A tiny device could hold massive amounts of power, especially in this day and age.
Junkrat looked directly at him, waiting for a confirmation. Putting aside his misgivings, Jack nodded once, and Junkrat pressed a button. Jack’s whole body tensed…
…And the explosion was fairly small. Just enough to destroy the doghouse, and basically nothing else. Even most of the grass in the area was still intact. That must have taken a lot of precision.
Junkrat laughed and cheered, and the joy in his eyes was unmistakable. The kid wasn’t lying. This really was what he loved to do. Jack was starting to suspect that this was some kind of unusual creative outlet for him. To be fair to him, there was a sort of beauty in his craft. The ability to tightly control something as destructive as an explosion. As much as Jack hated to admit it, he’d feel guilty if he had to take that away from him. Stupid sentimentality. He swore that the more time he spent here, the softer he was becoming.
“Good job not blowing up the whole base,” Jack said. It was the closest thing to praise that he could get out this easily.
Junkrat gave him a huge grin, even at that minor compliment. He noticed the kid stand up a little straighter - Christ, he was a lot taller than Jack realized. “You got nothing to worry about with me, Gramps. I’m an expert,” he said, with a thumbs up.
Jack hummed. “Well, if that’s true, I got a deal for you. If you don’t blow up anyone’s stuff on this base from now on, I’ll let you do whatever you want with the old things I built and don’t use. I’ll put them all in this field, and you can take them out with any kind of explosion you can think of, as long as it doesn’t damage the base or my shed.” He stuck his hand out to shake on it. “What do you say?”
Junkrat grabbed onto his hand with both arms, shaking it with incredible enthusiasm. “Cheers! You won’t regret this.”
Jack glared sternly. “I better not. I’ll be watching you.” He hoped that he was still able to be some level of intimidating. Between Cassidy, Lena, and Ana, he’d been feeling like everyone could see through his bravado now - he certainly didn’t want to add this kid to that list.
Junkrat laughed again, a manic and loud sound that may have been creepy if it came from anyone other than this kid. Rationally, Jack knew that Junkrat could easily destroy this area and kill them all if he wanted to…but his presence was basically the opposite of intimidating. Just too damn lighthearted.
Maybe Jack could use someone like that every once in a while.