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funkymeihem-fiction · 6 years

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He Don’t Mean It- Chapter 10

It had been almost a week, now. Ana and Zarya had ‘escorted’ him to one of the smaller and less-used clinics on the base, little more than a triage station for when this place had been bustling with agents. Now it was dusty and lonely inside, with a few beds and some decrepit equipment locked away. Perfect for someone like him. Ana had stayed there with him, letting him know when Mei had returned with Junkrat in tow, and the two were being tended to by Dr. Ziegler. Zarya had been sent off to be dealt with by a rather irked-looking 76, much to her chagrin…and after that, it had been surprisingly quiet.

As far as jails went, this one ranked up near the top of the ones he had been confined to. He watched television, read, and helped Ana with her knitting when she dropped by. Without Junkrat’s incessant chatter, it was almost like a vacation. It was rather nice. Although after another day or two of sitting in the clinic and finishing his books and eating his meals alone and listening to the drone of daytime TV, he started to become tired of things. Luckily, that was when he had been let out of the clinic and accompanied to some of the meeting areas in the main base, and sat down in an office where he was required to meet with some other headcase doctor to evaluate him.

Roadhog had broken two chairs, so they had had to bring in a sofa for him. He’d broken that too. But he didn’t tell them that, just sitting atop the cushions and broken wooden slats, slightly sunk into the furniture. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, when they had assigned Dr. White to come in and visit him. He was fairly sure that Dr. White wasn’t her real name, although that’s what Dr. Ziegler had said to call her. She had been a colleague of hers from a different time and came highly recommended. He had expected someone a little like Dr. Ziegler herself; kind but clinical, wearing white coats, the kind of ‘therapist’ who sat across the room with a little clipboard and wrote down all their little judgments on his behavior.

Instead, Dr. White had what he was pretty sure was an Iranian accent, was a rather portly older woman with frizzy hair who dressed in loose blouses and shawls and hoop skirts, wore a necklace that was probably some sort of healing crystal, and had told him about her twelve cats. Hog thought that twelve cats was far too many cats for anyone to have, but had said nothing. Instead, she had laughed and said that she already knew that twelve cats was too many, but she loved them all, even the mean ones, too much to ever give them up.

After a few sessions with her, and puzzling why they had entrusted something like a supposed PTSD case to such a loon, he began to get a notion of why they had chosen her. As bonkers as she was, she could talk to him. And she could get him to talk. She was more like an Ana than a Dr. Ziegler, and would patiently wait on his answers but still expect those answers to be given. And she meant it. Their first session, he had tried to stonewall her and remain silent for almost everything at first, and their session had lasted for over four hours until she got what she felt she needed to get started.

Stranger still, she never asked him about his past in detail. Never asked about his mask or his refusal to show his face. Maybe she had read Overwatch’s files on him, whatever they had, or perhaps she had been warned not to broach the subject. She didn’t ask about the Omnium, or his wife and his daughter, or any of his many victims. Instead she asked about what it was that he saw when he woke up in the dark. What kinds of sounds he heard, what kinds of things he thought they said? What did he plan to do to them? Kill them or just hurt them? Did he think that they deserved to be hurt or killed? Were they faces of anyone he knew, or just unknown blurs?

She also asked about Junkrat. What was their relationship like? How long had they been traveling together? When Hog got angry at him, what did he do to relieve that anger? Did Junkrat and him share chores? What was Junkrat’s favorite food and did they eat together often? And what about Mei? How was the relationship between the three of them? Who was Zarya and how was their relationship after fighting one another?

Over the days, the questions kept coming. Sometimes he answered them. Other times he didn’t. But he always thought about them. Sometimes he even told Dr. White things that she didn’t ask about. How Junkrat was afraid of shrimp, or how sometimes he cried in his sleep but never when he was awake, or how Junkrat lied so much that he couldn’t even believe himself anymore. Sometimes he tried just telling Dr. White what he thought she wanted to hear, and she would just nod and continue, even though she seemed to know he was lying too. And she never wrote anything down.

She was sitting across from him now, in a borrowed office chair, one leg crossed over the other and smiling that rather batty smile. Hog sat on his broken couch, enormous hands folded in his lap.

“So, Roadhog,” she said, using his new name after he had told her that he preferred it. “You know the drill. How are you feeling? Anything giving you trouble?”

“No.”

“Anything you want to ask?”

“…How is Pookie?”

She laughed. “Pookie is fine. I didn’t even need to take her to the vet after all, do you know what it was? A hairball. A giant, horrible hairball. I found it on the floor yesterday morning and there she was, eating out of her bowl two feet away like it was nothing.”

“…Heh. Good.”

“I’m quite relieved, yes. So, I know I cleared you to be able to return to your room and you’ll soon be cleared for active missions for now, so long as you continue attending our sessions. How did everything go?”

He thought for a long while, and she let him. Finally he said, “I saw Mei. In a hallway.”

“How was she?”

“She was scared. At first. She did most of the talking, left quickly. But said she was glad to hear I’m still here…” He trailed off again before adding. “-She has a little scar.”

“Did you tell her that you were sorry?”

“…No.”

He expected chagrin, but she just nodded and asked, “But you noticed the scar? You looked for it, the one you gave her?”

“Yeah.”

“What about Junkrat, has he been in his room in your garage?”

“No. All his stuff is gone…No. He left some trash for me to clean up,” Hog sighed. “But he’s gone. Ana said he’s been sleeping on his sofa in his lab.”

“Have you thought about what you might say once you see him again?”

“…No.”

That wasn’t entirely true. After he had been released from the medical ward, he had tried to find Junkrat, but had only found a torn-apart room and piles of garbage where the younger scavenger had made off with what was his…and a few things that weren’t his, too. Even after he had found out his employer was staying in his lab, he didn’t go there. Instead he meandered around the base, trying to ‘run into him’. But Junkrat was slippery, always had been. Every time Hog thought he finally saw him, he was already gone again, and made it clear that he did not want to be ‘run into’ at all.

Dr. White sat with him for a while longer, asking questions and filling the void when he remained quiet. This time she asked him about his feelings on some of their missions and if he was ever ‘back’ in those places. He denied that part, but didn’t tell her that he was always back in the same place. Always waking up back beneath that burnt-out farmhouse, listening for the vermin that were here to take his things or disturb the tomb above him. That every time he would get up and go to…dispose of them, the way vermin should be disposed of.

But often times, he caught the wrong kind of rat.

***

Dr. White had noticed that he liked patches, so she had bought him a (honestly, rather poorly done) patch of a smiling white kitty cat that looked like one of her own. Hog liked pigs more than cats, but he decided to put it on anyway, although maybe off to the side of the others. And although he normally wasn’t as fond of ‘talkers’, he certainly seemed to keep in company with a lot of them. Dr. White was definitely a talker, and it had been well over an hour with her talking, and he left the little room feeling a little worn down.

Outside, in the hallway, Zarya was sitting in a chair with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. Upon hearing the massive junker approach, she opened one eye and then the other, looking up at him. “Hey.”

He rumbled a greeting and looked back as the door opened and shut again, Dr. White rushing past them in a rustle of skirts and shawls and cat hair, wishing them both a good afternoon.

Zarya snorted a little chuckle and looked amused. “Ah, they give you the cat lady? Dr. White?”

“…She’s all right.”

“She is not what I expected…More like crazy aunt than doctor, da? A little too…ugh, what is word? Sensitive? Feely? Always with the ‘Zarya, it is okay to cry. You are safe. Zarya, you are in a place where you can cry’…”

Hog tilted his head to look at her through one lens. “Did you cry?”

Those green eyes shot him a nasty little look and she didn’t answer, which was fine. He hadn’t been answering some questions lately, either, just more than he’d expected.

So he shrugged and stepped aside as if expecting her to get up and try to squeeze past him. “Here for an appointment?”

“Actually, no,” she said, patting both hands impatiently on her knees. “I was waiting out here for you.”

“Mm?”

“I do not know about you, Mako Rutledge, but I get itchy with all their questioning and prodding and baaah!” She waved a hand impatiently, nails newly painted pink where before they had been chipped from their fight earlier. “And they say you have been in that clinic for days. You must be tired of watching bad tv by now. I was thinking, you come train with me? I will spot you for the weights, I want to see what you can do.”

He turned his head the other way. “With me?”

“Da. Now you are thinking, ‘But Aleksandra, it was not a good time, what happened. And then the kissing, it was bad, and awkward and…not right…’ Er, that is what you are thinking?” She rubbed one arm uneasily, looking down. “And you are right, it was. But I do not want to leave it there, us being bad and awkward together. So I am thinking…we pick it up, we move on with it?”

“Mm?”

“I am not the right person to talk to about what happens when you forget where you are. But I…know a little about it. And I know that I am not very good at listening, sometimes, but if you wish to talk, I will try to listen. If that is what you want.”

“Mm.”

“Because we are strong, Mako Rutledge, we should be strong enough to move on. For now, I thought…maybe we will work out together? Maybe we can talk, even though you do not talk so much. And I will not…” She looked a little sheepish again. “I will not shame myself with my actions again. It will just be lifting weights and talking. I just wish to know you more, without us both being covered in blood or fighting, da? Er, you do not have to say yes to me. But we can try to start again?”

He lowered his gaze behind his mask, thinking. But he did not have to think long. Maybe he really was tired of being trapped in the clinic and watching shitty daytime tv. Maybe he could use a workout. Or, maybe he wanted to specifically workout with her in particular.

It was like she said. It had gotten awkward and he hadn’t been ready for such things. Not with his mind in shambles and ghosts in the corners of his vision. But perhaps if he was focused on the weights and her simple company, it would be better. He liked her, and even if they were fighting their own battles, it had been too long since he’d felt companionship with anyone else…Anyone else except Junkrat, anyway, and the boy was still nowhere to be found. But she was here, and asking him to try again with her.

Cutting through the bullshit, that’s what he liked about Zarya. She asked him a simple question, and he would answer.

“Yeah.”

Her expression brightened, and she stood from her chair, cocking both arms to her hips. “Yes, good! That makes me happy! You are a very interesting one. I will tell Athena to clear the gym for us. Very exciting, we will get out the heaviest sets. I am challenging the great Mako Rutledge again, I can bench more than him. I bet that-” She blinked, clamping her mouth shut quickly. “Er…Sorry, no bets this time. Heh, just a friendly challenge, I assure you.”

He smirked, grinding in a loud breath through the mask filters. “...Overconfident. You’re on.”

She smiled at him, in a genuine way. “I am glad.”

“Mm.”

“Hah! Yes! I am glad! Let me take care of a few things and change. I well see you in the gym in…how about an hour? The Frog Man has a new album to put on, very good for these things. I have a new outfit, you will enjoy its color, just as I do! I will also bring protein drinks! Time to work up a sweat, this will be very good training!”

Hog groaned a bit under his breath, watching her flex and pose as if forgetting she was even in front of him. It seemed Zaryanova’s enthusiasm had overridden any awkwardness between them, and he couldn’t help but be glad of it. He might be thinking differently in an hour, of course, if she was yelling at him to do leg lifts or carry medicine balls or whatever the hell. Crazy woman.

He liked her.

With a nod, he lifted a hand in farewell. “Yeah. See you in an hour.”

Bidding farewell to his new Russian exercise comrade, he started off back towards his room, but paused and headed off down a different hall when he felt an urgent calling deep in his gut. He’d been in that office for a few hours and was past due for a piss. Ducking into the men’s room, he hiked his mask up to rest atop his head, fumbling with the zipper to his trousers.

He heard the door open behind him, but paid it little mind. They would leave. They always left, when they saw him inside. So he merely waited for them to exit and for the door to slam shut again. Because nobody had ever been stupid enough to interrupt Hog when he was tending to his hog.

“Oi!”

Or, there was one person…

Very slowly, he turned his head just enough to see Junkrat standing in the doorway, hands on his hips and jaw jutting forward in a rather ugly scowl. Bushy brows lowered and yellow eyes narrowed, and the younger junker stared him down.

“Welly welly well well, if ain’t me best mate,” he said, voice dripping with an uncustomary sarcasm. “Guess they finally let you loose in the paddock, eh? Well, you got a bone to pick with yours truly. You n’ I gotta have a discussion, we do!”

Hog glanced down at himself, around at the tiny bathroom, then back to Junkrat in a rather disgruntled manner. “…Right now?”

“Of course right now! What kind of stupid arse question is that? You got a better bloody time to do it?”

Hog sighed and zipped up his pants. Rounding to face his once-employer, he found Rat staring at him in a very expectant way. He waited- waited for the barrage of insults and demands and words that was sure to come spewing forth. But for once, they didn’t. Rat was just staring. And for one of the very first times that he could remember, Hog felt suddenly unnerved by the silence. Rat was supposed to be talking. Rat was always the one talking.

Junkrat tilted his wild head one way, then the other. Eventually his impatience got the better of him, but even then he gestured at Hog as if demanding him to speak instead. “Well?!”

“…Well?” Hog replied.

That was the wrong answer. Rat’s balled fist landed squarely against his gut, wobbling through the layers of fat and muscle beneath. Stupid kid had never figured out that gut punches didn’t work on someone like Hog. Probably something he’d picked up in the back alleys of Junkertown, aimed to wind his opponents while he made a quick escape. The first punch had no real effect, and neither did the second, when his other fist swung forward with a force that sunk into Hog’s belly with a muffled thump.

“Fuck you! Ya great fat bastard, ya! Ruined everything! Don’t even care!”

“Rat,” Hog said, voice low with warning as he grabbed the boy’s fist out of the air the next time he swung at him…and then the other, when he tried to punch him yet again.

The younger junker twisted like a greased weasel in his grip, enough that Hog physically had to lift him upward to keep him at bay. And even then, it only earned him being kicked with a boot and a peg leg instead of with fists. It was starting to get annoying.

“Stop that.”

“Mei says I should talk to ya, so I did! Ya know why? ‘Cos she’s got a sweet and tender and fuzzy little heart, she does. Tried to tell her you’re not the sort what talks things out.” Rat flailed a boot and whomped him solidly in the ribs again. “But she said to try anyway, because she’s the best person in the world. Gave you a chance, I just did, and you didn’t even do anything with it!”

Hog stumbled back when a particularly vicious thrash threw him off balance. Behind him, something dented and then snapped, and there was a hissing noise and freezing cold water was spraying him in the back of the head. Apparently he had just broken the sink. Taking the opportunity, he whirled around and thrust Junkrat face-first right into the broken water jet. Maybe that would cool the boy’s temper.

“Rat!”

“WHHAHAWRGARBL!”

The now sopping rodent squirmed out of his grasp all at once, sliding to the opposite end of the room and glaring at him like an angry wet animal, back arched and eyes narrowed. Spitting water and flecks of foam from his lips, he faced down his much larger once-bodyguard, still bristling and aggressive.

“S’posed to protect me…my arse, ya shite excuse for a bodyguard. Let ya near kill me, all those times. Knew ya didn’t mean it, let it happen. That’s on me. But then ya hurt what’s mine. The…The one person in the world that I have, who never-!” Rat’s voice cracked, choking on his own words. He swallowed with a throaty noise and tried again. “Maybe I deserved it, but she damn sure doesn’t. And I was fuckin’ stupid enough to almost let it go, to let you ruin it all! Oughta kill you myself, I should!”

Roadhog was, as usual, silent for a long while. There was nothing but Junkrat’s labored, hissing breathing, and the gurgle of the broken pipes leaking water around their boots.

Finally he decided on what he wished to say. “…You and her all right?”

“Like you give a damn?!”

“…Yeah.”

Rat snorted water out of one nostril, wiping his dripping chin with his forearm. “Yeh. Eventually. Me and her got into it a bit at the bus station, but phwaw, the rest of that evening was a real to-do. Not in a good way, mind. Lots of yelling and crying and arguing and it all got a bit thick for my tastes, really.”

“Mm?”

“But yeh, think we’re all right. Getting better, I think. I hope. Getting sick of sleepin’ on that little couch in the lab, puts a real crick in the neck,” Rat grunted and popped his spine loudly for emphasis, the result of cramming himself on a too-small sofa for too many nights already. “Pillow’s no good, either. Makes me miss those tits- softest things in the world, got real spoiled by those tits. Can’t wait to burrow back in ‘em and never come up for air. Hope things get back to normal soon.”

“Hm…” Roadhog rumbled, that uneasy feeling returning. Not really about Mei’s tits, no, but his words. ‘Back to normal’. Junkrat had a new normal, and that normal was here, not tearing off back into the desert, after the man who had almost killed him. Even if the boy didn’t realize it himself, ‘back to normal’ included Overwatch, and Mei, and being here.

“Still can’t believe you went behind my back and fucked the big Russian dag after she just showed up in the middle of the bloody night in her trackie daks. Or have ya been fucking her this whole time, in secret? Can’t believe you’d-”

“Didn’t fuck her,” Hog frowned. “It’s not like that.”

“Saw you all up on each other, I did! Don’t deny it!”

Rat turned and looked for something to throw, settling on the only thing in the room- a roll of toilet paper on the wall nearby- before snatching it up and pitching it at the pig-masked man with all his strength. The cushiony roll of paper puffed gently against Roadhog’s shoulder before rolling down into the puddles below. Roadhog looked down at it, watching the white turn dark and wet as the moisture traveled up the paper.

“We didn’t do that,” he said.

“Guess she’d probably by one of the only ones here you could fuck, actually. Ya know, without killing ‘em,” Rat said, suddenly going from aggressive to thoughtful in one breath. “Mighta peeked in on her once or twice in the gym, on accident. Blimey, those legs- bet she could crush a watermelon with her thighs and barely notice it. Would ya eat watermelon from between her thighs, Roadie?”

“Rat…”

“What was I saying, again? Right, I was pissed at you, battering your own best mate and then going to run off with a lady instead of with me! Fuck you, Hog!”

Hog slumped his head forward wearily into his palm, massaging between his eyes. Arguing circles with Junkrat was a fool’s errand. Little wonder he bothered with it so rarely. If things weren’t in such dire straits, he wouldn’t have even tried. He shifted slightly, boots slopping in the growing mess of water and soggy toilet paper on the tiles below.

“I’m not leaving,” he finally said. “Thought about it. Decided not to.”

The younger junker tilted his head at that. “S’that so? Is that your decision, or did they tell ya not to? They reprogramming your brain?”

“No. Decided to stay. Here’s as good a place as any.”

“Mei said you’re getting therapy’d. She says a lot of folks do it. She’s done it too. Is it like in the shows? D’you lay down on a couch and cry and tell ‘em about your tragic past and then it all gets better?”

Hog thought of Dr. White and her many cats, and how she’d not asked him any such things, and how things had not gotten all better. “No.”

“D’you think I should get therapy’d?”

“Do you want to.”

“I dunno.”

The two junkers stared at one another. Junkrat muttered darkly to himself, lips screwing to one side as he gave Hog a look of very hard judgment.

“Is it going to make you stop beatin’ me up?” he asked. “Dunno if I trust all that fuddling around in people’s brainmeat, but if it can make you stop? Guess you don’t really remember what it’s like when you go bonkers, Roadie- but it’s a bit unnerving. It’s like you’re not my mate at all, just another drongo trying to kill me, like all the rest. Wish I coulda stopped it. Even if it’s not really you. Even if I know you don’t mean it.”

Ragged patches of yellow hair drooped wetly across Rat’s features, doing nothing for his looks. With another sputtering noise, he sniffed noisily and wiped a hand wetly down his face and slung away the droplets. He seemed to be in thought, as the pipes continued gurgling around them. Finally he turned on Hog once more. “Don’t wanna have to do any more of that ‘sorry’ stuff, though. Not like with Mei. Know she’s into that, but I don’t get it. Ugh, so don’t start apologizin’ at me, think that would just give me the skeevies. Feels weird, doesn’t it? All the ‘sorries’ folks use around here?”

At least that was something they could still agree on. Hog nodded. “Yeah.”

“Right?! Don’t tell Mei I said that, mind you. Although she’s doing better, with the whole…’me’…thing,” Rat said, rubbing the back of his head and causing one spike of hair to stick up strangely on the side. “Still getting used to this bit, when the arguing is for real. Guess it’s just part of having my own girl, d’you think? S’not like fighting with you. Less bruises, for one. But I think it’s a little the same? Maybe? I know she don’t mean it, either.”

Hog didn’t entirely know what to say, so said nothing. And that worked, since Rat was mercifully back to doing the talking.

“Getting used to there being so many bloody rules here. If it’s not Overwatch’s rules, it’s Mei’s rules, or Nan’s rules, or things they keep sayin’ like I’m supposed to already know it for some reason. Junkrat, don’t do that. Junkrat, you can’t do that in public. Junkrat, that’s not a toilet…Blimey, it’s not like I ain’t been trying? Guess Mei thought I was just supposed to be better by now. Guess I thought maybe you’d get better too. Heh. Turns out we’re all fucking idiots!”

“…”

“Then the Russian got involved, and well, I think it’s pretty clear where us two stand on our opinions of each other, eh? Then everything just exploded. Not in a way I like, not a good one. More like a building! Like everything just came all toppling down and there I am on the bottom floor, watching it all coming at me. Might have just been my bell still ringing from you locking me down and wailing on my face for a good few. Cracked a few face bones, the doc said!” He pointed to his cheek and orbital bone. “Gotta say, those were some prime good hits! Would be impressive if it wasn’t my face.”

Hog frowned.

“Gotta learn better aim, mate. Oh! I meant to ask you a thing?”

“Mm.”

“When you’re gone in the head, am I still me? You said that it’s not that, but how I can I be sure? Is it ‘cause of something I did? I’ve done lots of things. Can’t remember some of ‘em, but maybe it’s because of one of those?”

Roadhog shook his head slowly. “No. You’re not…you. Don’t know who you are. Don’t know who anybody is.”

“Huh. Guess that’s a little better, somehow. Mei said it’s no excuse, but it’s better. I always knew ya didn’t mean it. But I still wish ya wouldn’t do it at all,” Rat said, scratching at one tooth with his fingernail. “You should try harder.”

“Mm.”

“Still pissed, of course! Mostly at you, can’t really stay mad at Mei for long. Fuck, you really can’t stay mad at her. She looks up at you with those big brown eyes of hers, and they got little tears in ‘em, and… Blimey, it’s like getting mad at a puppy dog, or a panda. She’s not really like a panda, though. Because I read somewheres that pandas don’t even know how to fuck right, like they got to watch porn videos just to learn how to do it? That’s a real funny image, actually, heh! Heheheh! D’you think the pandas in the porn vids ever-”

“Rat.”

The younger junker blinked, going a little cross-eyed as his brain struggled to uncross whatever wires had tangled together in that skull of his. He shook his head quickly, jostling it clear. “Right, right, so, back on topic. Thought about this a lot. I’m docking points off your paycheck, for trying to kill me and all. Plus damages for wrecking the place, and nearly murdering my girlfriend. I uh…I might be persuaded to give you a little bonus for brawling with the Russian, that was a top show. But oof, these numbers! Real hefty! But I guess that’s just what ya owe me for all this nonsense.”

“That’s fair.”

“And if ya do it again…I ain’t gonna sit idly by. Not anymore. No more chances, mate.”

“Mmh,” Roadhog said. He could agree with that.

“Movin’ into the garage on the opposite side, by the by. Nan says I could stay in the main dorms, but eugh…don’t like that computer lady spying on me while I’m trying to take a shit, you know? Anyways, I already threw out all your stuff in that garage outside, out because I’m movin’ in there. Use my old room for whatever.”

“All right.”

Rat looked down at where the water was starting to bubble up and soak his single boot. “Also we’ve sort of fucked up the bathroom here, uh…Well, we’ve made some real strides, haven’t we! Maybe I’ll see ya round!”

Before Hog could move to stop him, the door had been pushed open and the young bomber had made his escape. With his peg nearly slipping on the flooded floors and leaving behind a trail with a single wet bootprint, Junkrat had turned the corner and was already gone. Hog was left rather befuddled, looking around at the broken porcelain and pipes and floating paper slog around him. For several long minutes he just stood there, even though the flood grew worse and he heard the faint drawl of McCree’s “What in tarnation?!” outside.

What an unfamiliar predicament, to be left wanting. For the first time in a very long while, Roadhog had had more to say.

But it was as Junkrat had said- maybe he’d see him around. At least there’d be a next time.

Even if he still wasn’t sure he deserved it, there would be a next time.

The door creaked open again, as the cowboy looked inside warily, around the completely ruined bathroom and the gigantic pig-masked man standing forlornly within. Guffawing around his cigar, he gestured his mechanical arm around the wreckage. “What the hell happened in here?”

Hog shrugged.

***

“…Do I even want to know why you’re soaking wet?” Mei leaned in her doorway and scrunched her nose, looking the sodden junker up and down. “Is that toilet paper stuck on your peg? Jamison, what-”

“Had a bit of a bingle in the boy’s room, if you must know! Hoggie was in there, down near the med offices. Guess you were right about him getting therapy’d. Figured it was good a time as any, so we had a discussion, him and me.” Junkrat looked down to the wet paper speared on his peg, lifting up on one foot and desperately trying to shake it off. It slopped wetly to and fro and didn’t even rip, which left him rather impressed. “Bloody hell, they got the good kind. The kind what’s not even half off at the penny saver. What is this, the quilted stuff?”

Mei did not seem as interested in toilet paper brands as he was. “You saw Mr. Roadhog? How did it go? I know I said that it’s okay to be mad, but I think it’s really good that he’s staying and he’s trying to keep to his new schedule so…I think it’s good that you talked to him. At least, I hope it went okay? Jamie, he didn’t dunk you in a toilet, did he? That’s not good, that’s-”

“Nah! We just had a bit of a scuffle. But yeah, we talked some. Hashed it out a bit. A little. Still pissed off at him, but no toilet-dunking was involved this time. Uh…We mighta broken a few things, but that’s just how junkers negotiate, love. Told him what was what but…not got much to say to him yet.”

“I think that’s fine. It takes time. It’s taken us time, but I’m glad,” she said. She reached out, gently taking his mechanical hand in hers as metal digits clicked and pressed around her much smaller ones. “I’m still so glad you came back. No matter how mad I was.”

“Gotta be honest, you throwin’ yourself in front of a bus for me is probably the most romantic thing what’s ever happened in my whole life. Gonna be hard pressed to up that one, darl. Can’t just be chockies and cards anymore, after that.”

“Throwing myself at a bus is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, thank you. I think fear of prosecution was the only thing that stopped that driver from running me down,” she said. “When we fight again, I am instituting a rule that we can’t involve buses.”

He swept behind her, drawing her arms up to cross atop her chest as he leaned down to nuzzle into her hair once more. “My brave girl. Let’s just not fight again, ever! Just always agree with what I’m sayin’ or doin’!”

“You wish,” she replied, shaking her head. “Do you think you and Mr. Roadhog are going to be friends again? I guess we all got so used to you two being together, it’s almost strange that you’re not.”

“Of course! Me and him, we’re true blue mates. Of course, I’m changing the stipulations on his contract to include ‘not murdering me or mine in a blind rage’ and all. Not much a bodyguard if he’s the one who’s beating me up. And with fees incurred, medical bills, property damages, council tax, and all that, that’s a hefty chunk out of the ol’ paycheck. Guess he’ll think twice next time.”

“Okay, yes. That. And it’s good that he’s seeing somebody. Although it’s also hard to imagine him really talking a lot,” she said thoughtfully. Her expression shifted a bit, brows knitting above her glasses. “It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. I hope he’s not angry at us. Or…You don’t think he hates me, for telling Ana-”

“Hate ya? Nobody hates you, sweets. And ol’ Roadie doesn’t bother with silent grudges. If he doesn’t like someone he just walks right up and kills ‘em! Nah, he seemed real…thoughtful, I guess? But it ain’t hate, I’ll tell ya now,” Rat snorted into her hair, leaning to mouth at the top of her ear, that little playful nipping he did to both irritate and comfort her all at the same time. “S’cute though, you worrying about us.”

She smiled and tilted her head up into his cheek, nuzzling against him. “I know, I know. I worry too much.”

His eyes lit up a little as she moved closer, biting the inside of his lips to keep from grinning. “Ya know, if you’re really worried about me, I’ve been sleeping something awful lately. All cold and forlorn on that little couch, all cricked in the neck, shivering by my lonesome. If only I could be in a bed, with something nice and warm and soft…”

Mei’s lips turned up a little on one side, unable to hide her smirk. She lifted a hand, swiftly shooing his face away when he leaned to start kissing at her neck. “I’ll think about it. Although I think we’ve both been doing a lot better, after we talked it over. Maybe I’ll make a decision during dinner. Why don’t we go out? Maybe that Mongolian barbecue place, and then a boba?”

“I’ll be on me best behavior!” he vowed, tightening his arms around her, more clingy than ever before. He tried again, kissing at the side of her jaw and throat, letting his flesh hand start inching down her collar bone, black nails slithering their tips beneath the fabric of her shirt. “Dinner and sweet teas, yes. Then how about you let ol’ Junkrat take your mind off all this other nonsense? All these pent-up emotions and shit you’re always talking about, s’not good for anyone. Let’s get so worn out that we forget why we were ever mad at each other, eh?”

To his surprise, she turned about in his arms. Her eyes half-lidded behind her glasses, pursing her little pale lips as she pressed up against him. The overflowing softness of her chest was practically smushed into his ribs, wrapping her own arms around him. Her voice was low and breathy. “Jamison…”

The synapses in his brain, once so focused on his unique method of trying to seduce her, suddenly misfired when it actually worked. A lump formed in his throat, and in other places. He swallowed it down with a gulp, a stupid grin spreading across his face as his cheeks and the tops of his ears flushed a very happy red. “Y-yeah?”

There was a little tug on his arms, and at her behest he leaned down towards her. She stood on her tiptoes, leaning up to trail a little kiss along his cheek and pausing just before they touched his ear. He held his breath, waiting-

“You still have toilet paper on your leg,” she whispered.

He blinked, looking down. He did. A wet mound of toilet paper was still speared onto his peg.

With a grin of her own, she withdrew her embrace from around him, leaving him dumbfounded. She turned about on her heel, flouncing back into her room, then glanced back at him as if she clearly expected him to follow. “Should we get ready?”

“Yeah! Yeah, wait for me!” He kicked and flailed his peg, the joint popping and squeaking frantically before the tissue paper finally broke free. Leaving it in a wad on the floor, he flung himself after her. “Coming, love!”

The door hissed shut behind them.

***

“You are doing so well! Go, Mako Rutledge! So good!”

“Rrr-hh”

“Hm?”

“Roadhog,” he reminded her, though he could barely wheeze his name. The filters of his mask were working overtime. He’d have to adjust and change them out later. He probably needed to wash it too, with the amounts of sweat that was pooling inside it, sealed against his scarred lips and chin.

His enormous fists clenched around the bar, though even the metal was starting to bend from the two comically huge black weights that had been attached to either end. He lay sprawled on his back, staring up at the bottom of Zarya’s chest and her grinning face above that, topped by that lash of bright pink hair. She had both hands under the bar, occasionally pressing to help keep it steady on either end.

“Roadhog, yes,” she said, correcting herself quickly. “Doing very well, Roadhog. A little more!”

He heaved upward with all his strength, arms shaking as they finally straightened and lifted the massive weight up into the air.

Zarya whooped in victory. “Hahaaa! Yes, you have done it!”

Grunting, he lowered the weighted bar, guided onto the hooks on the equipment to keep it from crushing his chest. It had been a while since he had actually done anything pertaining to a proper workout. Usually his workouts consisted of lifting metal scrap and old tires and other weights that he needed to simply get things done. As he had told her before, he had no idea what his weight records were. And really, he didn’t particularly care.

But she was writing it down on the board on the wall, as proud as if she had done it herself. She grinned at the number happily. “Even better than your last one! With practice, I believe you will beat the old man’s records. Who knows, perhaps one day you will beat my record-”

Hog waited for the other shoe to drop.

It did.

“My record from when I was twelve years old, sick, and asleep. Ha!” she finished, lifting both arms in a flexing pose and looking back at him like she had just truly burned him, grinning. “It is a joke, of course.”

She snickered to herself, clearly pleased at her own cleverness, and Hog decided not to tell her that the only other person who found their own jokes so hilarious was probably Junkrat. Instead he sat upward with a groan, groping for the towel and wiping at his sopping forehead. “Mmh…”

Zarya sat down opposite of him, holding out a water bottle. He took it, and she dutifully turned away as he lifted the bottom of his mask to drink greedily. She just sighed and lifted her chin thoughtfully. “You are doing all right?”

“Mm. Guess so. Mei and Rat are-”

“I am asking about you.”

He grumbled to himself, wiping away drips of water with his arm before lowering his mask. “Yeah. Doing all right. Mostly. Not used to…all this.”

“What part of it?” She glanced back, seeing his features were hidden once more before turning to face him.

“All of it. Still uneasy, not sure why. Rat settled in. Used the word ‘normal’ here.”

That made Zarya smirk a little. “I would not call Overwatch normal.”

“It’s his normal. But not mine.”

Roadhog’s normal was sand and fire. His normal was struggling to survive in a world that he had created, in the ashes of what he had destroyed. He dragged the weight of his shit decisions wherever he went, and some part of him couldn’t escape it. Even here, he would wake up halfway across the world, and he would still be back beneath the burnt ruins of his once-home.

“I cannot say,” Zarya admitted. “Maybe you should tell Dr. White of it, when you see her? I do not…always understand this place, myself. Very different from being in the army back home. Sometimes that is good. But sometimes bad.”

“Mm.”

“But I guess there is enough good here that it is worth sticking around. I have made friends here. Mei, for one. And she is a good one, worth protecting. And even the ones I do not like, like your Junkrat, I suppose he is worth protecting too…” Now it was her turn to grumble, folding her arms. “But I will protect him with massive grudge. Ugh.”

Hog snorted a half-chuckle. At least with all the upheaval lately, Zarya’s and Junkrat’s mutual dislike was a sort of comforting constant. “It’s fine.”

“You have spoken with Junkrat, then? Is he still angry? Mei is…still angry at me,” she sighed. “I do not like disappointing her. She looks at you with these upset, watery eyes. Ugh, is like spear through the chest.”

“…We destroyed a bathroom. But we talked. A little.”

“Is that why that hall was roped off with the mopping bots today? You junkers, I swear. But you talked, that is good! Mei and I have disagreed before, it always takes time until we are really friendly again. But she is still my friend always. I, um, I hope she agrees with that, sooner rather than later.”

“Mm.”

“What was my point? Ah. I am saying, you are not only one with troubles in Overwatch. They are used to such things here. It is all…how do you say, ‘ragtag’ group? I cannot tell you anything to make it easier. But I just want you to know, at least from me…that you are not the only one here. You are not alone. We are strong, and together we are even stronger. We will protect them. And the others. And you. You…are understanding me, yes?”

Zarya glanced up at him, and her eyes were the same color as his wife’s had been…almost. When he looked again, they were a little more blue-green than he had thought before. Not precisely the same color, then. Maybe if he kept looking-

“Come, you will help me with the other equipment.” she said. “I was thinking, maybe some cardio…”

“No.”

“You break my heart, Mako Rut-…Roadhog. Fine. Maybe we will make this a weekly thing? I ah, I like gym time with a partner, but nobody is able to keep up with me. Maybe after your talks with the doctor? It is a very good stress reliever, very helpful. And as I said, you are more interesting than I thought. I like to have you around. Ah, you know what I mean. What do you say?” She held out one hand, looking to him with an expectant hesitance. “Friends, you and I? We are good together, for now?”

He looked down at it, then held out his own, engulfing her hand in one massive palm as he shook.

“Yeah.”

She smiled at him, and things got a little better.

Maybe this would never be his new normal, his world. Some part of him would always be trapped beneath that house, beneath that tomb, in a tomb of his own. And perhaps he would never escape it, waking up to the reminder of what he had done, punishment well-deserved for his many, many crimes. He wasn’t sure that any amount of talking with Dr. White or anyone else would ever heal those wounds- those wounds that went all the way through, into the deepest parts of him.

But maybe they could help a little. Like scar tissue, closing the wound and leaving something ugly behind to remember them by. And these were scars he couldn’t forget. He didn’t want to forget. But maybe he could remember without it hurting so much, hurting until he could stand no more and started hurting everyone else in turn. Even the ones he was supposed to be protecting.

He would ask Dr. White about it. Maybe not next time. But eventually.

For now, he decided to focus on the task at hand. He’d always been good at that. And there were still things that needed to be done. Eventually Junkrat would be back with some mess or other, and they would talk again. There was going to be a next time. Mei still needed his protection, and perhaps if he did well enough, she would look at him again without fear. And Zarya’s strength would falter eventually, as strength always did, and she would need him there.

He still had a job to do. And Roadhog was many things, but he was not the sort of man who left a job unfinished.

“Hey,” he said.

Zarya looked at him.

He offered a little nod. “…Thanks.”

She smiled again. “It is no trouble, my friend. Now come, we still have some time left on our practice session! You think you are sweating now?! I will show you how to make you really sweat!…That is not in perverted manner! Sorry! I am saying it is time for leg lifts! Afterwards, I have made us protein shakes. You may choose vanilla or banana. You should choose banana, it is much better. Now, get on the mat! Get ready! One- two- !”

Hog sighed. At least he hadn’t expected all this to be easy.

But maybe it would be okay for now.

#meihem #junkmei #meirat #junkrat #jamison fawkes #mei #mei-ling zhou #roadhog #mako rutledge #zarya #aleksandra zaryanova #overwatch #fanfiction #writing #zaryahog #ending #finale #he meant it

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poop4u · 5 years

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All Dogs Are Not Equal

#Poop4U

The post All Dogs Are Not Equal by Jackie Brown appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren't considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

Let’s look at some of the reasons all dogs are not created equal and why all dogs need different training approaches.

If you have a large or giant breed dog, like an Akita, Alaskan Malamute, Belgian Malinois, Bernese Mountain Dog or Great Dane, you need to train and socialize him very well or you’ll have big problems like the dog taking over all areas of the house, loud barking and aggressiveness (which is much scarier to your fellow man than in a small dog), leash pulling that will pull you off your feet, or jumping up and knocking people over. Photography courtesy ©YuraDobro | Getty Images

Breed (or mix of breeds)

Your dog’s ancestry is arguably the thing that influences him the most. All breeds were developed to do specific jobs, and different breeds have different characteristics that are hardwired after many generations of selective breeding.

“Know what the breed was bred to do,” says Allan Reznik, a journalist, editor and broadcaster who specializes in dog-related subjects. “Working dogs, herding dogs and sporting dogs are bred to work with man. They’re just more in tune with man and very much into pleasing you than say, a Terrier or a Hound. Those are dogs that basically just ran around killing vermin or chasing game; they didn’t require the same level of obedience.”

Think of your dog’s special breed traits as his superpowers and harness them for good, not evil. For instance, an obedient breed like a Golden Retriever or Australian Shepherd will love learning as many awesome tricks as you can teach. Beagles and Bloodhounds, while less obedient due to their distracting, incredible sense of smell, are awesome at dog sports like tracking and nosework. Extremely active dogs like Russell Terriers, Siberian Huskies, Border Collies, Labs and Dalmatians, excel at agility and make excellent hiking and jogging companions. Terriers will keep your yard gopher- and rat-free!

If you have an extremely active dog breed or mixed breed, such as a Boxer, Bullmastiff, American Staffordshire Terrier, Doberman, German Shorthaired Pointer, Greyhound or Vizsla, then lots of daily exercise is a must or you’ll have a hyper dog with undesirable behaviors because he is under-exercised. Photography courtesy ©FiN85 | Getty Images

Size and strength

All dogs need socialization and training, but big dogs and little dogs act differently and need different types of socialization and training. When you bring home a large-breed puppy, start your training off from Day One anticipating that your little puppy will no longer be small.

“Don’t allow a puppy to do anything that you wouldn’t allow an adult to do: That means play biting, that means pulling on the leash,” says Allan, who is also an American Kennel Club judge and the former editor-in-chief of Dogs in Review and Dog Fancy magazines. “It may be cute if a puppy does it, but as the dog gets older and stronger it’s going to be that much more difficult to break him of old habits.”

A dog’s size and strength can clue you in to the types of things you might need to work on in the future. For instance, a Yorkshire Terrier jumping up on you isn’t too bothersome, but a full-grown Mastiff jumping up on you can cause some serious trouble.

“Owners of large dogs might be more focused on things like pulling on leash, reactivity and jumping, while owners of smaller dogs may be more focused on housetraining and good social skills,” says Lori Nanan of New Hope, Pennsylvania, founder of the nonprofit Your Pit Bull and You, a resource created to highlight rewards-based training and promote Pit Bulls in a positive light. “In any case, the reality is that dogs are dependent on us to teach them how to live happily and harmoniously in our complex human world.”

For little dogs, focus on socialization and building confidence. Some people get into the bad habit of carrying little dogs around all the time instead of letting them explore the world on their own.

“You’re not doing the dog a favor by treating him like a furry baby,” Allan says. “You need to build the dog’s confidence. Let your dog walk on his own four feet. If the dog is momentarily frightened, resist the urge to pick him up and cuddle him and talk baby talk. Encourage him, but don’t overly pamper or baby the dog.”

If you have a small but very alert dog breed, like a Miniature Schnauzer, Dachshund, many of the Terriers, Chihuahua or Miniature Pinscher, you’ll want to focus on socialization, or you’ll have a dog that barks at every stranger, whether they are a danger or not. Photgraphy courtesy ©onetouchspark | Getty Images

Do your homework

In a perfect world, we would all do our research and carefully consider an individual puppy or dog’s personality and other traits carefully before bringing him home.

“People who live active lifestyles will do best with a dog who enjoys engaging in activities such as hiking, running, camping, etc.,” says Lori, who is also a staff member for the Academy for Dog Trainers. “Older folks might do best with an older dog who is past the puppy madness. All dogs are individuals, and there are factors that may play into temperament that are apart from breed. Considering this ahead of time can make for a happier life for all involved.”

Of course, the reality is that many of us fall in love with a dog at first sight — thoughtful reflection goes out the window. But even if you already have a dog, you can do some research about his breed or mix of breeds to help yourself better understand his drives and motivations. Trying to learn what makes your dog tick can go a long way toward helping you resolve his behavior challenges.

“The thing about a purebred dog is you can read up on them and you know you’re going to get a dog with certain predictable qualities, both physical traits and behavioral traits,” Allan says.

If you have a mixed breed, do a DNA test to help you figure out which breeds to research. While some results are quite mixed, there may be one or two breeds that make up the majority.

Your dog is unique

All dogs are not created equal — and all dog behavior is not the same. Whether you just brought home a puppy or have been struggling with behavior challenges for years, looking at your dog with fresh eyes can help prevent or resolve future issues.

BSL and You

Breed specific legislation, or BSL, refers to laws that ban or restrict certain breeds of dogs or types of dogs, like Pit Bull type dogs, in an effort to curtail dangerous or aggressive animals. Unfortunately, BSL hasn’t done much to decrease dog bites. The good news is that 22 states have outlawed breed discriminatory laws in favor of laws that address behavior rather than breed. But BSL is still a sad reality for some pet owners.

If you own a Pit Bull type breed, Rottweiler, German Shepherd Dog or any other breed targeted by BSL, do your part to combat the stereotypes by being a responsible dog owner. “Abide by the very basic rules that we have,” says Deirdre Franklin, founder of the advocacy and rescue group Pinups for Pitbulls. “Walk your dog on a leash. Get them vaccinated.”

Deirdre, who earned her master’s degree in public policy and wrote her thesis on breed discriminatory laws, advises knowing your dog’s limitations when it comes to interactions with dogs, other animals and people. “If you know your dog isn’t capable of handling a certain situation, don’t set them up to fail by bringing them there,” she says. “Watch your dog and don’t leave them alone with children — all dogs, not just Pit Bull type dogs.

All dogs have teeth. All dogs are capable of biting.”

Bring Out The Best In Your Dog

How well do you know your dog? To train your dog effectively, you must understand what makes him tick. “At heart, all dogs are the same, but they come in different sizes, shapes and personalities,” says veterinarian Gary Weitzman, DVM, CEO of the San Diego Humane Society and author of the National Geographic Complete Guide to Pet Health, Behavior, and Happiness: The Veterinarian’s Approach to At-Home Animal Care (2019). “Some like to be with people, some with other dogs and some do better by themselves. Training is all about knowing what you need from your dog and knowing what your dog needs from you.”

Dr. Weitzman shares some practical training advice for dogs of all breeds, sizes and personalities:

Determine what drives your dog. Does he need a lot of activity, is he very social, is he food motivated?

Make life as easy as possible with the right equipment. For instance, a sensation harness can help with big, strong dogs pulling on the leash.

Find a good, positive-reinforcement trainer. A knowledgeable trainer is worth his or her weight in gold.

Don’t skimp on training for little dogs. Yes, they’re cute, but small dogs need training, too. It will improve their behavior, help their confidence and improve their bond with you.

Socialize early and often. All dogs need socialization with people and other dogs. You can’t start that early enough.

Practice patience. Order a gallon of this and have it auto-shipped weekly. Puppies can be especially challenging, but your efforts will be rewarded with a well-behaved dog.