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A pretty ok kid. (Discontinued...possibly indefinitely)

Chapter Text

The wastelands of Australia were cruel, unforgiving, and unpredictable. The people who inhabited them were even worse. Making surviving no small feat, and a challenge to just make it to the next day. You could starve, be eaten alive by the wildlife, be melted by the acidic radioactive rain, heatstroke, and of course be murdered. This was nothing new for Jamie. He grew up here, and he expected to die here. Most adults had a hard time living in the harsh conditions of the Outback, so a little kid of 8 years old, probably wasn't going to make it much further. He sure as hell would try though.
Jamie sifted through a scrap pile. Pawing at the heap of discarded metal and plastic. Pulling out the good pieces, and throwing out the rest of the garbage. Selling scrap was a good way to get the shit you needed, just so long as you know how to bargain, and know when your getting cheated. Well even if you knew both you could still get a bad deal. Like getting the shit beat out of you, and your scrap stolen because you were stubborn to higher the price. Jamie shook his head at the thought. That was just plain dumb on his part.
Scrap that sold well was kinda iffy. Usually things that were still intact sold well for rations, but also you could sell some bottle caps to some crazy druggie, and get just as much. Jamie tittered quietly as he thought about how that had actually gotten him a decent meal.
Once Jamie had been satisfied with what he had found he skittered across the sand towards the small community he had been camped out in. Small shacks that were made of old rotting wood, rusted metal, broken drywall, and anything else the people could get their hands on; littered the rocky outcroppings, and clung to the ground. Jamie stayed with the other children here, in an old busted up playground. It provided some shelter, and they had fortified it so it kept most of the weather, and animals out. It surprised him that it hadn't been scrapped yet.
Once Jamie had reached the pitiful excuse for a town, he went straight for the biggest building. He wasn't sure what to call it, a trading post maybe? Well, you sold your scrap there, and got food, medicine, clothes, and any other supplies you might need in return. It had to be easier than finding shit yourself. Sometimes though the guy working there would cheat you out, and wouldn't give you your scraps worth. He was a conniving, stealing, cheeky cunt, and Jamie respected him. Survived better than any of the other bastards out here.
The Man as he liked to be called; also had a respect for Jamie. Somebody had actually had the balls to steal some of his wares, and Jamie had brought them back, and of course got a meal out of it. That was the law of equal exchange! Since then The Man had never cheated Jamie out, and he always got what his scrap was worth.
Jamie came to a halt in front of the door. It was really just an empty frame with cloth hung across it. He slid the curtain aside, and slipped into the dark room. It was sweltering in here, but at least there was relief from the hot white sun. The room was practically void of all life except for one female junker, Jamie, and The Man. He greeted The Man and sauntered over to the desk.
"Ah, real fuckin' busy today aint ya," Jamie cackled as he hefted the blue tarp he used as a bag to carry scrap onto the desk.
"Pretty busy fer the middle 'o nowhere,"
The Man replied dryly. probably getting used to Jamie's shit by now.
"Ha ha, fair enough!"
The short interaction ended. Jamison was given what he needed. His rations, which were literally just old military rations, and bottled water, as well as shoes; his old one's had finally been busted and broken to the point of no return, and he really didn't want to burn his feet on the blazing hot rocks and sand for longer than he had to. He also didn't want to get bitten by snakes, spiders, or stung by scorpions. If there was anything moving on the ground, assume that it can and will kill you.
Jamie walked over the mulch of the old playground, pretty sure nobody was here just yet. It was midday, and nobody got done scrapping until later. None of them knew what scrap sold well or not. Not like Jamie did anyways. He had a knack for it, that's what The Man told him anyways. He drank some water, and decided to hole up in the shelter the children had built out of the old playground until the worst of the days heat had settled on the horizon.
He added the water, and military rations to the pile of supplies. They all shared, it was easier to get food this way. Jamie curled on his side, and closed his eyes, tired from carrying scrap all day. He was scrawny, malnourished, not well rested, and twitchy, and usually was tired out by this time of day anyways. Jamie laid there until his tittering high pitched giggles stopped, and his twitching was less erratic, and his breathing had evened. He laid there until he fell into a light sleep.
Jamisom didn't get to rest for more than a few hours however before he awoke to the sound of boots scuffling across mulch. He opened his eyes, and sat up quickly. The opening to the makeshift shelter revealing a smaller child. She went by Hornet and nothing else. Kinda acted like a hornet to, she was a nasty little spitfire. Smaller than Jamie, and probably a year or two younger, she was missing two fingers on her left hand, and had patchy brown hair, and dirty smudged pilot goggles.
Jamison didn't know her very well. He had just started staying here recently. He knew that she had a quick temper, and a nasty right hook for a six year old. Hornet had lost her fingers wrestling a dead rat from a dog. She apparently ended up beating it to death, and eating it as well as the rat. He didn't really have any reason to dislike her though, and honestly didn't think he ever would.
Jamie greeted Hornet, and she nodded back. Dropping her supplies on the pile before turning to Jamie.
"Hey, need to show ya somethin'," she waved for him to follow. He complied. He was already awake, and probably wouldn't get back to sleep by this point. Luckily he didn't have to go far. She held something out to him.
"Wonderin' if ya knew wot this was, and if it was worth anythin'"
The thing was small, and cylindrical, and red. It had a long string coming out of it. Jamie turned it in his hand curiously. It had some writing on it, but Jamie couldn't read.
"Err, dunno doesn't look like much, probably worthless." He looked at it again.
"Maybe it's a candle"
"That's a huge ass wick fer a fuckin' candle Jamie,"
Jamie cackled loudly.
"Ah fuck yer probably roight sheila, but lets set it on fire anyways"
"Yeah ,looks worthless, why not?
Jamie retreated back into the fortified shelter, and came back out with a grill lighter. A cheap,plastic,red one. He leaned over, and lit the string on fire, then put the grill lighter into his pocket. A sizzling, and cracking came from the object as the fire ate up the wick. Jamie backed up towards Hornet, suddenly worried about what would happen. When the fire lapped up the last of the string hungrily, the cylindrical object shot upwards towards the sky with a horrible shriek. There was a split moment of silence before a loud bang, and a flash of colorful light the shimmered high in the sky. Jamie looked on absolutely awestruck, and proceeded to fall on the ground screaming with laughter and delight.
Hornet however didn't seem as amused, and was cowering on the ground in fear. She peeked out, and when she realized she had been unharmed stood up straight again. Brushing the mulch of. She let out a laugh too. Jamie hopped up, and also wiped the mulch from his clothes. His baggy orange shirt, and dingy cargo shorts were covered in it.
"Ay, where the fuck did ya find that thing, that was awesome!" Jamie turned to Hornet excitedly.
"Follow me I'll show ya'" she said jogging off. The sun was going down a little, but Jamie wasn't worried about it. He didn't think about the dangers of the Oz at night. He didn't think about losing his life. All Jamie wanted was to see something blow up again. It had been exhilarating! The sizzle, the scream, the loud bang, and best of all the light. It had been such a gorgeous color. One he had never seen before. One he thought had been so pretty it had stolen his breath away.
Jamie jogged in stride with Hornet. She pointed to a large, decrepit, grey building.
"It was in there," she panted as they jogged towards the crumbling structure. Jamie picked up the pace, skidding to a halt in front of the broken walls. He clambered excitedly inside. Hornet stumbled in after him. Light filtered in through various holes in the roof, and walls. Shelves lined the walls, or littered the floor. Most of them had been stripped of anything edible or usable, but that's not what they were here for. They were here for the explosives!
Hornet led him to a shelf that had tons of explosives, and a bunch of other shit that also looked like it might explode. Jamie gathered as much of it in his arms as he could. Hornet immediately doing the same thing, they ran outside excitedly with their new found loot.
Jamie had paid no mind to his surroundings on the way here. But now that he glanced around, he was getting very nervous. The sky was rapidly growing darker, and in the fading light Jamie could see old bastion units littered the ground, half buried in sand.
"Hornet, you didn't tell me this was a fuckin' bot nest,"
Hornet looked around, and soon fear grew on her dirt streaked face.
"Shit, I didn't see those 'fore Jamie, lets just get the fuck outta here" she trudged ahead of him. Nothing bad had happened yet . Jamie looked nervously around at the broken omnics. The bastards that caused all this. Rage spilled through his terror. He had a right mind to scrap one of these robo pissants. He shook the thought from his mind.
The Man had told him war stories from the Omnic Crisis. He had apparently fought during the war, which made sense because of his greying hair. Jamie shivered as he recalled something he had said. Something along the lines of
"Their guns ripped through men and steel, they killed us in our tanks, and marched forward with no remorse"
Jamie didn't want to fall to one of these emotionless steel bastards. He swore that no matter how he died out here, that it would not be at the hands of an omnic.
Jamie looked at Hornet, she seemed to be growing impatient. He also wanted to get back to the makeshift shelter as soon as possible. The light purple sky quickly dimmed. Night marched quickly forward and Jamie did not want to be eaten by dingos before he got to see these explosives go off.
"I think we're fuckin' lost,"
"Wot?"
Jamie turned quickly to Hornet. She had led him here, had she forgotten the way?
"I said I think we're fuckin' lost," she repeated curtly
"No dumbass I heard wot ya said!" He rounded on her, facing her completely now. "How the fuck did we get lost!?" He asked shrilly looking into her smudged goggles, like the map home would be there. Instead were two grey-green eyes that were wet with fat tears.
"I dunno," Hornet choked. She slumped to the ground and started to bawl. Jamie stared at her. They were lost in the Austrailian Outback with nothing but some colorful explosives, and a grill lighter.
Still better than nothing Jamie thought.

Chapter Text

Jamie shuddered in the frigid night air. Calm, still, but unbelievably cold. The weak pathetic fire he and Hornet built stood no chance against it's cold sharp fingers. He shuffled closer to his companion, and although she seemed to resent touch, as Jamie had found out earlier when trying to calm her crying. She had punched him in the side, hard. Hornet let him lean close to her this time though.
They had gotten lost on their way back to the settlement. The settlement hadn't been much, but it was safer than braving a night in the wasteland with no shelter. With no weapons. With no wits.
Hornet could punch that's for sure, and her nickname suggested her violent temper. However she had the brain capacity of a green bean, and didn't like people very much. If some Junkers came after them looking for an easy target to steal from, she would most definitely start a fight.
Jamie was bat-shit crazy, and had a grill lighter, a bunch of explosives, and a brain to match the size of his ego. He had built plenty of bear traps from scrap before, and had repaired weapons (in exchange for a meal of course) Jamie was also likely to pick a fight.
The odds did not look good for winning though. A six year old and an eight year old, wouldn't stand a chance if a group of junkers decided to jump them. The night air, however, was cold, and still.
Jamie shoved his hands under his armpits in a futile attempt to warm them up. He tucked his lanky legs up to his chest, trying to make himself as compact as physically possible. He shivered.
"What the fuck are we gonna do?" Hornet asked, looking at Jamie with uncertainty. The weak fire reflecting off her foggy goggles.
"Fuck sheila, I dunno," he paused, before adding optimisticly "guessin' we'll figure out somethin' though,"
"Are you sure?"
"Well we aven't died yet ave we?"
"I guess,"
The silence stretched onwards after that. Making the surroundings more eerie. Jamie could see metal skeletons of old Bastion units ahead, ones that had probably been sent to stop the Australiam Liberation Front. He remembered the stories The Man had told him about the Omnic Crisis, about how they had taken their land, about the rebellion, and the fusion core exploding.
The Man had told, and taught him a lot of things. How to repair weapons, and what scrap was good to sell, and how to barter just to name a few. Jamie looked at the explosives next to him. Something in his brain clicked.
"Hornet, I've got an idea!" Jamie practically screamed at the top of his lungs he was absolutely BRILLIANT! Of course it was so simple, they had panicked for nothing.
Hornet practically Jumped out of her skin when He yelled. Jamie received a prompt punch in the shoulder.
"Are ya tryin' to alert every goddamn livin' thing in a 10 mile radius that were here!"
"Sorry Hornet, but swear it's good!" Jamie mumbled as he rubbed his sore arm. "Why do ya gotta be so fuckin' 'busive for?"
"Shut the fuck up and tell me,"
"Roight!"
"Well?"
"I can make a gun,er... a scrap gun, and If I figure out wot's in these here explosives, I bet I can make more of those too!" He started to ramble. "We can have a whole arsenal, and then we can steal people's shit,"
"How the fuck does that help our current situation?"
"Don't be a debbie downer, we can find supplies now, moving around will warm us up!"
Hornet shook her head disapprovingly her wispy brown hair moving with it.
"You go roight the fuck ahead you freaky little junk rat, but I don't want to get eaten by dingo's"
"Suit yourself, I'll figure something out, and get us some supplies," Jamie said as he turned on his heels, and walked off towards the east. Piles of discarded metal could be seen in the distance, and that's where he was heading.
Junkrat. It had a nice ring to it Jamie thought. Kinda like Hornet, or The Man. Yeah, maybe he would use it sometime!
He walked up to the pile of scrap, and groaned with the realization that his impatience to get started on tinkering, had made a fool of him. It was dark as fuck, and Jamie couldn't see shit.
Jamie stared back at the fire that burned further away. He couldn't make out Hornet's shape, but he knew she was over there. He didn't really want to walk all the way back. The cold made it impossible to sleep, and he was getting bored just sitting around.
Jamie decided to just sort through the scrap in the dark. It wouldn't be that hard to do. He had a knack for finding good scrap anyways. That's what The Man had told him. Jamie giggled as he set aside good metal, screws, and parts to his left, and junk to his right. He hummed a tune, one from an old radio that still had some life left in it...a song he didn't even know the name of. It was engraved in his head however, because it was the only song he knew.
Things had been going well. Jamie was starting to sweat from moving around so much, and picking up heavy metals. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He glanced back at the dim fire. Hornet was probably asleep by now, or just sitting there freezing.
There was an awful creaking sound. Metal scraping against metal as the beast crawled out of the pile of scrap. Jamie was glued to the ground with horror. His eyes met the glittering red light of the rusted bastion unit, reactivated no doubt from Jamie's scrapping.
The whirring, clicking, and screeching it made as it pulled itself from the earth forever implanted itself in his mind. Jamie was to slow, and to close to the broken automaton. It's mechanical arm flew out and gripped his right leg. The monster of metal and rust began to pull Jamie closer to it. He kicked and screeched in fear, and felt the warm liquid if urine soak his cargo shorts.
He felt the terror sink deeply into his stomach as the omnic pulled harder. Jamie clawed desperately at the ground for a grip. There was a violent lurch, followed by a crack, and a wet tear. He sprung free from the death grip and scrambled quickly away from the weathered robot.
It didn't register at first, it was numb. Then it clicked. Jamie didn't need to look at his leg to know what was there, or better yet what wasn't there. He looked anyway. Blood spurted out from the broken, twisted, angry wound. The sand became caked with blood, where his knee should have been.
Jamie's leg dangled from the bastion's hand, it looked at it as if it was puzzled by its presence. The automaton struggled for a moment, but then gave up and shut off.
Jamie stared dumbfounded at the ketchup geyser that was now his leg. He stared, and then he screamed. It echoed through the chilly night, a high, shrill, pained noise that would put a banshee to shame. His shrieking tore his throat raw and tears rolled down his cheeks as the pain wracked his body in time with his pulse. Jamie felt himself fade, he grew lightheaded, and his stomach lurched in an attempt to empty contents that were not there, and felt the already dark world around him grow darker as he fell into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Jamie felt his surroundings and memories filter in one by one. First came the horrible, throbbing, sharp ache in his leg. He felt horribly ill, and his head felt light and foggy.
Jamie couldn't figure out why the pain was so bad. What had happened? Maybe he had broken it? He couldn't piece together why agony dug it's long sharp nails into his leg.
Jamie realized it must be the middle of the day. Hot, bright, burning sunlight turned the inside of his eyelids orange. He slowly peeled his eyes open, and took in his surroundings. He was tucked away in a half standing home. The wood was spintered, and bleached by the sun, and the walls, or whatever was left of them, where painted an ugly pale green. Sand and rocks littered the floor where the weather could not be kept out.
Jamie sat up, and maybe he shouldn't have. He felt light headed again, and the pain from his leg shot up through him. He fell back to the floor with a pathetic whimper. One that sounded very much like a kicked dog.
"Jamie, I wouldn't be doin' much movin' 'round if I was you," Hornet's hoarse gravelly voice warned from somewhere. Jamie didn't heed the warning, and tried to sit up again. The attempt ended up in the same result. There was a tired, and irritated sigh off somewhere to Jamie's left, and away from the gaping hole in the wall.
Hornet appeared in Jamie's line of sight. She seemed angry, irritated, and upset. Which Jamie was totally used to people being.
"G'day" was all he managed to croak out. His throat felt dry, and sore. He offered her his best grin. Which obviously was very tilted. Jamie never could really remember getting compliments for being sane.
"Don't you G'day me, asshat," Hornet muttered as she helped Jamie lean against the wall. She held a canteen up to his lips, and he happily gulped down the warm, gritty water. "Goin' out lookin' fer scrap in the middle of the night," she grumbled angrily as she walked away to grab a couple dingy, flat pillows. "'An gettin' yer damn leg ripped off by a bot!" Hornet was raising her voice as she rambled. She set one pillow behind Jamie's back, and propped his sore leg up on the other.
Jamie looked at his leg. It wasn't broken at all. It was as Hornet had said. His leg ended at the knee down. There was nothing but empty air after that. Jamie felt the panic rise from deep in his stomach, and bloom angrily in his chest. The throb turned into an awful sharp pain, and hot tears spilled out of his eyes. His breath came in quick shallow bursts. All Jamie could do now was let out a litany of pain. He sobbed loudly, and pulled out chunks of his already patchy hair in anguish, it was a rather troublesome nervous habit. Just like scratching his skin, or chewing his nails.
"Hey, calm the fuck down!" Hornet put her calloused hands around Jamie's wrists, and pulled his hands away from his head. "I know it hurts Jamie, it hurt when I lost my fingies, but losing yer shit is not gonna help," Jamie felt his eyes sting from the tears. Hornet wiped them away as gently as she could, and Jamie couldn't have felt more loved than he did by that small gesture. The most physical affection he had ever received from another living person. He leaned greedily into the touch, and Hornet let him.
"Wot happened?" He asked his voice shaking, but he was trying his best to ignore the pain in his leg.
"Dunno, was just 'bout to fall asleep when I heard ya screamin' bloody hell," Hornet replied gruffly. " came runnin' an found ya passed out missin' yer leggie," she told him how she had dragged him back to camp, and tied a cloth tightly around his leg, and then dragged him here and stitched it. Apparently he had been passed out for about two days.
"I owe ya fuckin' big time Hornet," Jamie hiccuped. His tantrum finally subsiding. Hornet simply let out a grunt, and shuffled next to him.
"We'll wait fer ya to get better, an heal," she mumbled quietly. " you can build yerself a fuckin' leg an we can head to Junkertown,"
Jamie remembered hearing The Man mentioning Junkertown, but he couldn't remember any stories about it. Maybe that was because his brain had been fried by radiation, or maybe Jamie hadn't been told any. Jamie sighed feeling the awful throb in his leg, but an even deeper throb in his chest. He sobbed, and Hornet quietly snored beside him. He didn't want to wake her. Not after all that she had done for him. Not after she had cared about him enough to save him, to keep him around, and to wipe his tears away. Jamie wept quietly, until he too snored softly against his companion.
The next few weeks were awful. Jamie woke up from nightmares, and awful painful aches. His tittering, giggling, and cackling had grown more frequent, and much more deranged. He was sleep deprived and in pain, but somehow managed to keep his sanity, or whatever was left of it, in tact. His other awful habits kicked into full gear too. He pulled his hair until there was sizable chunks of it missing, biting his nails until the bled, and scratching his skin so it looked like he got in a fight with a wood chipper and lost.
Jamie could tell he was driving Hornet up the wall. She threatened him more than once that she would tie him down, and stuff a rag in his mouth if he didn't sit still and shut up. She never went through with it though.
Jamie was brought supplies so he could make a prosthetic, albeit a rather crude one. It took him awhile to figure out how the pieces should fit together, how to get the joints to function, and how to get the robotics to work. It kept him occupied for some time, and kept him from losing his collective shit about being completely crippled.
"Yer a real fuckin' smartie Jamie," Hornet muttered as she watched him work on the prosthetic limb.
"Whadidya say?" He looked up from his task. Shifting under the dingy blanket hornet had given him
"Ah said yer smart, dumbass,"
"Oh, ta!" Jamie grinned, and thought he should compliment her too.
"Yer smart too, like, you can sew an I can't," he looked at her, the grey-green eyes crinkling at the corners as Hornet smiled. The first smile Jamie had seen on the six year old's face in the three weeks that he had known her.
"I can teach ya Jamie, if you'd like," she paused for a second. "I mean, it's not like your going anywhere anytime soon," they both chuckled grimly, and fell back into a somber silence.
Time went on, and Jamie's wounds began to heal and scar. Hornet taught him how to stitch and sew. She helped him patch up his dingy camo cargo shorts, and watched as he finished up his prosthetic leg. It was a crude peg-leg, but it was functional.
Jamie had also worked on something else. It was a launcher of sorts. He figures they could use a weapon, and what better weapon than a bomb launcher made of old car parts? It wasn't that difficult to figure out the launch mechanics, and he took the grill lighter apart to use it as the ignition mechanic. Then he just needed ammo.
Junkrat had been studying the illegible symbols on the explosives, and wrote them on scrap paper. He gave it to Hornet, and told her to look for stuff with those symbols on it.
"Yer pretty bat-shit crazy about these loud ass bombs," Hornet mumbled as she dropped an armful of chemicals in bottles, and powders in packages.
"Well, my stump is still healing , so I can't wear my fake leg yet," Jamie shrugged his thin shoulders. "Might as well stay productive,"
"I guess," Hornet sighed as she plopped down on the ground. "So how are you gonna make it work?"
"Here, lemme show ya!" Jamie set to work bending pliable aluminum into a spherical shape, and packing the powdered chemicals in. Jamie showed Hornet the process he had figured out as from taking apart the old explosives. He only had enough to make ten explosives for his Frag Launcher, but ten would suffice for now.
"You figured all that out from taking those bombs apart?" Hornet cocked her head to the side, eyes wide behind her smudged goggles. "That's impressive mate!"
Jamie beamed under the praise. He had lost his leg about a month and a half ago, but he was ready to go to Junkertown with Hornet now. He was ready to put this shitty chapter in his life behind him.
"We'll set out tomorrow," Hornet told Jamie as the sun sank behind the shifting sand. "So get some sleep okay, you freaky little Junkrat," She ruffled his hair, or what was left of it affectionately.
Jamie set everything up neatly for tomorrow. His peg leg, frag launcher, and bag were all in a neat pile. Hornet had found food, and bottled water which was shoved into aforementioned bag, as well as a half empty first aid kit. They were set, and ready to go to Junkertown. The safest place in the Outback, which wasn't saying much. Junkertown was still a cruel place, but it was their best bet.
Jamie scooted over to Hornet. He laid there, and wondered what Junkertown was like. What kind of people lived there. What they would do when they got there. He felt uncomfortable that he and Hornet were going in blind, but soon the worry faded. It faded into a bleary, tired, foggy sleep.
The wastelands of Australia were cruel. They took everything from everybody, and owed nobody anything. Jamie should've known that things were going too well for him. He should've known that the wastelands were about to get crueler. He should have known.

Chapter Text

They had a rough start to their journey to say the least. Having been immobile for almost two months had made Jamie's muscles weak. His leg ached when he leaned into the prosthetic. It felt wrong. He limped and groaned with complaints as he hobbled slowly alongside Hornet. He sometimes had to lean against her for support. She was such a stocky six year old. He briefly wondered how she got so fucking buff. Maybe he was just thin.
Jamie didn't question Hornet's sense of direction. All she heard was "head west, that's where JunkerTown is." She seemed confident that they would find it, and honestly with their string of luck lately he didn't doubt her. Just feeling the frag launcher bounce against his hip was reassuring. They would be fine.
Hornet kept up with his endless babbling, which was honestly no small feat. He kept her morale up, and she calmed him. Her lack of words could come from a lack of education, but Jamie knew she was smarter than she let on. Having medical and survival skills, and enough smarts to keep them both out of trouble. Jamison used to think of her as a hotheaded, brash, prideful idiot who was just cute and small enough to keep around. Now that he had spent two months with her, he understood how she really was.
Hornet was spitefully calculating, had a vicious right hook, a nasty venomous mouth that would put any sailor to shame, and was the closest thing to family Jamie had ever gotten in all eight years of his miserable life, so in short she was the most important person to him. Jamie didn't ponder the fact that she might not feel the same. He knew he wasn't much help losing his leg and all.
Speaking of which.
"How's the leg Jamie?" Hornet asked. Her voice sounded exactly like she had gargled sand. Jamie was sure it sounded more raspy than usual.
"Hurts like a sunova bitch," he lamented "but it works, so that's a plus"
"Try not to lose any more limbs, stay outta trouble you wacko."
"I'll be on me best behavior!" He saluted her with a grin.
By the end of the day Jamie felt like he had lost his leg all over again. Well not really, but it hurt like hell. It almost felt like it was still there. He could feel the sand that had gotten into his boot, or the heat from the sun, or the tight grip of the omnic that took the damned thing in the first place. Jamie shuddered and giggled. He was finding it easier to handle things if he just laughed them off. Hornet found it unnerving.
The duo settled down for the night, apparently content with the travel progress they made. Jamie was mumbling and hissing in pain, and was glad that Hornet let him down gently. He took off the prosthetic. The stump of his leg was rubbed raw, and red. It was bleeding where part of the artificial knee joint had poked through. Fuck. To make it all worse Hornet had picked up this horrible dry cough. She had started to complain about a sore throat earlier, but Jamie had thought nothing of it. Now he was a little worried, being sick in a nuclear wasteland probably wasn't the best sign. You didn't need to be old and wise to figure that out.
"That don't sound good," Jamie muttered as Hornet hacked up a loogie and spat it "where the hell did you pick up that bug."
"Dunno, ah get sick all the time."
"Welp…shit,"
Jamie tried to tell himself it was just a cough, but he knew better. People died all the time from getting radiation poisoning. He knew he probably didn't have much longer either. However, Jamie tried to have hope. Maybe it really was just a cough, and nothing else.
The next few days of travelling were miserable for Jamison. He kept fixing, and tinkering with his prosthetic trying to make it more comfortable, but it didn't help any. The dull ache in his right leg never ended, and sometimes the pain sparked into one of his...fits. That's what Hornet called them. He would laugh maniacally, pull his hair, chew his nails, and the whole nine yards. Jamie couldn't help it though, and Hornet (although she tried her damned best) couldn't help him either.
After travelling for so long Hornet decided that needed to rest. Jamison complained non-stop about his leg, and Hornet was getting worse. Her cough developed into vomiting, fever, dizziness, and a whole bunch of other shit. They needed a place to recollect themselves before moving on to JunkerTown.
There was a structure that loomed ahead. It was gnarled, twisted, ugly, and black like smoke. It looked ominous and threatening, and what better place to hide? That was where they decided to settle. Jamison had no clue what the place was, or what purpose it might have served, but all he does know is that something horrible happened there. Something really, really horrible.
" well this is home for now," Jamie pulled Hornet in with him. She was fatigued from her sudden illness, and could hardly bear the weight of her own body.
" smells like copper," Hornet muttered. That was all that she said.
Jamie kicked litter and debris around until there was a clean spot to set his companion down on. He joined her on the floor undoing the straps on his prosthetic, and tossing it carelessly to the side. He settled down, weary from travel, and from the sudden stroke of bad luck. The Outback was rearing her ugly head, and it was only a matter of time before she would strike.

Chapter Text

Jamie muttered as he pawed through the boxes in the old broken house. Hornet's condition was worsening. He hated leaving her there alone to waste away, but they needed supplies. Their trek to JunkerTown had been cut short by her sudden illness. They were going to wait for her to regain her strength, but as of now, she was on a downward spiral.
Jamison wiped the sweat from his brow. Pulling this and that out of the boxes. Mixed tools, old toys, pictures of happy families long passed, a sewing kit, and some fabric. Nothing good. Again. He sighed painfully. Jamie felt sick too, but not as bad as Hornet.
Taking the tools, sewing kit, and fabric with him as he departed from the broken, sunbleached house; Jamie headed towards the twisted metal structure in the distance. The sun was less intense, and the air was cooling. The two months spent with his amputated leg had led them into the cooler months. He feared that they might be stuck out here in the winter if Hornet's health didn't turn around soon.
Jamie trudged across the rocky ground. The twisted, evil looking place was close now. Hornet would be inside sewing fabric together. Since she had brought him stuff to do when he was out of commission, Jamison had decided to do the same for his companion.
Once inside the metallic building, or at least the part of it that was safe enough to stay in, Jamison went straight for their little camp. The rubble, and debris had been used to reinforce the small establishment, but it was home, for now.
" ah couldn't find anythin' to eat," Jamison murmured quietly as he set the fabric and sewing kit next to Hornet's thin frame. " found this though,"
Hornet shifted a little but didn't say anything. Jamison reached over and patted her thin patchy hair. When he pulled his hand away a clump of , dull, lifeless, brown hair drifted away.
" ah'm sorry Hornet, for all this." Jamison waited for a reply, but got none. His companion was fast asleep. Her breathing was shallow, but still there .
Jamie got up with a groan. His whole 8 year old body ached. He had lost a lot of weight, which probably wasn't good since he had been thin to begin with. Shit.
Wandering off into the metal palace, Jamison aimlessly meandered this way and that. The sun was going down, and he had nothing to do. He drifted deeper into the chasms of broken support beams, rusted metal sheets, and machinery. Omnics littered the floor in undefined clumps of haphazard body parts.
As Jamison shimmied through a tight squeeze, something caught his attention. Which was really hard to do. Crawling closer to it, Jamison had this understanding, that whatever the hell this thing was, it would rake in a ton of cash.
Jamie grabbed it and shoved it into his pouch. Squirming through the way he came, and heading with higher hopes in Hornet's direction.

Jamison felt horrible. His body convulsed as it retched up nothing but burning, acidic, bile. Followed by a coughing fit that wouldn't let him breath. His small frame shook with the effort of holding his body upright. He could not pass out here.
He had finally found something for Hornet to eat. So she could regain some of her strength, but his own was also fading. His hair fell out in chunks, nothing would stay in his body, and he shook with tremors and twitching muscles.
"Hey there little ankle biter," a honeyed voice dripped out slowly from above Jamison. He looked up to see four, maybe five junkers. They were lean, covered in angry scars, and crude makeshift armour. The woman talking to him seemed to be the kingpin, and carried some sort of blunt weapon hefted over her shoulder.
"You got somethin we want kiddie,"
"Why don't you be a dear and hand that over,"
"We won't kill you, and we get food, seems like a win-win to me,"
Jamison shuffled backwards, his peg leg catching on a rock, and he fell onto his backside. Shaking, he clutched the package of dried meats and veggies to his chest. He couldn't lose these, or Hornet would starve.
The Junkers closed in. The woman who had spoken to him first grabbed him by the arm, and wrenched it. Jamie launched forward snarling like rabid dog and bit her, hard.
"Auwch, YOU LITTLE CUNT!" She dropped him onto the ground again. He tried to scramble away before he was grabbed again. Another Junker a guy, he was huge, very muscular, flipped Jamie over and kicked him in the ribs.
He had the wind knocked out of him, but he'd be damned if he was going down yet. Gripping the next foot that found itself in his side, and clinging to it for dear life. Jamison bit fought and scratched with all his might, but it was in vain.
He was lifted like a sack of flour and tossed onto the ground, knocking the wind out of him for a second time. Jamison no longer had the food in his hands, and was honestly just hoping to get out alive by this point. He heard boot crunching forward, and the woman's voice again.
" ah, yer spry lil' shit huh?" She put her foot on his back, and spat on the ground next to his face.
"Cuz yer such a fighter, I'll still let you live, but not without a cost," Jamie shuddered as the group of Junkers chuckled around him.
He felt the woman shift her weight above him, and heard her grip the blunt weapon.
It was Just like when he lost his leg. It didn't even register at first. It sure as hell did when he felt the second blow. Jamison screeched in pain. His voice cracked until it cut out. The third and final blow apparently did the job. He writhed on the ground, black spots appearing before his eyes, but his body was apparently not ready to pass out. Not yet.
"Oh we're not done yet," she tightened a cloth around his mangled right arm. He heard the sound of a fire starting. It was getting pretty dark wasn't it? What would Hornet think of the mess he'd gotten himself into. She would be upset with him for causing her more trouble. She was so sick, and he was making it worse by putting more stress on her shoulders wasn't he?
Jamie felt his body being dragged over by the fire. His mind was completely numb to it. When they pressed the hot metal to his wounded arm all he could do was take it. He was somewhere else, and felt nothing. His body was not reacting to anything. To the taunting, the spitting, or the burning.
Once they had finished graciously cauterizing Jamisons wound. They threw him onto the sand just outside the warmth of the fire. He curled up there, and finally passed out.

Jamison awoke to a canteen being pressed to his lips, and a sweet familiar voice in his ears. He graciously drank the gritty water, and soaked up the attention.
Hornet had mustered up the strength to find his stupid ass after he didn't come back last night. She found him alone next to the burnt out campfire.
Jamie looked up at her through bleary eyes. She was pale, her eyes sunken in, and her brown hair was patchy and dull. She was not wearing a shirt " m' skin hurts Jamie, and the shirt makes it worse," was what she told him. Her pilot goggles where even more smudged and dirty than usual, and the grey green eyes behind them were glassy, and distant. Somewhere in the distance, though, they held a warmth.
"G'day Hornet,"
"G,day yourself you freaky little Junkrat," she patted him on the head. "How the hell did you do this?" She gestured to his arm. It looked gruesome.
" I'll tell you on the way back. Were leaving for Junkertown tomorrow anyways" Jamie stood up with the help of Hornet.
"Neither of us are well enough to do that, and you know that Jamie," she replied gruffly.
"Yeah, and we're gonna starve, or get beaten to death out here," Hornet seemed to ponder this before caving.
"Sure, just don't make me regret it,"
"I'll be on me best behavior,"

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Okay, so as of recently Ive been feeling kind of...jaded, in regards to this story. I might keep it up, but I dont really want to continue it. I wouldn't want to dissapoint anybody who might have been excited for it to continue, bit I just don't have the willpower to continue it.
I have a good feeling that nobody actually reads this or wants it to continue. I might pass the torch onto somebody else and see if they want to continue it for me.
The plot started as something I joked about with my friends about Junkrat being a feral 25 year old man with the brain of a 3 year old who had an extensive grasp of every swear word in the English language and access to guns. Then it evolves into, Pretty Ok Kid.
Maybe I'll just delete it and rework it, or just take a long hiatus from it. That last option is probably not likely, seeing as I dont want there to be a skill gap.
Im not really sure what I want to do, but I all I can say is that the story will be discontinued for now. Sorry for dissapearing (to anybody who was actively reading this I guess)

Chapter Text

In regards to my story Pretty Ok kid, I would like to update you all on the actual state of the story. I left on a pretty vague note, and really I never really found any new muse. I was kinda running dry on my Overwatch high, here, lemme explain.
I started playing overwatch over summer break. I had heard people shit-talking tha
E fandom, and wanted to see what it was like for myself. It blew my mind. I had long since abandoned my fandom ways, since undertale actually, and hadn't really fallen in love with a game or series for a while. However, all the characters were so fantastically diverse! I was just scrolling through them one by one in training, and watching all their opening animations. Then I got to Junkrat. He came on the screen, and laughed. Out OF ALL THE CHARACTERS I COULD HAVE CHOSEN I CHOSE THE GARBAGE MAN. It was great! The game was great and I loved it!
Then I wanted to know more about the characters. Their stories, who they were. I watched every cinematic and origin video. I talked with people on tumblr, looked at fanart, and drew some too! Then I got to fan fiction. Ahh my cursed old friend. Undertale left me feeling...jaded...towards the literature side of fandoms. Again, the fandom was a gift that kept on giving. I loved the headcanons, over analyzing, and scraping all the bits and pieces of lore into something coherent. I wanted to write my own. Like immediately.
When I wrote the first chapter I was enamored by the responses I had gotten! Everybody was so kind and I responded to every comment. Currently the story has almost 500 hits! What! I know by normal standards that's not a whole lot, but it still means something to me.
After a while though, I finally got the other side of the coin. I saw the ship wars, got the nasty toxic players in the game, saw some pretty raunchy fan art, like not the normal raunchy, but like...the fetish raunchy ( I have a DA though so that didn't affect me as much)
I didn't take as much pleasure in the game or characters anymore, and that bled into my writing, which became less and less frequent. I grew tired of being scared of not pleasing the fandom. I felt like my writing was sub par already, and with the comments being made towards me in gameplay...I just stopped. Mid chapter, and dumped that vague ass shit on a03. I don't even really remember what I wrote at the time of writing this tbh.
However, in light of the Christmas season, I got a new headset and decided to start playing again! I made new friends, and talked with old ones. I fell in love with the game all over again.
I started thinking more and more about this story, what I could have done better. How I could have managed my time and chapters more wisely.
So you're probably thinking, "shut the hell up and get on with it already, stop fucking monologuing"
I'm going to keep the old Pretty Ok Kid up. However, I am rewriting it. I will be taking more time, and updates will be slow, but longer. I want to think things through this time, instead of jumping on the next idea that comes to my head like the lizard that I am.
Finally, I wanted to apologize. I guess I technically don't owe you one, but I feel like I do. I didn't want to let anybody down who was actually enjoying the story, and I could have handled things more professionally, and less emotionally. I came off as whiny, and I didn't like that.
Anyways, as always, thank you so much for your support. Your encouragement means a lot to me, and it makes me happy to see other people enjoy my work. I hope you are looking forward to the future of this story as much as I am.