Wasteland (Overwatch)

Chapter Four

"What?!" I exclaimed. He nodded solemnly. "What am I suppose to do with an arm and a half? I might as well be dead!"
"Well that arm of yours isn't going to do you much good, is it? It's the best solution I can think of," my mind had already been racing, and now it had reached a whole new level.
"But, but..." I was trying to think of an alternate solution but my mind was blank.
"Jamie!!" Elliot came racing around the corner. "How did you...?"
"It's a long story, but I'm in a bit of a pickle here," the doctor made a motion with his head, dismissing me, and I walked out of the building with Elliot, being cautious of my arm.
"No shit. Now you need to tell me how you got out. You're a scrawny little dude, and I can't imagine anyone else here would either find you or have the heart to help you. I know it wasn't magic," I hemmed and hawed whether I should tell him about Roadhog's assistance or not. It's not that big of a deal, is it?
"You're probably still not going to believe me, but do you remember when we were little and I said I saw Roadhog?"
"You're kidding me Elliot, I can see right through your bull, mate."
"You didn't let me finish. Anyway, later that night he sat down with me and we just talked. I still remember it like it was yesterday. He gave me some money after too. I hadn't seen him since then, but while I was waiting for you, I heard a truck, and he came around the corner, lifted the sheet of metal up and walked me into town," Elliot seemed to believe me a little more. "He's a real guy, mate, he's not some myth."
"I know that. It's just..."
"He's a monster."
"Yeah. So how's the ol' arm?"
"Well it doesn't work anymore, and doc said he's gunna have to cut it off," his jaw dropped.
"No."
"You betcha. My life couldn't get sweeter, could it?"
"I'm so sorry dude, that blows."
"It more than 'blows'. I won't survive out here with only one arm. Plus I could get infections while it heals up. It's just a big ball of bad luck."
"But hey, you seem to have Junkertown's most wanted criminal as your buddy, so that's not so bad, eh?" I chuckled.
"I suppose, yeah."

I stuffed an old piece of leather between my teeth as Doctor Stokes prepared to amputate my arm. Not going to lie, I wasn't looking forward to it. But my hand was turning an unappealing purple-brown, and I could tell it needed to go. Stokes turned around with a large knife in hand obviously not very excited for the activity either.
"Oh a butcher's knife, that's great."
"Pardon?" Due to the fabric in my mouth, he couldn't understand a word I was saying. I shook my head. "Okay, as you would expect, this is going to hurt quite a substantial amount, so make sure you're biting on that cloth there, and don't look. I'll have my hands full of you faint," I nodded, suppressing a shiver. "Theoretically, you shouldn't feel much, but that's just a theory. Okay, you ready?"
"As I'll ever be," I managed to say. I closed my eyes as he had directed, and readied myself as much as I could.
           Everything went in slow motion, it seemed. I felt the cold blade of the knife on my skin, and then more pain I had ever felt in my life combined. I didn't scream, I instinctively I bit down, and I would've grind my teeth to dust if the cloth hadn't been there. What was worst about the pain, as it lasted forever. I heard Stokes talking, but I couldn't make out what he was saying.
            "Jamison, you can take out the cloth now," my mind had come to enough that I was able to process thoughts. I spit out the cloth, and took a few breaths.
          "Holy shit."
          "We're not over yet, I've still got to sew it up," I nodded faintly, and continued breathing. "All right... Just let me get the bandaging," he turned around to his cupboards, and I finally opened my eyes and looked down to my arm. There was a fair amount of blood everywhere, and where my elbow had been, was a stub. The strangest bit was, it felt like the rest of my arm was still there. Like my brain was so used to it being there that it didn't recognise it was gone. "Here we are!" he turned back to me and started layering my arm in gauze and old fabrics. "I cleaned them, don't worry," he tied everything up, and stood back. I lifted up what remained of my arm, and looked at it. All that for a joke.
          "Thank you," I said, trying my hardest to sound like I meant it.
         "Not a problem. I'm not too picky about prices, or the time, just as long as I get one," he chuckled. Back to the old Junkertown I knew. I stood up, feeling slightly dizzy, probably due to the blood loss, and went to find Elliot. On my trip, I kept looking at my arm. What am I going to do with you?