Roadrat Oneshots

The Voices

A/N: Ok so this is going to be a pretty heavy chapter. This will contain thoughts of suicide, self-harm and sever mental illness. If you're sensitive or uncomfortable with this then I suggest not reading this. If you do decide to read this, please be careful as I may go into graphic detail. If you are dealing with this please seek professional help because there is something or someone out there who loves you and wants you live. And if you can't think of anyone you know, just think of me, because I want all of you to live.

*Recently I found out that Junkrat has schizophrenia and I thought "oh my gosh" and just had to write this. Onto the story.

"Why are you still here?"

"Why do you even bother anymore?"

"You should just leave."

"Just go and kill yourself, I'll solve so many problems. Make so many other people happy."

"No one would miss you."

"Not even Mako."

These were all the things that Junkrat could think about, all he could focus on as he slide the sharp knife across the soft, sensitive skin of his inner thigh. His hands trembled as shaky sobs escaped his lips.

He was sitting on the edge of the toilet, the blood pooling under him and onto the floor. There had to be at least 20 or so cuts on both of his legs. He couldn't stop crying, not from the physical pain, but more so the emotional. God he hated himself. Hated the fact that he was sitting here, cutting himself, hated that he was so weak, hated that he was crying, hated that he was alive. He really should just kill himself. It would solve a lot of problems.

"Do it."

"You deserve it."

"You've never done anything right...or good."

"Shut... Shut up..." Junkrat mumbled, but there was no force behind it. He had no energy left, no strength. He took the knife and, again, slid it across his thigh, feeling the blood drip down his legs and onto the floor.

"Just as we thought. You're a coward." he heard it again, those damn voices.

"SHUT UP!" He screamed, quickly jerking the knife across both of his thighs. He let the tears flow freely down his face, not caring anymore.

~

Roadhog had just gotten back from a mission against Talon. They had won. As he turned on the light on in the room there was no noise to be heard. Something was wrong. He set his hook and gun down on the nightstand next to the bed before taking off his gear. He unhooked his mask and took a deep breath, held it and exhaled. He heard something sharp drop against the floor in the bathroom in their room, then a couple muffled curses. He looked over to see the bathroom. The door closed but the light was on.

"Rat?" He called out. He didn't get a response besides frantic scrambling and more cursing. He walked over to the door and tried to open the door. It was locked.

~

Junkrat's eyes widened as he heard Roadhog on the other side of the door take a deep breath.

"He's back already?!" he thought. The knife slipped out of his hand, clanking loudly against the tiled floor.

"Oh fuck." He mumbled.

"Rat?" He heard Roadhog call out for him, but he couldn't say anything. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. He tried to stand up, but once he had gotten onto his feet he felt the blood rush out of the cuts and it felt like his legs were on fire. He had to get to the door before Roadhog tries to break it down, because he knows he can and will do it. The door was locked, thank God, but that wasn't going to be enough to stop him. He heard the knob turning. Junkrat tried again to stand up. He gripped the edge of the sink and slowly rose to is feet, trying his best to not start crying again.