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.
"Rat-open the door." He heard Roadhog demand, but there was something off about his voice. It didn't sound right.
"Don't... Don't come in..." Junkrat forced out. He voice was raw from all the crying. "Please."
~
It broke his heart to hear him like this. Roadhog shouldn't had left him alone, especially when he knew Junkrat wasn't acting right. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear his head. It didn't work. He gripped the door knob harder and twisted it, breaking the lock in the process. He flung the door open and dear God there was blood everywhere. He was in the middle of it. The knife sat sickly at Junkrat's feet, completely covered in blood. Junkrat himself was gripping the edge of the sink, his eyes completely wide staring at Roadhog. His eyes were red, no doubt from all the crying.
"I...uh." He tried to stand up strait but the pain in his legs were just too much for him and he ended up having to grip the sink again. That got Roadhog moving.
"S-Stay away..." He heard Junkrat mumble just barely above a whisper. Roadhog stopped. He tried to fight the tears back but to no avail. He started to sob, rubbing at his red eyes. He couldn't take it anymore. The stares, the whispers, the guilt, the lies, lies either about him or the lies he tells himself that. He quickly grabbed the knife at his feet and stabbed himself in the stomach.
He was expecting to feel the pain in his chest and feel light-headed. But all he felt was one of the large hand of Roadhog grabbing his wrist, the one that held the knife, and the other around his waist pulling him into Roadhog's chest.
"Don't." Is all he heard Roadhog say. He grabbed the knife from his hand and dropped it. He wrapped his arms around Junkrat's waist, resting his chin on his head. "Please, don't."
"Mako..." Was all Junkrat could respond with. He went limp, the only thing keeping him standing were the arms around him. Junkrat cried into his chest while wrapping his arms around Roadhog the best he could. Being held like this, gently yet firm, almost made Junkrat forget about the burning pain in his legs. Almost.
"Please," Junkrat started, "I-It hurts." He finished, reaching a hand down to touch the cuts. Roadhog pulled away to look down and get a good look at them. The blood had begun to dry, and the parts that hasn't dried yet had completely dripped down his legs and in between his toes. Most of them were shallow, but some of them were deep and needed stitches. His legs were violently shaking.
"Jesus Christ." Roadhog mumbled. He knew it would be bad, but this was gruesome. Roadhog gently set him down on the toilet and walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, taking the knife with him. Junkrat sat there, alone and cold. The blood had completely dried now and he was tempted to pick at it.
Roadhog came back holding a first aid kit and Junkrat just sorta stared at him. He opened it up while crouching, Junkrat's eyes were following him the whole time.
"Oh. Oh fuck no." Junkrat mumbled while trying to squirm away. He knew where this was going. Knew what he was trying to do, and he wasn't about to let him. "Oi! Let go of me!"
"They need stitches." Roadhog dampened a cloth with rubbing alcohol while holding down one of Junkrat's thighs. He started to clean the cuts while hearing all of Junkrat's protests and quiet whimpers of pain. By the time he had finished cleaning the cuts the whole cloth was drenched in blood, and that didn't even include the dried blood that had dripped down the rest of his legs. Roadhog eyed the cuts, determining which ones needed stitches and the ones that only needed to be bandaged.
"Stop it, I'm fine! Who cares anyways?" Junkrat practically screamed.
"I do." Roadhog took the needle out of its packaging and cleaned it off. He held firmly to one of Junkrat's flailing legs and aligned the needle.
The needle went in... and Junkrat screamed.
"Hold still." Roadhog said.
"Hold still!? You're putting a damn needle in my skin!" Junkrat tried to get away, twist out of his grasp, but he couldn't, he knew he couldn't and that made all the more angry. "Fuckin'- stop..." he mumbled. Junkrat went to slap, but there was no force behind it. He did it over and over again. It didn't hurt at all, but it was just annoying. He grabbed his wrist, while continuing to sew him up.
It made Roadhog sick. Not just the bloody cuts on Junkrat's thighs, but the thin wrist that was in his hand. It was just a sick representation of the man who is usually so loud and bubbly. How did he not notice them sooner?
"The shorts." Junkrat told him, seeming to read Roadhog's mind. "I used my shorts to hide the cuts." He was crying at this point and all Roadhog wanted to do was cuddle Junkrat. But he had to finish sewing.
Time went on. There was only one cut left. Junkrat removed his hand from his eyes and looked down at the stitches in his thighs.
"You," Junkrat started "you..." Roadhog looked up at Junkrat. There was a flicker of emotion in Roadhog's pale eyes, something like concern or adoration. Junkrat felt his eyes become filled with tears again. Roadhog finished sewing Junkrat up. He cleaned the cuts one more time before covering them with gauze and bandages. Junkrat stayed sitting on the toilet while Roadhog went to wash his hands. He dried them off and bent down in front of Junkrat. He gently grabbed one of Junkrat's thighs and kissed the bandages.
"Why did you do this to yourself?" he asked just barely above a whisper. He kept kissing the bandages while he let Junkrat cry softly.
'"They won't stop," he mumbled , "They won't shut the hell up." His fingers were laced into Roadhog's hair, slowly combing his fingers through it.
"Who?" Roadhog asked, lifting his head up to look at Junkrat's face. It was flushed and there were tear tracks that cut through all the gun power and soot that had caked itself onto his face. His eyes weren't as red as before, but they were still puffy from the newly shed tears. Junkrat looked away, squeezing his eyes shut while pointing to his head.
"They won't shut up." Junkrat had curled into himself on the seat, sobbing loudly, practically screaming. Roadhog let go of him and watched him cry, Junkrat's hands covering his face. He didn't understand at all. Was he suppose to?
And then it hit him.
His Schizophrenia.
"Oh my God. How could I forget." When they had first joined Overwatch they were both given a physical and mental evaluation. Mercy had told Roadhog that he had been diagnosed with schizophrenia along with a couple other health conditions. Roadhog wrapped his arms around Junkrat, caring him into the bedroom and placing him gently on the bed, all the while listening to his quiet sobs. Roadhog walked back into the bathroom, watching Junkrat curl into a ball on the bed, and returned with a towel damp with soapy water. He cleaned the rest of the blood off his calf and foot, being careful not to snag the bandages on his thighs. He then cleaned his hands, chest, and face. Roadhog threw the towel through the open bathroom door.
Roadhog took off the rest of his gear from the mission (boots, armor, gloves, weapons, etc.) and lied down next to Junkrat. He wrapped one of his arms around Junkrat's waist while the other went to cup Junkrat's cheek, wiping away a few stray tears. Junkrat immediately snuggled closer to Roadhog, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Junkrat closed his eyes, clearly being tired from all the previous events.
"Do you not know that I love you?" Roadhog asked. Junkrat peaked open his one of his eyes looking at Roadhog. "Guess I don't tell you enough." He said, placing his chin onto of Junkrat's head.
"Wha-No! You tell me plenty!" Junkrat said quickly.
"Then... why did you do this to yourself?" Roadhog asked. For once, Junkrat was speechless. He himself didn't know why he did it.
"I...I don't know. I'm sorry." Was all Junkrat was able to say.
"Hush. Don't be sorry. It's okay, we're okay." Roadhog comforted him. Junkrat wrapped his arms around Roadhog's neck, snuggling closer to him.
"Hey." Roadhog mumbled.
"Yea?" He answered.
"I love you, Jamison Fawkes."
Junkrat felt his throat tighten as the words left Roadhog's lips. It wasn't he first time he had told him, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. A small smile crept itself up Junkrat's lips and he let out a small chuckle, pressing his chest against Roadhog's.
"I know. I love you, too, Mako."
A/N: This is seriously over 2,200 words an I'm shook. I didn't intend on it being this long, it just sorta happened. I'm basically Junkrat rn, but I don't have a Roadhog to patch me up. I really do hope you all enjoyed this because this took a lot of effort.