Junkrat X Fem Reader - Wounds Heal, Scars Fade, But Real Love Is Forever

Part 3 - The Truth

You gingerly stepped into his room, silently closing the door behind you.

Your gaze wandered around his room, it was an utter mess mind you.

The room consisted of a small black double bed, a thin tall mirror propped up against a tiny wardrobe, and a desk, lamp, and chair opposite it. The wooden desk was covered in fingerprints and splodges of soot, dust, and oil of some sort. Screws and hydraulic springs galore strewn all over it, and on the floor some sort of orange tool box filled with mechanical objects. 'Is this all he tinkers with in his spare time? Surely not' your mind wandered.

Your eyes finally landed back on the tall male. He sat on the bed, elbows resting on his knees, head held up by his robotic arm, eyes glued to the floor scanning the smudges of blackened dirt where his peg leg had trudged. He looked in total despair, like a deflated balloon. You'd never seen him so low before, and you never thought you ever would.

You walked over to the desk, wiped the edge down a bit with your sleeve, and leant against it, resting your hands on your knees. "So" you sighed "what's going on."

After a few seconds, you tilted your head and cleared your throat, giving him the go-ahead to start explaining things. "A-ahem..."

He looked up towards you, lips thinned, and he let out a gentle sigh. This worries you a bit, but you don't react upon his sudden slight change of behaviour. You sat waiting patiently to hear what he has to say.

"Look It's nothing important, really it isn't!" He explains trying to be upbeat about it. You furrow your brow and scowl at the tall man, forcing him to tell the truth. "Alright! Alright.... I'll tell ya..." he paused then continued hesitantly "It's... It's these bloody scars, love." He said with a wistful sigh. He stood up and turned towards the long mirror standing next to the foot of the bed.

You listened intently, watching him. Looking in the mirror that his eyes focused on, reflecting back his torso. He was too tall to fit fully in the mirror, but it was enough. You could see what he meant.

His body was littered with scars.
Big ones, small ones. Thin ones, and thick ones. No two looked the same.

Your eyes saddened lightly seeing the look on the Junkers face. Was it disgust? Hate? You couldn't quite tell.

"What's wrong with them?" You asked, your tone had become gentle and soft. "If it's any consolation, I've seen them hundreds of times and I've never seen anything wrong with them". You say with reassurance.

It took a little while for him to reply, his gaze still upon the mirror. He gulped, turned around and trudged slowly towards you. He stands in front of you, his skinny tall 6ft 6" frame towering over your petit Y/H frame.

"Look at them." He grumbled. "They're disgusting!" He growled in a repulsed manner. He drooped his head down away from you, his eyes closed. ".......I'm... disgusting..."

He paused.

"And I must be absolutely insane to think that a good lookin' sheila like yourself would wanna stay with someone that's disgusting. You're better than that Y/N. Better than me. And if you don't want to be with me anymore because I'm disgusting then I don't blame ya at all. Not one bit. You deserve better than this." He gestured towards his whole body.

You were completely taken aback by his remarks. In the near Two years you two had been together Jamie had always acted so confident, so mindless, without a care in the world, especially in front of you! He wanted to show off just how good he could be for the woman he loves and adores. You never thought he'd be so self conscious about something like this. Especially about losing you over the way he looks.

You couldn't exactly be surprised he felt this way either. After what he's been through, what he's done, nobody could ever tell how somebody would turn out after going through all that.

You took a couple of steps towards him and stood in front of his toned chest, softly studying his scars like ancient hieroglyphics. Each scar weaving it's own tale of luck or misfortune.

Gently, you traced over them with your soft fingertips, starting at his abs and working your way up, slowly following them as though they were a map of the stars.

You could hear his breathing becoming slightly heavier as he allowed you to carry on, he opened his eyes and glanced across at your hand. As you slowly traced upwards you could feel his heartbeat speeding up. You glided past his soot-smudged pecs and over his collar bone, following a thin scar along his shoulder leading towards another down his arm.
When you reached his wrist you laced your fingers in-between his blackened ones.

When he felt your hand suddenly clasp his, his head turned towards you, looking down at your now intertwined fingers.

You gently cupped the side of his mucky gunpowdered face and lightly guided him to look at you. His eyes were glossy, tears, maybe? You didn't know.

"Jamie." You whispered softly, gazing up at him.

"Yeah?" He murmured, replying in the same, quiet voice.

A split second of silence...

"You're beautiful".

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