Scorch (Junkrat X Reader)

I: Home sweet home

(13:44 Watchpoint Gibraltars airport)

Loud cheery voices broke my slumber, causing my head to snap upwards from where it was resting on my on my bony knees. My eyes felt heavy and painful as I forced them open, groaning in annoyance as the vicious throbbing pulsed heavily through my eyelids. I waited anxiously for the harsh bright tones to soften before turning my head to glance at my surroundings.

Many young men and women where milling excitedly around the small aircraft, chattering away about their awaited success. The plane must have just landed. Thank goodness, I hated being in the air for so long. The trip from (hometown) to the Mediterranean sure did me in.

I rubbed my sleepy eyes and stared blankly at the seat in front of me before noticing a light blue streak of light in my peripheral vision. I did a double take, peering out the fog tinted window once again, my breath hitching in my throat.

I guessed who it was and, to my delight, I was right.

The bright cheery face of Lena Oxton shone outside my window as she danced around excitedly on the landing port. I must be dreaming there's no way that she's outside this aircraft.

I pinched my good arm, it burned and I didn't wake up. This is no dream, shes really here.

I grinned from ear to ear at her through the oval shaped window. How wonderful it was to see such a friendly face. Good old Lena, always dashing about. I can't believe that she came all this way just to see me.

Her mousy brown hair blew in the wind as she leaped and pranced, desperately waving and pointing to what she was holding in her scrawny arms. It took a while to process, but I finally noticed the large white poster that she held up high above her head. The sign was adorned with many different signatures and read; 'Welcome back to the team' in a bright orange, cursive looking font. Orange, my favorite color. She remembered.

I shimmied upwards in my seat, waving my free hand behind the thick glass window. She waved back before pumping her fist in the air and mouthing

'Are you gonna get off yet?'
I chucked and mouthed back

'Maybe never!'

And then puffed out my cheeks in an imitation of a chipmunk, I always told her that she looked like one.

Lena chortled and stuck her tongue out at me before pointing sideways and dashing towards the planes entrance. A blue streak of light was all that remained, giving me the reassurance that it really was her and that I really wasn't dreaming.

I laughed silently to myself, she's just the same as I remember. Oh Lena. Excitable, naive, and childish. But that's what I loved about her.

I took her sudden disappearance as a sign to excitedly peer up at the cloudy sky, and become lost in thought over my new predicament. It's been years, but the reunion of Overwatch was a definite change, occurring even with the anti-activity laws set in place to prevent that sort of thing.

I was 16 last time I had entered the base, I was once in their military training program, preparing the join the ranks as a soldier. I was but a mercenary and had only been on a few missions before the program was called to a halt, shortly before my decoration ceremony.

I yawned glancing downwards at my small scarred hands. My left was but a shiny metal husk. A prosthetic. Memories of old friends, adventures, and loss flashed through my mind. I can't remember how I got these scars, but they mark my dangerous career and I should be proud of that.

These injuries where the mark of warfare.

I peered up at the front of the plane, anticipating my eventual departure from the cramped space. I had spent the ride in the comfy first class seat, but even in those conditions, I still remained a tad bit uncomfortable. Maybe I'm just hard to please.