Chapter Text
Jamie was half wondering if could patch up the ruined beginning he literally blew to pieces and maybe get a "won't kill ya next time I see ya" sort of relationship out of it when the radio crackled. He could hear Ana's voice staticing in and out.
He got up from his work and made his way over so he could actually understand what she was going on about.
"Oi, nan. Whatsit this time?"
Through the static he was able to pick out a few words and they were not good.
Not even bothering to mess with the wires, he hurried back to the bike.
"Look," he said the mountain of a man, "I fix this and you take right back into town. Then we're equal."
"Trouble?"
"Raiders and none of your business unless you're willing to help."
"...I'll get ya to town. Then we're even."
Jamie nodded and got back to the bike. It didn't take long to finish. He took a quick moment to fill his back pack with any explosives he could find.
Roadhog started up the bike. If the kid wanted to get killed fighting raiders, that wasn't his problem. Though, by the sound of his bike, the brat wasn't that bad of a mechanic. Might be useful to have a quick fingered guy like that alive. But if the blonde kicked it, he'd just find another mechanic. Someone who talked less.
Jamie could see the smoke before the town even came into sight.
"Come on, come on," he whined under his breath. His mind was racing with panic. He had to find Ana. Phara would be fine. She was gone on errands. But Ana was there. The only one who gave a care about him. He had to do something.
The bike slowed down as they neared the fires. As Jamie hopped off, Roadhog grabbed his arm.
"What?! I gotta go!"
"You know what yer doing?"
Jamie paused for a moment before shaking his head. "Me nan's in there. Only person who cares if I'm dead or not." With that, he pulled his arm out of the giant's loosening grip and ran off toward Ana's trailer.
Roadhog tapped his fingers on his handlebars, internally struggling with whether or not he should help the brat out. By the quiet rumbling his bike was making, he could tell that the kid did a good job- even if he only had one arm. That kind of skill was becoming harder to find out in the wasteland. But it wasn't like he could offer him a gig. What, have him travel around with him? He didn't even have sidecar. No, it was ridiculous. But something made him waver. He could at least help him knock some raider skulls together. He did only have one arm after all.
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It wasn't until he found himself nearly in the fray that it dawned on Jamie that explosives might not be the best weapon in a more closed in area. He might end up doing more harm than help. Oh well, no backing down now.
Racing through the burning town, he stumbled upon where Ana's trailer should've been. Instead of a van and trailer, deep grooved tire tracks lead away from the wreckage. Ana was gone. She must've left right after she hailed him over the radio.
"Well, now. Somebody finally showed up."
Jamie swerved to his right, locking eyes with a scruffy, reedy looking stranger. The number of raiders slowly grew until a decent sized group had him surrounded.
"We were startin' ta think we hit a ghost town," the stranger grinned ferally, "What, with all the lack of people around. Looks like you're one of them few who missed the run and hide memo, gimpy."
It was now that Jamie realized that maybe running over here wasn't the best of ideas. Ana was fully capable of defending herself, he'd seen all the guns she had up on the wall. I'm an idiot! he cursed to himself And now it's gonna get me killed.
"Listen, fellas," Jamie grinned nervously, "I seem to have stumbled upon the wrong...moment here. While I may-or may not- protest to the burning of this nowhere town, I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I just headed on my way."
Coward than hero, any day, he reminded himself. Unless family's involved- he added- but family's out of danger so focus on saving yer own hide, ya idjit.
"I think we do mind," the reedy individual narrowed his eyes, "I think unless you hand over everything you have on you, and maybe tell us where we can find more goods, then you're looking for a face full of fist."
Jamie gritted his teeth. On one hand, he'd rather get out of this alive. But on the other, he wasn't about to hand over a bag of homemade explosives and point them in the direction of the next closest settlement. Not that he knew of one anyway.
It's not being a hero if I'm just looking out for myself, he reasoned.
"Sorry, mates," he finally said, gripping his backpack, "But as you can see, I haven't all that much on me other than a few belongings. Just trinkets really, nothing you'd be interested in."
"I think we'll judge for ourselves," the leader glowered.
"Fine. See for yourselves, suckers."
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Roadhog had made up his mind by the first explosion. The kid hadn't gotten off scot free from the first homemade grenade he'd witness, and he seriously doubted that the brat had gained any common sense since then. Parking his bike and following the loud booms of the blonde kid's explosives, he made his way through the burning remains of the small wasteland town.
When he homed in on the source, chaos was already high in session. He caught a body flying past him, tossing it aside when he didn't recognize it as the mechanic.
Waving a hand to disperse the smoke, he found his way over the kid's pockmarked ground zero.
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Jamie rubbed his tongue over the fresh and bloody gap in mouth. This guy knew how to hit.
He was currently pinned to the ground. The raider leader had busted his fake leg and did a lot more once Jamie had run out of explosives. Laying in the sandy grit with one heavy knee pressing into his chest and the other on his good arm, Jamie was pretty sure that he was much more than screwed at this point.
"If you weren't such a smart mouth," the raider spat, flipping out a rusted knife, "I might've given killing you a reconsideration."
"Is that your entire vocab, mate?" wheezed Jamie, "Cause that would be down right impressive. The whole "reconsideration" must have boosted your IQ from a 1 to a 5. That's adding four, by the way. In case math isn't as good as your english."
"Do you ever shut up?!" the raider screamed at him, "I have you at knife point and you're using your last breath to insult me?"
"Listen, if ya gonna kill me, you better believe my last words are gonna be insults. Real low hanging fruit, too, insulting you."
The raider promptly socked him in the face, knocking out another tooth in the process.
Spitting out blood, Jamie looked back at the raider. And then up at the looming mass behind him. He started laughing. Hysterically. Looking back at the raider, he noticed the knife was no longer in his hand. Looking down he saw that it was actually embedded in his stomach.
"Well," he blinked, "That's not very nice."
"Just die already!"
"...I'm gonna pass out."
And then a weight was lifted off of him. He heard the raider scream but it sounded like he was listening to it under water. He reached for the knife.
"Don't touch that."
Jamie looked up, making wobbly eye contact with the huge pink bandana man.
"You'll bleed out faster, idiot."
"Oh."
Oh? He had a knife in his stomach and all he could say was Oh?! He layed back down.
"Ugh where is Fareeah when I need her," Jamie groaned, "Got a freaking rusty knife stickin' out of me stomach."
"Wait- who?"
Jamie sighed, "What's it to ya? Frickin Phara, my big sis. Well, not biologically. But she and nan are the only family I 'ave here in the miserably wasteland. In Oz. The world. Lot tougher than me. Nicer looking too, but don't tell 'er I said so, 'kay? She'd never let it go. Been thinking about getting a tattoo like them, under the eye and all. But I think it might be a cultural thing but I haven't ask Ana yet. Should do that."
Roadhog tuned out the ramblings, he'd ask questions later. Right now he had an idiot to save.