It is a pretty hard strike, sandwiching her hand between his forehead and the rock face--she'd be able to feel the scuffed-up skin on his forehead, and the sweat on her hand makes it sting to him. But it's enough to get him to stop, and he opens his eyes to look up at her hand.

After a beat, he sighs.

"Need ta take a breather..." he says quietly, then brings down his left arm to rest his forearm against a crag so he can flex the cramp out of his hand. His fake arm is doing just fine, shoulder used to hauling around both his heavy prosthetic and frag launcher, but his real arm and leg are having to pick up the slack from a leg that almost literally can't pull its own weight.

All this for something they really don't need to do. He could just blow it all up to hell, but...Junkrat glances at Fareeha out of the corner of his eye.