"Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"
Brigitte Lindholm didn't often think about a saying in a dead language, but that saying had been popping into her head since Overwatch's fall. Recent events have allowed the saying to appear more frequently in her thoughts. It started with those Dragons...no, it started when Reinhardt chose to battle the gang terroizing a town they were in for supplies.
"Maybe we should sit this one out." Birigtte told Reinhardt as she helped him to the van. The gang had beaten him, and had they not threatened innocents Reinhardt would have fought them off, God knows he could. "Let somebody else take care of things for once." But Reinhardt only shook his head.
"As you said, the local authorities have no power anymore." Reinhardt said. "There is no one else."
She hated to admit it then, but he was right, there literally was no one else to fight off that gang. No one able, or willing to do what law enforcement was no longer able or willing to do themselves. Still she wanted him safe. He'd told her stories all her life about the honor and glory of heroism, but it wasn't until she started traveling with him that she saw for herself there was more to being a hero than defeating villans, rescuing innocents and going on quests. To be a hero was to give everything to others, without regard or gain for yourself. To be fair, for all his exaggeration, Reinhardt did tell her that being a hero wasn't easy—unless the hero had money on them, they often went cold and hungry. She lost count on how many odd jobs she did to earn what they needed, how often she had to haggle to get the parts and provisions they required. Sometimes they were lucky and were able to cash in on bounties, but only when things were dire and even then, the cause had to be just—they weren't doing this for a paycheck or laud, after all.
"Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"
The saying popped into her head more often when they were in the ruins of Eichenwalde. The Recall had been sent out, despite the PETRAS Act forbidding Overwatch activities. What the hell was Winston thinking? Stupid, idealistic gorilla. Couldn't he see that the world doesn't want heroes anymore? The worst part was Reinhardt considering answering in the affirmative. Why? Why would any of them go back to fighting for a world that doesn't care? Who would destroy them in ways worse than death if given the opportunity? Look at Reinhardt, who spent years in battle and gave all of himself only to face mandatory retirement from combat. She remembered Papa being incensed about it, and while he himself was four years away from that same retirement at the time, at least he had her and Mama and all of her siblings and the children they had. Reinhardt had no one but them, he never settled down for reasons of his own.
"I thought we talked about this. You don't have to do this anymore. Winston's message wasn't meant for you. This isn't your fight." Brigitte said as they were in a bar in the abandoned town. Reinhardt didn't answer, he just stared at the Overwatch medal in his hand. "Papa told me, after so many years of service. You gave Overwatch everything, and then they pushed you out. Why would you go back to them? What are they still fighting for?"
Reinhardt was still silent and they walked through the town, and it was here that Reinhardt told her the one story he never told—the story of how the Crusaders died in the Battle of Eichenwalde, all but him. He told the story on how, as a young man with dreams of glory, he threw himself into battle with abandon. They walked as he told the story on how the OR-14s were deployed, older models then, the ones with the energy sword; it was one such sword that cost Reinhardt his eye, after he recklessly charged at it, more reckless because he didn't wear the helm then due to "loving the feel of the wind in my hair". They walked until they reached the castle, and the throne room where the remains of Reinhardt's mentor and friend, Balderich von Adler, was seated on the stone throne. Brigitte watched as Reinhardt stood before the throne in silent reverence, then placed the medal on the arm and turned to her.
"I have been called." He said, turning to her. "I must answer. Always."
"Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"
It was all she could think about as they walked back to the van. Reinhardt, and Overwatch, protected the world—protected the innocent. There were mistakes made, and those mistakes were what caused the people to lose faith in them. Those same mistakes tore Overwatch apart, Commanders Morrison and Reyes were pitted against each other because of those mistakes and the tensions between them only escalated after the loss of Captain Amari, until a terrible fight blew up the Swiss HQ. To prevent further turmoil, the UN shut down Overwatch, revoked the charter and made it illegal for them to act under that banner. It didn't stop Reinhardt, who traveled the world fighting injustice; it didn't stop Mercy, who last Brigitte checked was volunteering her services in war-torn areas. It didn't stop any of them from doing what was right, and though those in Overwatch defended the world in their own way, who defended them?
"Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?" Who watches the watchers? Who guards the guardians? The saying was created and meant to be interpreted in terms of oversight, but Brigitte saw another interpretation—who protects the protectors? In the van, watching Reinhardt sleep, she made a decision. She thought she wanted to be a mechanic, like her father, but with more a focus on armor and defense. But she had been thinking more and more of being a bigger presence on the battlefield, at Reinhardt's side. In the morning, she would ask him to train her in combat, and in the mean time she would build her own armor. It wouldn't be as vast as Reinhardt's, nor would her shield be like his, but it would be a shield.
"You will be their shield, gudfader, just as you have always been." Brigitte whispered. "But now? I will be your shield."