Disclaimer: Overwatch and all characters associated belong to Blizzard Entertainment.
Much special thanks to SupremeDistraction for helping me with title, summary, proof-reading, and everything in-between! Love you, hon.
Something Greater Than Judgment
"How are you holding up, Squire?"
A tall, auburn-haired woman scoffed from behind the giant man with a playful expression. "Much better than you, I imagine."
The bearded man let out a hearty laugh as they trekked the lengthy path through Switzerland's remote forest. "Good to hear! Can't have my companion bested by a little stroll, after all."
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her lips indicated anything but annoyance. "I have followed you for years, Reinhardt. This is nothing."
The man – Reinhardt Wilhelm – smiled at her and slowed his steps to allow the girl to catch up, patting her on the back as she did. "In all seriousness, how are you holding up, Brigitte?"
The redhead giggled. "I'm alright. I'm excited and, in all honesty, a bit nervous. Joining Overwatch is a big deal after all."
"I know. I felt just as you did, once, but before you know it it'll be like a second home."
Overwatch: the International Task Force—an army created by the United Nations to preserve world peace. Nearly every country on Earth was represented and ready to help. Despite being forced to shut down and disbanded years ago, the Elite Strike Unit had recently – roughly 2 years ago this coming May – been reinstated and was gradually becoming what it once was. The headquarters that had previously been destroyed was now rebuilt and it was time to answer the call.
"I'm surprised at you, though." He turned to the young woman. "I remember that you tried to talk me out of joining it again."
"I was sceptical," Brigitte said plainly. "But with Dad joining as well, how could I not? I set out with you to help make a difference in the world – to help the defenceless. I'll go where you go."
The German nodded in acknowledgment as they reached their destination. A short distance away stood the newly constructed Overwatch Headquarters, as proud and mighty as Reinhardt remembered it to be.
"So…This is it, huh?" The young woman crossed her arms. "This is where our adventure ends."
"Yet it will be the start of so many others," the old man replied. "Come. Your father should have arrived long before us. Don't want to keep him waiting!"
Brigitte smiled and nodded as she followed her godfather.
x.x.x
The massive building was even more impressive up-close. While it was in its final stages, it was still under construction and workers and engineers roamed about. The white walls were slightly intimidating and the massive grey gates didn't help, but one thing was for certain.
It looked secure.
Brigitte stared in awe, not solely at the building but at the engineering equipment – real state of the arts high-tech stuff – and she didn't even notice the short man running up to her at full speed.
"Brigitte, mitt kära barn!" he exclaimed as he hugged his daughter, the old German laughing at them both. His Swedish was rusty at best, but it was clear that it was a father embracing his child even if you didn't know the language. "Jag har inte sett dig på evigheter!"
"Pappa!" The redhead returned the hug, comically lifting her old man and swinging him around like it was nothing. "Jag har saknat dig så jävla mycket…!"
Reinhardt cleared his throat. "I know you've missed each other, but come now, don't leave me out of the conversation."
The short man guffawed and waved his mechanical arm at the larger male. "Reinhardt, my friend! It's good to see you again!"
"It's been too long, Torbjörn," he replied, smiling widely. "How are you, my diminutive Swedish friend?"
"Never better! With Overwatch back in action, I get to work on new weapons. Even helped with the security systems this time around…With help from Helix Security International…" he added with a grumble. "Anyway, let's not stand around here wagging tongues. Allow me to show you around, Brigitte!"
"Oh, Ja! If it's anything like the old headquarters, it's going to take half a day to show the lass around," Reinhardt said with a laugh. "The Evaluation facility, Training facility, the hangar bay, the science laboratories, engineering facilities—"
"Less talking, more showing." Torbjörn beckoned them to follow him. "It'll take half a day to let you finish your babbling, friend."
"What was that? It's hard to hear you all the way down there!"
The young woman giggled. Her father and godfather could be a handful at times but she loved them all the same.
And at the prospect of visiting the engineering facility, Brigitte was more than a little eager.
x.x.x.x
The entrance way was spacious and high in ceiling, the white interior serving to give one a sense of calm as they stepped inside. Several large metal doors, sliding by nature, marked several wings and quarters with beautifully framed black text.
One of which read ´Medical Wing´.
The brunette's heart skipped a quick beat.
"You alright, lass?" The German was suddenly standing before her, his expression that of concern.
´Skaka loss det, Brigitte.´
"I'm fine, Reinhardt. Just…"
Sounds reverberated with the amount of people passing by the entrance, but the Swiss accent of a woman's voice momentarily alarmed the redhead, her heart skipping a beat. Could it be…?
"Just?" her father inquired.
Quick thinking was in order. "This." She gestured at the room around them. "Is a lot to take in. I mean, I'm about to become an Overwatch agent." It wasn't a lie. The thought had weighed heavily on her mind these past few months.
But more so, a certain person had weighed on her mind – someone Brigitte had wanted to forget, and succeeded in doing so, until she reluctantly had accepted the invitation to join her fathers' organization.
Truth be told, this person was the main reason for her disinclination.
"Of course it is, my dear." Her father patted her arm. "But you will get used to it in no time. It's not that different from traveling with ol´ Rein here – you will just come back here when your mission is done."
That was a comforting thought. Having her dad here helped a lot as well.
As if reading her mind, Torbjörn added, "Och kom ihåg, jag kommer alltid finnas här, älskling."
She smiled and damn it if it didn't make her eyes watery. "Tack, pappa."
"What did I say about leaving me out of conversations?" The former Crusader laughed, clearly not as bothered with it as he seemed to suggest. "But your father is right; he'll always be here for you, as will I! Don't worry, little squire. You will get used to this within a week, I guarantee it."
The brunette giggled and replied—
"Reinhardt!"
All heads suddenly turned. The rapid sound of heels against the stone floor drew closer and, as the giant man shifted out of the way of the Engineer's field of vision, Brigitte's heart nearly jumped out of her chest.
The long, white lab-coat, scarlet pencil-skirt, black stockings, and short-sleeved turtleneck sweater hadn't changed. The woman jogged up to them overjoyed, and chatted with the German Crusader and her Swedish father; her platinum-blonde hair was still in a ponytail, just as the Swede remembered it, and her face – hell, her body-type – could give models a run for their money. A fluttering feeling settled in her guts and Brigitte froze as azure eyes trained on her.
´Fan,´ she swore mentally.
"Brigitte?" The Swiss beamed. "It's really you!" The older woman ran over to her, hugging her. "It's been so long! My, you've grown." Every word out of her mouth was a delightfully accented melody.
The squire struggled for words, pulse hammering in her ears as she fought off the heat that crept over her cheeks and awkwardly reciprocated the embrace. "H-Hej…" She quickly cleared her dry throat. "I m-mean…Hello, Angela…"
´Helvete.´
Angela Ziegler – Field Medic, First Responder, brilliant scientist, gifted doctor…and Brigitte's mentor.
Under the blonde's motherly/big-sisterly care, the auburn-haired youngster had learned everything about medicine and medical technology – technology that had greatly influenced Brigitte's own armour and abilities.
And some time during this tutelage, the Swiss had managed to steal her heart.
Stole it and held it in a vice grip even years later. Brigitte had thought these feelings had been a passing thing. Clearly she had been wrong.
The scent of vanilla – Tea? Maybe. Chocolate? No, the blonde only liked Swiss. – was rich around the good doctor and despite herself, the brunette inhaled it with a pleased sigh, her muscles relaxing for a quick moment. God, she had missed this – more than she cared to admit – and that awareness settled like a stone in her guts. Holding in your emotions like this couldn't be healthy.
The Swiss took a step back after what felt like an eternity, still smiling. "How are you, Brigitte?"
She took a deep breath. "I'm…Well. Thanks." The Swede didn't trust herself with longer sentences for the moment. "And yourself?"
"I have been well, too, thank you!" The blonde laughed softly, the sound almost causing Brigitte to smile. You couldn't help but want to. "Now that I can continue with my research I've been able to advance the boundaries of medical technology. I hear you have designed armour that incorporates this?"
"Well…Yeah." She shrugged, averting her gaze. "Like you said, I incorporated the basics and put my own twist on it. I'm working on Repair Packs as well."
The blonde was beaming at this point. "You have to show me this later! You'll be staying here for a time before you head out to the field, so would you perhaps like to join me in the Medical Facility? I've missed having my apprentice around, you know."
What was it with the fluttering feeling beneath her breast?
Before the redhead could respond her father exclaimed, "That's a great idea, Ziegler! Why not have Brigitte join you tomorrow? It'll be like old times!"
If only she could have gotten away with a glare…
"That sounds lovely." God, her accent really was music to the Swede's ears. "I would love to see you in this armour you have made, Brigitte."
Crimson heat intensified upon her cheeks. "…Yeah. Sure."
"Wonderful! I must return to the office but I'll see you later tonight in the cafeteria." She stepped in for a quick hug before she did the same to the men, long lab-coat fluttering.
Her guardians immediately began to chat about weapons, but Brigitte closed her eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Slow and steady, just ignore the screaming in her head.
She had returned to the hellscape she had sought to avoid at all costs: at Angela's side with the burden of feelings that would never be reciprocated.