(At night, that same day)

It was already dark when they landed, yet the streets at the city centre were still full of life and people dancing, eating, and having a good time overall. Reinhardt limped slightly by Ana's side, hands on his pockets, shirt impossibly creased.

He had been very quiet during the flight back, and so had been Ana. He had said he was not angry at her, but he was angry–which meant he was hurting over something, and she could not pinpoint what it was. At least, she knew it was not the news about Jack and Gabriel, since he went straight looking for a fight with the man for a completely different reason. Really, she would have punched the light out of both idiots, but she was not sure if her darts would take Jack down.

Jack. She sighed. He was being stubborn beyond measure. Even if she understood his need for closure with Gabriel, trying to take him in alone –him, and his partners at Talon– was stupid and a suicide. Besides, Gabriel, he– it was impossible to say what he had turned into. She had seen it with her own eyes, and still could believe. Her mind had actually erased most of the details, because he was just not human.

It did not matter, though. He was her oldest friend, even if they all had their ups and downs with him during the last years of Overwatch, and she was determined to either help him or put him out of his shadowy misery. Any ending would hopefully help Jack find some peace as well.

Then, and only then, they could try to take down Talon.

Ana grabbed Reinhardt's arm when he was about to wander into an undesirable street and headed him towards a hotel that had always been around. It was old and poorly painted, but it was also extremely discreet –which was exactly what they needed. The clerk at the front desk was a bit skeptical of them, even disapproving, but some extra money up-front granted them a pair of keys and a small room with a window.

"I wish you would talk to me other than to ask for food," she said, sitting on the corner of the bed and taking off her sandals. "I cannot fix what I don't know is broken, you know."

He sat at the bed by her side, making the mattress comb and moan pitifully. With a sigh, he got up again.

"I've been thinking of a story," he said, pushing some furniture away to clear a corner of the floor, where he sat leaning against the wall.

"A story?" Ana picked up the pillows, gave them to him so he would get comfortable.

"I can tell you, if you'd humour me despite my poor mood today…" He looked at her in the eye for the first time in what felt centuries, and Ana sit down by his side, legs crossed. His anger seemed to have lost its edge, but the hurt and sadness were still stubbornly wrapped around him. "Sorry. I'm–"

"Hush now," She reached out for one of his hands and massaged it, feeling tension everywhere on him. If she had learned anything about Reinhardt in their many years together, it was that his stories were never just stories. They were pieces of him, of his friends, of his past– and his present, sometimes. It was rare, though, that he would not discuss directly what was bothering him, but she would take anything that stopped a silent mood any day. "I'd love to hear it."

"Once upon a time, the evil Bishop of Adlersbrunn framed a knight unjustly. He managed to escape from the public execution, but he lost everything he held dear but a little falcon," he said, his voice rumbling softly on his chest.

"Was he a handsome knight? With great hair?"

"Of course," he snorted softy. He took his hand away just to grab her waist and pull her against his chest. Then, he squeezed her softly, sighing under his breath. "One day, at a tavern, the knight overheard someone saying they had escaped from Adlersbrunn's prison, which the Bishop commanded. The Bishop had men everywhere and they tried to apprehend the escapee the moment he opened his big mouth. His beer ruined by the ruckus, the knight fought them all and prevented it."

"He ok? He just saved an escapee… That's not very knight-esque"

"Ah, but he had his reasons. He wanted to get into the Bishop's prison during the eclipse that was due in a fortnight–and the escapee could help him get inside."

"Oh, I see," she kept playing the part of the interested listener, lacing her fingers on his. "I guess he wanted revenge."

"The escapee wanted nothing with the knight, though, and he fled. And that same night, the Bishop's men tried to murder him while on the road. Fortunately for him, a large grey wolf came to his rescue."

"A wolf?"

"The escapee was more terrified of the wolf than of his assassins, but then a lady appeared from the woods. She was beautiful like no one else, her long hair braided over her shoulder. She touched the creature on the head, melting any trace of anger from it, and the wolf rubbed against her side before lying at her feet."

"She has some nice powers, I see…"

"The lady told the escapee that, if he helped the knight, in return they would keep him safe from the Bishop," he hid his nose on the top of her hair and remained silent for a moment, shifting slightly. "The lady and the wolf stayed with him for the night, then disappeared– just for the knight and his falcon to catch up on the road on the morning."

"Isn't that a coincidence…?" Ana looked up, searching for his face, one eyebrow raised. He just smiled a bit, and kept talking.

"The Bishop's men were really troublesome, you know. Days later, as the little company traveled towards the prison, they ambushed them on the road."

"Oh, no."

"The knight fought valiantly despite getting injured on a leg, but… When the fight was over, his falcon was lying on the ground, a bolt on its chest. He thought it was dead," his voice had lowered, softened, and Ana squeezed his arms around herself, "but there was a flutter of life left on its little body. There was a monastery close by, a place of sanctuary where it lived one of the few friends the knight had, and he sent the escapee there with the falcon, praying his monk friend could do something to help it."

"Why is the falcon so important to him?"

"Because it's his companion. The only thing he could take with him when–" Reinhardt gasped in pain, his hand clawing at his right thigh all of sudden. The muscles on his leg spasmed quite visibly and he groaned among teeth. Ah, damn. Ana pulled the trousers' leg up as much as it went and worked the cramping muscles and ligaments for several long minutes until he let go a shaky sigh.

At least he was not clad on his armour.

"You really need to do something about this."

"Yeah, stop falling on it, for starters," he chuckled without humour, but his hand reached out for her cheek before she could even feel guilty. "Can't afford the surgery, anyway."

She grabbed the pillow he had been using, doubled it over, and placed his knee slightly bent over it. He did his best to contain a wince, and she rubbed the angry muscles into submission once again.

"I could procure it."

"You're not stealing for this. Absolutely not," he glared, impossibly serious. "It's fine. I'm not jumping off any building or charging unless I really need to."

That would solve nothing if it got bad in the middle of a fight, but he knew that–just as she knew he would keep fighting even if he could not bear any weight on it.

"What about Angela?"

"Ah, she would not approve."

"She doesn't need to approve anything," she snorted. Ana would use her biotic rifle whatever the doctor likes it or not, after all. "She just has to perform the surgery again."

"I'd rather not bother her, really," he made a face, and Ana then remembered she had been in favour of his retirement. That left her without much choice. She would have to find the funds for the knee replacement somewhere. But meanwhile…

"I'll go to the reception to get you some ice, unless you want my rif–"

"No," his arms wrapped tightly around her, and she could feel his still-fast heartbeat against her, his warmth engulfing her like a living entity. "Need to finish the story, first."

So, it was that important. Ana had an idea about where the story was going, but she could not fathom how it tied up with their present selves, yet.

"Fine, then," she rubbed his arms. "What happened to the falcon?"

"The escapee brought it to the monastery, where the knight's friend bandaged it," he continued, letting go of her a little bit. "But, at night, the escapee noticed something amazing: the falcon turned into the beautiful lady, injury and all."

"So, the wolf is the knight? And, ah–he's in love with the falcon. The lady, I mean," she smiled, and he snorted softly.

"Yes. But the Bishop was in love with her, too. In his jealousy, he cursed them both to be together but apart. He would be human during the day and wolf at night; and the opposite for her."

Now, that was an interesting take on their lives.

"But, how are they getting back to their normal selves?"

"Well…" He shifted again under her. "The only way to break the curse was to face the Bishop during the eclipse, which was the only time the knight and the lady could see each other in their human form."

"Ah, that's why he wanted to get into the prison by then."

"They had been waiting for years now. Many years. It was now or never," his breath was warm on the top of her head, his large hands rested on her lap, with her hands. "And so there they went, to Adlersbrunn's prison, the falcon, the escapee, the monk, and the knight and… well."

Ana looked up to his face when he stopped talking. He was pursing his mouth in a way his whiskers stood up.

"So… how does it end?"

"I don't know," he took one of her hands. "It's been many years. Is what brought them together in the first place strong enough, or are they too changed now? They've got used to live in a different way. They know different people, have… attachments. Different goals. Allegiances to take care of."

Reinhardt stopped talking, but his thumb kept caressing her hand. Ana bit her lower lip. So he was worried they had grown apart during these years, not in affection, but in everything else.

"Are we that different, you think? It's true I am an outlaw. But I have been trying to do good wherever I have been– healing others, helping instead of killing. And is not that what you had been doing while traveling around with Brigitte?"

He nodded softly.

"And I still have the same goal I've always had," she got on her knees to be able to look at him in the eye. "I want to keep my family safe. Fareeha. You. Torb, Brigitte, Winston, Lena, Jess–"

"Yet you never came back because of any of us, nor because of Overwatch," he said, rubbing his hair, leaving it half in silver spikes. "You just wanted to help Jack, get Gabriel back."

There was the anger again, dressed as the bleeding wound of always having felt like second-class. Ana wished, really wished, that her stupid super-soldiers had friends, someone that watched their backs just like Reinhardt had–but Jack would never trust anyone again, and Gabriel… oh, Gabriel.

"Yes," Ana took a deep breath, nodded. "Something happened to both of them when the building blew up. You saw Jack, and Gabriel is not even himself," her fingers curled over his arms. "If I don't help them, who will?"

"Yeah, well," he snorted. Or sighed. It sounded sad and defeated. "I guess you were never meant to come back to us."

"Overwatch will never be Overwatch without them, not for me– But that doesn't mean I'm going anywhere."

"And what will happen when both Jack and us need you? Who would you choose, then?"

"Reinhardt–"

"I'd never cut your falcon wings, maus, but I need to know," his voice almost cracked, and she closed her eye for a moment.

Her poor crusader.

She was guilty of pushing him away, yes. Guilty of loving her two stupid super-soldiers almost as much as she loved him. Guilty of choosing them over him many times to keep him out of her mind. But, no more. She had made her last pick but, apparently, she had not been clear enough about it. That, or he had thirty years of good reasons to believe she would forsake him.

"Growing old has taught me that relationships are one half trust, one half compromise. Or maybe it was one half promises and one half truths," she shrugged. "Something like that. Truth is, I can't give up on that pair of old idiots," she said slowly, feeling his arms tense under her fingers. "I hope you can understand that."

He nodded, looking down. Silent. Ana bit her lip and took his face on his hands, caressed his scarred cheek. Being this honest was making her hair gray even further, but she owed him that much.

"Overwatch is important to you. It is the embodiment of your family, I understand that. And I hope we can find a compromise between your family and my family since, well," he looked up, a speckle of hope on his eyes, and she smiled. "I would like very much to stay by your side, for all the time you want me. Which I hope is lots."

He leaned on her touch as Ana scratched his beard softly, waiting. There was a time he had been a very vocal, straightforward, eager person– now things took a bit more time. Some things, at least.

"How can I trust a sniper?" He said, looking at her in the eye, his voice barely a murmur. "You've no honour."

"That's true," Ana wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "So I'll hold on to you until you believe me."

Reinhardt grabbed her in a bear hug, all the tension on his body melting against her. It felt right. She was in the right place, in the right moment, with the right person. He was the right choice, and her old, squeezed bones could not agree more.

"I'd like nothing more."

~Fin


And then, after some time, some more discussions, and many more hugs, he went back to being the loud crusader he's in game.

For all those that don't know their classics, Rein's story is LadyHawke.