A/N: Trying to figure out/come up with Torbjorn's family has been quite the chore. I don't think even Blizzard knows beyond that 'Reflections' comic xD Take this storyline with a grain of salt, and if anything ever gets confirmed, come back and chuckle at how wrong I was :p


"Okay," Brigitte cheerfully muttered with a low voice, "So just so we're on the same page…"

The three of them had made it back to the home of Torbjörn Lindholm, one of the premiere weapons architects of the original Overwatch regime. Still in the trawler, the three huddled together near the furnace before heading into the home, Brigitte wanting to make sure everything was in order, seeing as how her freedom for the holiday was on the line.

"So, our key player is Jamison," she nodded, as Mei and Jamison himself both nodded, though the latter did it with a nervous movement, "Mother likes to dote on newcomers, so while she's getting to know Jamison, he'll do something to keep her attention off me, who will have already been banished to her room, still grounded. Then I'll sneak out back into the trawler; I'm pretty sure father won't have any issue with me tagging along, anyway; he'll just recount his own spunky youth or something."

"Awesome!" Mei shouted in reply turning to Jamieson as her shoulder leaned over to nudge his, "You're good with that, Jamie?"

He frowned in thought, "Well, about that, eh…'keeping her attention off you'…"

Brigitte lowered her gaze in thought, "I mean, you'll just have to be ready for anything, really. Some of my siblings are here, their kids; I mean, we've got three generations of Lindholm running around in there; I know Mei said you were creative."

Jamison's shoulders fell, "So you want me ta' blow 'em up?!"

Brigitte leaned backward, frightfully, as Mei giggled, wrapping an arm around the man, "No, just- You'll have a lot of opportunities. Brigitte is good, herself; even if you're not able to pick up the slack, she'll find her way around it."

"Yeah, unless one of my siblings catches me," Brigitte groaned, "I swear, if Andenon sees me, he'll sell me out faster than those jävlar that burn down the Gävle Goat every chance they get!"

Mei wondered, quickly, "How many siblings do you-"

"Eight," Brigitte answered easily, "Andenon, me, Caileigh, Daelyn, Earvin, Faine, Gael, Hana, and Idris. Father likes to say he started sleeping outside on nights of the full moon, and that's how he learned to have boys later on."

Jamison rubbed his arms to warm them up, "Wait, some of those were boys names?"

Brigitte sighed, "Boy, girl, girl, girl, boy, boy, boy, girl, boy. Now let's get a move on! They heard us return; they're gonna get suspicious!"

Mei nodded as the three of them jumped up to their feet as Brigitte returned to the control panel to shut of the last remnants of power while Mei help Jamison complete his wrapping. She grabbed the last coat of his and helped his hands through the arms before reaching for one of his two scarves.

"Sorry," she muttered to him, half-heartedly, "I wasn't intending for you to put yourself out there like this."

"Ahh," Jamison shook his head, "It's no big deal, sheila. I'm happy ta help with you with anything; you know that. If it weren't for you, I don't even know where I'd be right now."

Mei grinned, "Probably not freezing to death."

He peered off, unsure, before nodding, "Well ya got me there! Don't worry about it; I'll be fine."

"Alright," Mei nodded with a smile, wrapping the top of his head with the first scarf, stopping just above his eyes before grabbing the second one, starting at his neck and working her way up.

She paused for a moment, earning a confused glance from Jamison as he smiled down at her, "What is it?"

"Nothing," she muttered, simply, "Just wanted to see that smile for a bit."

Jamison immediately felt his face burning with a sudden blush, though Mei grinned as she quickly covered the rest of his face, "That oughta keep you warm."

He couldn't nod through his nerves, but Mei quickly grabbed his arms and pulled him down lower so that she could kiss his closed eye, which was the only thing exposed by now. She let him return to his proper stance as the two of them heard a disgusted groan from Brigitte, who was finishing with yanking on her own coat.

"And mom says I'm missing out," she muttered, sarcastically, "Okay children, let's rock this puppy!"

She suddenly threw a kick into the door, launching it into the snowy air as it violently slammed against the metallic shell of the large snowmobile, allowing her to jump down into the soft snow below, turning to help the others do the same, catching Mei while helping Jamison crawl down the few bits of handles that weren't meant as a ladder.

"Watch out," Brigitte warned through her zipped up hoody, "With fourteen people here waiting for us, the house has-"

The door of the massive home blew open as a man, about Brigitte's age, suddenly flew out from its interior, stumbling to regain his footing as he slid off the porch, crashing into the snow. Another man ran to the door after him, clutching the door frame as he stopped, laughing heartily at the sight, shaking his head.

"C'mon, Gael! If you can't take that, how're you gonna make the team!" he shouted as the three newcomers walked up toward the porch, out of his sight.

The man digging his way out of the snow, Gael, stared at him angrily, "No. Pads! What'd you think would happen, jävla snorunge."

The young man at the door only chuckled to himself as he shook his head, finally noticing the three approaching him from the side, turning his head over his shoulder back into the house, "Mamma! Besökare!"

Brigitte stepped onto the porch, helping Mei up through the dense snow, before turning to her brother at the door, crossing her arms, "En liten hjälp, kanske?"

"What for?" he answered, teasingly, "Your coat hides your muscles, but I know they're there. Who're they?"

Groaning, Brigitte shook her head, "Look, there's, like, fifteen people here, I'm not going to do fifty introductions. We're going to get everybody together and then I'll just do one introduction."

"Suit yourself," the man answered, shrugging, before giving a quick salute to the two visitors.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Gael had hopped back onto the porch and made a mad dash toward him, tackling him hard as the two flew back into the house, a loud *CRASH* breaking through the air as Brigitte groaned, turning toward her companions.

"See why I went traveling?" she sighed, drolly.

From out of nowhere, before the two could reply, a loud, deeply feminine voice tore through the house, "GAEL! FAINE!"

Brigitte groaned, "Well, meet mother, I suppose."

Jamison shared a quick glance toward Mei, who returned the same sort of worried expression, before Brigitte moved along, unzipping her hood as the three entered into the home. The two men were wrestling through the living room, having knocked over an end table and sending a lamp flying, which must have been the crash. Brigitte helped the two store their coats in a nearby closet before shooting around once her mother's stomping could be heard.

The middle-aged woman quickly pounced onto the two men who were fighting one another on the ground, the mother throwing punches herself as she shouted in Swedish. She quickly managed to get one of them onto their stomachs, using one arm to subdue them, while fending off the other young man with her other arm, quickly taking ahold of his collar and yanking him toward the ground before subduing him as well.

"Well?!" she shouted, "What do you two have to say for yourselves?!"

"Sorry." Sorry." they both answered, weakly, though their mother didn't release them.

She only growled back, "Now, you two are going to clean this mess up. The hockey team was supposed to expel your energy out on the ice, not in the house!"

"Yes." "Yes, mother." came two more weak replies.

Finally, the mother sighed in relief, using the two's bodies to push herself up to her feet, shaking her head in disbelief as she turned away, coming face to face with her visitors. She suddenly groaned, rolling her head around her shoulders before rubbing her face, approaching the tree with her head hung low.

"I do apologize," she spoke up, dejectedly, "Normally, our guests don't see that until much later."

"Oh, no!" Mei shouted, spiritedly, "You showed 'em what for! It was rather inspiring!"

The older woman grinned, "Well, if you do say so. I'm sorry, I didn't get your names. I'm Odelia Lindholm, mother of the youth beside you who enjoys making me weep."

Brigitte rolled her eyes, though Mei went on as if nothing was out of the ordinary, "I'm Mei-Ling Zhou! but please just call me Mei, and this here is Jamison Fawkes! He's my assistant of sorts."

"Assistant?" Odelia wondered, wondrously, "So you're my husband's co-worker?"

"Yes indeed!" Mei shouted, happily, "Is the Torbmeister here?"

Odelia watched her, curiously, as Mei quickly jumped in shock, covering his mouth worriedly, remembering that such nicknames were often left at work, though she quickly pointed toward Jamison, nervously, "Uh- Jamie, here, works with us, too!"

"Really?" the older lady went along, giving Mei room for a relieved sigh, "And you two aren't wanting to take my dear, sweet, eldest daughter off like Wilhelm, are you?"

Thinking it to be too much to have her two companions lie so blatantly, Brigitte quickly spoke up, feigning worry, "Oh my goodness; Faine! Don't stick that glass into the fire!"

Her mother whipped around as Faine angrily shot a glare toward Brigitte, "What, are you daft?! What does it look like I'm-!"

Still, Odelia was in no mood to argue after the wrestling match, and she immediately charged toward the two young men on the ground, "I don't know, but I'm about to find out!"

Brigitte sighed, relieve, turning to Mei and Jamison with a shrug, "It's a dog-eat-dog world here. If I'm not throwing my siblings under the bus, they're throwing me under."

The two guests shared another glance, probably glad they neither of them had siblings of their own. Brigitte waved them along, deeper into the house as she led them toward the single door to the basement, which served as her father's workshop. They could even catch the sight of smoke emanating from beneath the door.

"Well, we know he's home," Brigitte sighed, reaching for the door handle, "He built a chimney down there, but he does so much, it doesn't handle all of what all he's-"

Suddenly, the door went flying, slamming as violently into the wall as the door to the trawler, a portly, thick leg emanating through the thick smoke before it pulled back into obscurity with a large *thump* against the ground. Brigitte took a step backward, slightly dazed by how close the door had been to hitting her, though she ultimately sighed as her father exited the basement, stomping along with blackened goggles, unable to see as he dusted himself off.

"WELL THAT DIDN'T WORK!" he yelled out, forcing Mei to cover her ears while Jamison recoiled in surprise.

The man pulled the earplugs from his ears and yanked off his goggles, his face immediately beaming in disbelief as he noticed Mei, his arms throwing themselves outward as he happily shouted, "Well if it ain't Mei best colleague! Come 'ere!"

Mei immediately jumped into his arms, the two sharing a hug as he happily shouted, "So good seeing you again! It's been so long!"

"Yeah, well…" Torbjörn groaned, "You know I was already on the outs of that organization before it was disbanded. After that, it just allowed me to seclude myself up here. It's been nice; I hadn't much of a chance to be with my family before then! Now, who's this?"

"J-Jamison Fawkes, sir!" he saluted, nervously, "Mei has so many stories about you, sir!"

Torbjörn eyed him, seriously, as Mei spoke up in explanation, "Ha ha, I told him about your exploits during the Omnic Crisis. He was rather thrilled with what you were able to do on the fly."

Jamison shook nervously as he asked, politely, "Is it true that you simply pounded metal into armor on the run and just outfitted your team by sticking it onto their bodies?!"

Torbjörn chuckled, "Well, ya make do with what ya can. It took a keen eye though; I had to mold what I had into my memories of everybody's body shape without them staying still. Thank goodness Wilhelm kept his armor; I shudder at that thought…"

"Wooooow," Jamison marveled, his eyes glazing over at the sound of Torbjörn's tales.