Having traveled around all over Europe for the last few years, Reinhardt couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a break. Brigitte would often joke that while his body could still withstand the heat of battle, his mind was waning with every passing year. The old crusader always laughed at that and went on to say that he felt better than ever. Still, sometimes he wondered how much truth there was to his voice, for he did forget about small details from time to time, like how he'd stopped by the same house he was in front of now some months ago, though the reason behind that visits were nothing alike.
The mountain-of-a-man looked up at the house in front of him with his one good eye, wondering if maybe this would work better. It was a last ditch effort to get some answers he wanted—that they all needed.
The home itself was couldn't exactly be called humble for its size, but it still has that homely feeling about it that reminded Reinhardt of the house he grew up in. Brick walls, wooden roof, oak front door, and big windows. Sometimes it was hard to imagine that house like that one still existed with all the technological advances made every day. It wasn't long ago that those architects-folk from Vishkar started constructing whole buildings in seconds. Very modern looking they were, but they certainly couldn't replace a good old home.
Turning to take one last glance at the company he kept, he gave the door a few knocks, knowing that pressing the doorbell was usually a bad idea. It didn't take long before the door opened up, revealing a face Reinhardt was always glad to see. With open arms, he smiled widely at her, hoping he wasn't interrupting anything important. "Mila! It's been too long!"
Their usual greeting was for her to jump into his arms. No matter how old they got, they'd done so since she was a child. He'd even gone so far to prepare himself for it, even if the blonde in front of him wasn't big enough to really make him stumble. Mila's face lit up, her smile spreading wide. It was only until she pushed the door open completely that Reinhardt noticed just why their traditional greeting couldn't happen. Reinhardt chuckled, looking at the bump in her belly. "And I see your family keeps getting bigger and bigger!"
"It's always good to see you, brother," Mila said as she went for a hug, which Reinhardt returned in kind. It felt like ages since he'd last seen his sister. Some still found it strange how the two could get along so well. Despite the many years that separated them, the crusader always thought of the much shorter woman as his younger sister anyways instead of a stranger, as it was common to do when the age gap between family happened. Even with her growing belly, it was hard for him to imagine her as nothing other than that happy little child that would send him letters during the Omnic Crisis. When the two separated, Mila glanced over to the young woman standing behind him. "And I see that you are still dragging Brigitte around."
"Nowhere I wouldn't want to go myself," Brigitte assure Mila before going in for a hug of her own, this one much more gentle in comparison to Reinhardt's. "It's always nice to see you, Mila. I hope we're not intruding."
"Not at all," the blonde reassured her, giving her arm a squeeze before turning to the third figure that was still behind Reinhardt. "And who might this be? A friend of yours, Brigitte? Now, it's rude to not face someone."
This was something the old man had warned about, but there was no way around it. He held his breath as he watched Brigitte nudge the hooded figure of Cayde, who took his time turning. There was a small flinch from Mila when she noticed him, as Reinhardt well knew there would be. Still, she tried not to shy away or make thing awkward, even if it was likely that the omnic took notice of it. Before she could retreat her hand further, Cayde shook her hand in his own gloved one, letting go just as quickly. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Lindholm. My name's Cayde."
There was an awkward silence around them, no one being brave enough to say a word about what happened. It continued like that until Mila shivered. They were in the middle of winter, and the warmth of the house was quickly leaving her, apparently. Reinhardt saw his sister looking towards him a few times, almost as if telling him to get rid of the omnic, but he wasn't about to budge on this one. He knew that Mila had a soft heart, and even if it was an omnic, she wouldn't let anyone wait outside her home like that. With a long sigh that showed her frustration, she ushered them. "Can't have people saying that I'm not a good hostess," she told them quickly. "Boots off my floor. Just had it cleaned."
Reinhardt counted that as the first victory of the uphill battles that were already taking place. No sooner had they passed the threshold of the doorway than his nieces and nephews came around the corner to see who was visiting. In an instant, the old man was bombarded by greetings of "uncle Rein" and by the little ones rushing him for a hug, something they'd taken after their mother. The Crusader laughed and ruffled all their hair, blonde and ginger alike, before the kids turned to greet Brigitte and then looked at Cayde.
"Woah! I've never seen an omnic like that before!" He heard one of the boys say as he looked at the omnic over and over again, running circles around. "Papa doesn't like omnics coming over. Are you a friend of Papa's?"
"Heh," Cayde let out as he crouched down to take a better look at the kid. Reinhardt didn't fail to notice the way Mila reacted once more. Torbjorn had been a bad influence on her about that. Reinhardt could still remember how she used to love omnics back in the day. But with the way Torbjorn talked about them and with the way the world was currently in—some speculated that they were in the brink of a second Omnic Crisis—she'd become more weary of them over the years. "Old Torb-Torb and I go way back. I'm sure he's told you all stories of his good ol' pal Cayde! I used to help him around the forge from time to time with Brigitte back in Zurich all those years ago."
"Papa never mentioned working with an omnic before," said Frieda, the oldest of his nieces. That one had always been the sharpest tool in the box, and the older she got, the more observant she became. It would be no surprise if she went on to become some big named scientist or maybe an engineer like her father. The girl, barely nine, looked at the omnic with suspicion, her eye narrowed and her brow furrowed. "He always says how he hates omnics."
"Cayde used to be the AI that controlled the Swiss Headquarters back in the day," Brigitte clarified as he set a hand on the omnic's shoulder, who looked up at her and gave a thankful nod. Having her vouch for him was better than him trying to convince the skeptical children of his story, given that the woman had been mentored by Torbjorn. "He only got this body a couple of years ago. I can't say that your father liked him very much back then, though."
"You kidding, Freckles? Torb-Torb loved me!" Cayde protested as he went on to stand at his full height, which was still short of that of Brigitte's. The hood he wore seemed to obscure his face as he looked between Frieda and the mechanic, who didn't even try to hide how she rolled her eyes. "He even called me Digi-Toaster."
Frieda laughed, making Reinhardt laugh in turn. He wondered if that'd been Cayde's plan all along, seeing as they all knew that that wasn't a nickname, but an insult. "Papa calls all omnics Toasters!"
"Hey now. Don't you try to take that away from me," said the omnic as he turned sideways. If he could pout at all, Reinhardt was sure that the omnic would be showing one at that moment. Meanwhile, Mila looked more at ease after seeing the interaction and learning more about who Cayde actually was. Long ago, Reinhardt had convinced Jack to go celebrate Christmas with him and Torbjorn. That was around the time Jesse left Blackwatch and made the modifications that made the Cayde who he now was. The Crusader laughed and laughed that day at the stories Jack shared of his "improved" AI, Mila laughing along while Torbjorn tried his hardest not to smile as he recounted his own tales. Oh, how Reinhardt longed for those days…
As he watched his nieces and nephews bombard Cayde with questions and pester Brigitte to play with them, he took the opportunity to have a conversation with his sister, nudging her towards the kitchen so that they could talk in peace. Mila, being the good hostess she'd always been, began to boil some water in the electric kettle he'd gifted her years ago and prepared the cup they would be using for tea. Reinhardt was exploring the kitchen, looking at the new drawings that hung on the fridge and the picture frames that covered the walls when he heard her speak up, her back towards him. "What brings you here, Rein? I love you, brother, you know that. But, what possible reason could you have to bring an omnic to my home? You know better than most how Torbjorn feels about them. If he was home, he wouldn't have let you in."
"He left me no choice," responded the Crusader, his eyes finding the ground very interesting. He knew he was putting her in a difficult position, being between family. A part of him hated himself for doing it, but what else was he supposed to do? "Torbjorn is avoiding me, Mila. I call, but he never answers. He knows it's important, but he's still too prideful to help because an omnic is involved."
"His pride is nothing compared to your stubbornness, Rein. I've told you time and time again that it is time to hang your mantle." She poured the boiling water on the teacups before adding a small bag of tea to each one. Handing one to him, she moved to support herself against her counter, her own cup in hand. It was too bad that there wasn't a kitchen table they could both sit at, and with all the commotion coming from the living room, they wouldn't be able to talk in the dining room. "If not for yourself, you should do it for Brigitte. She's still young, and full of potential. I hear there are many that would benefit from having her around. I'm sure she won't be lacking for job offers or comfort."
Reinhardt frowned. There wasn't a time that the two didn't have this conversation. Years before he was forced to retire, they talked about it too. When he first took off to wander around Europe, dispensing justice to the criminals that terrorized towns, she tried to convince him to stop. And when Brigitte joined him, she did it once more. Why would this time be any different? Rein sipped his own tea, letting the heat of the beverage warm him before letting out a long sigh. "Brigitte is her own woman. If she desires to leave for greener pastures, I will support her. But as long as she chooses to stay and fight, I will have her by my side."
"And you?" Mila asked once more in a low voice, almost a whisper.
"How can I stop? Look at the world around us, sister. People loved Overwatch until they felt too safe. Then they turned their backs against us. Now, Jack's dead and Overwatch disbanded, and the world has suffered for it. No day goes by without a protest breaking out into a riot. There are children out there no older than you own girls that don't see their parents returning home after authorities take things too far. You've heard it too, haven't you? About the Second Omnic Crisis?"
"Is that why you brought an omnic to my home?"
"Cayde holds the key to know why everything is happening, I know it. It is in our grasps, Mila. We could know so many thing! The truth behind Amelie's kidnapping. Why we were never allowed to return to Ecopoint: Antarctica. The cause behind the Slipstream incident. Overwatch was not destroyed because of the actions of Gabriel and Jack during the Zurich Event. It all lead to that. I was forced to retire. Widowmaker killed Ana. Torbjorn wanting to leave Overwatch… and Gabriel and Jack's fight in Zurich. It is all connected, I know! Cayde could tell us everything, but his protocols stop him from doing so. And for that, we need my brother-in-law—my brother in arms—to help us access those files by naming a new Strike-Commander."
Gingerly, his sister set down the teacup on the counter, looking back at him in the eyes. "You are talking about breaking international law, Rein. The Petras Act prohibits any and all Overwatch activities. If you are so curious about all of this, take Cayde to the Defense Director in United Nations. He can overwrite all orders given by Over—"
"That thought crossed our minds as well. But it isn't that simple. Winston thinks that the fall of Overwatch was an inside job directed by the United Nations themselves and other associates. What do you think would happen to the information if they got a hold of it? What would happen to Cayde if they got him? No, dear sister. We cannot trust anyone with this but ourselves."
The two remained quiet for a while. The silence too seemed to spread to the living room, where the sound of the kids playing around was no longer there. Reinhardt didn't think much about it until it was too late. The thumping sound of metal hitting metal rang out throughout the house, followed by another one and then Brigitte yelling. Fearing the worst, Reinhardt set down his teacup on the counter before breaking into a sprint towards the living room. He saw just what he expected, though he wished it hadn't ended up that way. All his nieces and nephews were standing at the far wall, looking towards their father, who held his hammer in his good hand as he fumed. Cayde was on the floor, trying to get up. From the looks of him, Torbjorn took a swing and connected with the omnic's head. Cayde's left optic was shattered and there was a noticeable dent on his head. Meanwhile, Brigitte stood between the short man and the omnic, arms extended to prevent Torbjorn from swinging his hammer again.
"You got a good arm on you, I'll give you that," said Cayde as he staggered trying to get up. Thankfully, Brigitte was already by his side, helping him stand and assessing the damage. "Ever thought about going into baseball? You could get home runs for days."
"I told you to shut up, Cayde," Brigitte chastised as she adjusted her grasp on the omnic. "Stop testing his patience. Do you want another 'good' hit?"
Torbjorn's brow furrowed further, his teeth clenched so hard that they could shatter. "Not as good as it used to be. I wanted to smash that whole piece in, Toaster. Who do you think you are, coming to my home? I don't want your kind anywhere near my family!"
"Not in front of the children," Mila called out, her words laced with worry as she looked at her babies, all of whom looked scared to death. That seemed to put a bit of a leash on the Swede, but the German didn't want to test for how long it would last.
Cayde removed the glove from his right hand. A small projection came out of it, showing the Overwatch logo. "Just need your confirmation code and we'll be on our way. No need to scare anyone else. "
"This again?" Had it not been for the clean floor, Reinhardt knew that his friend would've spat. "You people need to let it go! Overwatch is dead! Jack is dead! No matter what you do, it won't change that."
Reinhardt could see the fire in Torbjorn's eye rising. If he didn't intervene, things could get that much worse. Taking a step forward, he said, "Brigitte, why don't you take our friend back to the van? Check if you can get that dent out of him. Torbjorn and I have things to discuss."
Brigitte said nothing as she looked at the Crusader. Chewing at her bottom lip for a moment, she gave him a weak nod, not even sparing a single look at her old mentor. Before she could get too far, however, someone pulled on her pants, making her stop. It was the youngest boy Jan, who pulled off what Reinhardt recognized to be Cayde's hood and then offered it to the mechanic, who smiled and took it with her.
"Not an ounce of hate in that one," he heard Cayde whisper to Brigitte before the two were out the door, for which Reinhardt was glad. It wouldn't be out of the question for Torbjorn to run over and attempt to hit Cayde again. During their Overwatch days, the blonde had always been merciless when facing omnics in and out of combat. Despite the obvious damage suffered, it was another small win for their side.
Mila had already taken the kids away by the time the door closed, leaving the two old friends to face each other. He could already hear what Torbjorn wanted to say, so it came as no surprise when the words were spoken. "It's not enough to harass me with all those calls and emails, but now you come to my home with that- that thing?! We may be family, Rein, and old friends before that, but I can't forgive anyone for doing this, not even you. What's gotten into you? Why is this so damn important to you? You need to let it go." Rein's face soured. Those words reminded him of Angela, though hers were much more sweet and caring. Then again, this was as caring as Torbjorn would get with anyone other than Mila and their children. "Don't pull a Jack on me, Rein. You know how things got after Ana…"
"Winston has been investigating everything with Athena back in Gibraltar," the taller man explained. "We're slowly finding clues about what really happened with what little Cayde can tell us without breaking protocols. We are close to finding out what really brought down Overwatch. Maybe even know why Gabriel did what he did."
"So you want me to help you condemn someone to life in prison because of this? And believe me when I tell you, that will be the lightest sentence this new Strike-Commander of yours would get from the UN if they catch wind of this. Who would it be? Ang? She doesn't care. She is out there making the world a better place in her own way. Lena? A shame, seeing as how she's still young. Winston? They would send him back to the moon and let his kind deal with him. You wouldn't be stupid enough to push it onto Brigitte. You and I both know we are too old to do it. So, who's left? Your Toaster friend?"
"Cayde," Reinhardt corrected. "No, he said he can't do it. The protocol is clear that whoever the next Strike-Commander is, it has to be human."
"Smart man, Jack," Torbjorn smirked as he turned to look at the picture hanging over the fireplace, the picture of their other family. "Could always go looking for Liao. She might take up the mantle."
"If we could find her, we wouldn't pester you this much."
"Yeah, yeah. I heard you the first hundred times." The two face each other, any sort of melancholy gone from them. "I see how important this is to you. Maybe once you get to those files you can finally move on… So? Who's it gonna be then? Tell me a name, and I'll think about it, but not before. And don't bother coming here with the Toaster when you have the name. I'll find you. Don't want the kids seeing that thing again."
Another victory, however small it felt. Truth was, they'd never discussed who would become Strike-Commander. They'd been so busy trying to convince Torbjorn for the last three years that they forgot about that important detail. He would need to get together with Winston to discuss it. Maybe they could find a way to convince Cayde to share the files without anyone actually becoming Strike-Commander as long as they had the Crusader and the engineer's approval. "I'm still invited for Christmas, then?" He joked.
"You better be there. The twins will be born by then, and we already know you won't make it for that with how stupid you are with calendars."
After what felt like forever, Reinhardt was able to laugh with cheer, slapping the shorter man on the back hard enough to make him stumble forward. With the promise of finding someone worthy of the title of Strike-Commander, the German left the house behind after saying goodbye to his extended family.
The van was already waiting for his outside, parked in front of the house with its engine roaring. There was little free space in there for him to fit in. They'd packed the vehicle as much as they could. His armor, Brigitte's tools, and all the supplies they needed to survive for a while were cramped in there. The young mechanic was examining the omnic's face, twisting it this way and then that way.
"Yep, it's busted," she said, sitting down with a sigh. "I warned you this would happen. I can get that dent out of your face, but you'll have to wait a while until we get you a new optic."
Cayde shrugged. "Heard somewhere ladies love battle wounds." Reinhardt laughed. That was something he'd heard his whole life too, but in truth most people found scars to be synonymous with danger, so they stayed away. "What do you say, Freckles? How about we give it a shot?"
Brigitte rolled her eyes. "I'm more of a brain's girl."
"I can speak thirteen languages and can recall one million digits of Pi. How about that?" It was like watching a comedy sketch unfold in front of him.
"So, Reinhardt," Brigitte said, ignoring Cayde while pulling off the damaged plate. Cayde faked hurt before he turned around on his seat to work on his optic. "I take it things went better with Torbjorn after we left?"
"Yes!" The man boasted, pushing his chin up and chest out. "He will help. But first, we need to find ourselves a new Strike-Commander. Any idea where we can find one?"
"I heard the Commander tell Fareeha Amari that she would be a good leader someday," Cayde said, turning around. Even if he was an omnic, seeing him work on his own eye was disturbing. "Think he was joking, though. First time he told her she would steal the job from under him, she wasn't old enough to sign herself up for the military."
"I don't think Anna would like us to put the burden on little Fareeha."
"You call her little, but she is a woman grown, only a couple of years younger than Brigitte here. I ran a background check on her last month. Turns out, she left the military to join Helix International."
"After everything that she's been through, I doubt bringing her in would be best," Brigitte said. She was currently leaning back on her seat, examining the other side of the plate in her hand. "Wouldn't someone that was part of Overwatch be better for this? I'm still surprised Morrison didn't leave behind a list of potential candidates, to be honest."
"We can discuss this back in Gibraltar," said Reinhardt as he moved to the front of the van and got it into gear. This was a big decision to make. It wouldn't feel right to not consider everyone's opinions. A message would need to be sent to everyone that already knew about the current situation so they could gather. "That makes it our next destination. I'll call Winston to let him know."
"Hold on there, big guy," Cayde piped up, his broken optic lighting up again, though still missing a piece of glass. "What's the rush? Besides, there is something more urgent we should be doing right about now."
"I told you, we're not going to the amusement park," Brigitte said, not amused by his words.
"And I'm still angry about that. We could all use a break, right? But that's not what I meant. Someone's sent a request for a pickup. Through old Overwatch channels."
"Who would use old Overwatch channels after everything that happened?"
"Someone that's been stuck in Antarctica for the past couple of decades…" Brigitte and Reinhardt exchanged a look, both of confusing and realization. There was only one place where someone in Antarctica could send out a signal through Overwatch channels, and that was Ecopoint: Antarctica.
