Chapter Text
The first time that you met Reinhardt was in a run-down bar in Germany. The bar had definitely seen better days, the paint chipping the chairs all stained with old drinks, the wood starting to age. But to you it was absolutely charming. This bar had character and it showed. There were stories from this bar that you were dying to hear. That’s one of the main reasons you had ended up in Germany in the first place: You were traveling through to document stories from vetran soldiers who had fought in the different wars over the years. You had notebooks and holopads full of notes about the different wars.
You had set your dirty backpack by the bar, quickly ordering a drink in broken German. As you settled in with your journal in front of you to work on some notes, you looked around the bar. At the opposite end was an absolute giant of a man. He had long grey hair, beard to match, muscles for days, and was talking loudly and boisterously to a young girl who was begging him to quiet down. It wasn’t until he turned his face that you saw that he was missing an eye.
Seeing the long scar over his left eye made your heart skip a beat, but you weren’t sure if it was just because the excitement of knowing who the man was. There was no denying that the man was handsome. But you also knew that this had to be Reinhardt Wilhelm. He was a hero, not only serving with the Crusaders, but with Overwatch as well. His service was known around the world, and everything that you heard about him was nothing but praise. He was brave, chivalrous, a hero in every sense of the word. And for him to be there in the same bar as you was beyond exciting.
Knocking back your drink, it took all your courage to grab your bag and walk to the other end of the bar. Approaching cautiously, you asked him if he was indeed Reinhardt Wilhelm. The response almost knocked you back. A huge smile showed up on a handsome, but broken face. His entire demeanor changed as he adjusted in his chair sitting up taller. Just the response of asking him his name was like a ray of sunshine had appeared suddenly in the bar. You remembered it was like the cheesy movies where the love interest was always draped in a soft spotlight. Realizing that made you blush slightly and turn away.
Never one to shy away, Reinhardt asked you to sit with him. He ordered you a drink in loud German, making you laugh a little. Hearing such a rough language come out of his mouth was startling. Not unusual, but startling nonetheless. However, you didn’t realize that when you were invited to sit with him it would be for hours. As Reinhardt started to talk about his stories you couldn’t help but be completely enthralled in everything he talked about. The stories of his time with the Crusaders made your heart beat faster with anticipation, as if the man recounting the stories wasn’t sitting in front of you. He talked about his time after the Crusaders and adjusting to having a normal life, which didn’t last for long. He talked about his time with Overwatch and how it gave him a sense of purpose after not knowing what to do for years. He talked about his retirement and how he would go back to Overwatch in a heartbeat.
At some point you had put your journal away. You only had your one drink that you had ordered when you first walked in, too wrapped up in Reinhardt’s stories to drink. Hours passed as the two of you sat there. And while Reinhardt liked to talk, he never overstepped. When you wanted to contribute to the conversation he was quick to shut up, letting you add in your own stories. When he heard that you were traveling around the world listening to people who had fought in the different wars, he wanted to know more about your project. He asked if you were writing a book and joked that he wanted a dedication in the front. It made you laugh and smile. You promised him that whenever you got around to writing a book, you’d put him as the first person it was dedicated to.
It wasn’t until the bartender was kicking you out and Reinhardt’s god-daughter had come to collect him that you stopped talking. Even then you wanted to continue hearing his stories. You wanted to know everything about Reinhardt. Hell, you were okay with him just reading the German dictionary to you if it meant getting to hear his voice. You wanted to stay there forever. You wanted to hear his voice and listen to his stories and watch as his entire face would light up when he got to the parts he liked the most. Being around Reinhardt was like stepping into the sun for the first time during a cold winter day. It was like coming up to breathe for the first time because everything felt natural.
Even with the bar closed and Reinhardt’s god-daughter standing there waiting for him, the two of you kept talking. Neither one of you wanted to leave, it was obvious. It was hard to know whether or not you would see each other again, or if this would be the last moments between the two of you. Finally, as you started to get tired and your backpack was hurting your shoulder, you tore a piece of your journal out, writing your number on it. When you held it out for him, Reinhardt took both your hands in his large ones, completely engulfing them. His face lit up once again as he held his hands up between the two of you. You were pretty sure that your heart was going to fall out of your chest seeing him that happy with your hands clasped between his.
“I cannot wait to speak to you again!” he said excitedly before letting go of your hands. He took the piece of paper from you, tucking it inside his pocket before waving at you as he and Brigitte headed off toward where they were staying, leaving you dazed in front of the bar.