The Friends You Make Here… by BymagaJones 8b/?
Chapter 8a
Chapter 8b
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
Nick hated January. He and Aunt Marie were spending it traveling through North Dakota, where it was snowy and cold and miserable and ugly. Sure, he’d considered it beautiful when they’d spent a year there when he was in ninth grade. But now he knew how his aunt spent her time, so he spent a lot of his time reading all of her books written in English, inviting himself along so he could try to talk to the Wesen she wanted to just up and kill.
Sometimes he managed to broker a truce between her and the various creatures, and sometimes there was bloodshed. The first time a Wesen had come after them, Nick’d been unprepared and scared, but he’d helped Aunt Marie kill the Hundjäger.
After that, he asked her to train him on the various weapons she kept in the trailer, and he strived to find a balance between being a mediator and a stone cold killer. He hoped his aunt was realizing that some of the Wesen just wanted the same things humans did, to be allowed to live productive lives raising their families.
She answered every question he asked her, even volunteering information the more comfortable she got with his tagging along. That’s how he learned that once she died, she’d more than likely pass it off to him. The trailer - and the responsibility - would be his, whether he liked it or not.
At first he felt that all of his dreams were crumbling with each tidbit of information he learned. How could he become a cop if he had to travel around the world seeking out Wesen? While he wasn’t as sociable as Hap or Wu, he still liked having friends, having a place to call his own. If he couldn’t trust people with his secret, how would he explain why he was roaming throughout the country in an old truck and pulling a metal trailer? He was going to end up alone and lonely. It didn’t seem to bother Aunt Marie, but he wondered if she’d been like him at the beginning, soft and unsure, and grew those calluses as a survival mechanism. He loved his aunt, but he didn’t want to end up so tough that he preferred his own company.
Then he started to realize that even if he couldn’t choose his inheritance as a Grimm, he could still choose parts of his own path. Just like he refused to indiscriminately kill every Wesen they encountered, he could choose to find a city where he could grow his own roots. He could still be a cop, just one with maybe more insight thanks to his knowledge about the Wesen world. He could keep the peace in both worlds. Of course, it wouldn’t be easy, but he wasn’t afraid of hard work when it came with the promise of something value coming of it.
And he didn’t have to close himself off. Obviously, he’d have to learn how to keep secrets from Hank and Wu, who knew him better than anyone other than Aunt Marie and -
Well, Aunt Marie.
But he could still be a good friend, still spend time with them. Hunting Wesen could only become his entire world if he let it.
He deliberately put off thinking consciously about Monroe for as long as he could - well, if he didn’t count his daily conversations with Wu, who didn’t even need Nick’s hints anymore to start talking about Monroe.
It felt like Monroe was there, just out of reach, hiding in the shadows of Nick’s motel rooms. Even in his small beds - all beds were small after Monroe’s - he felt lonely. He missed sharing smiles and kisses with his boyfriend, curling up with him on the sofa watching movies, even just sitting in the room with him studying.
He’d never noticed how much he’d begun to rely on Monroe’s touches until he started spending his time with someone who never touched him at all. When he first moved in with Aunt Marie, he’d quickly adapted to her lifestyle, believing that the way they lived was normal. Now that he’d spent time away from her - and with Monroe - the fact that the way that they lived wasn’t normal screamed at him all the time.
There were times when he missed Monroe’s touch so badly he wanted to scream. That’s when he trained the hardest, staying busy until the physical ache became manageable.
His dreams were filled with his running through forests or down empty streets, always looking for something, always behind. He’d wake up, his soul aching, so hard that had to grit his teeth. One problem was easily handled in the shower, although his release never came with the warm, rubbery feeling he got after an enthusiastic romp with Monroe. And the spray of the water never provided the comfort that he felt from Monroe’s arms.
“So what do you plan to do?” Aunt Marie said one day after they’d been driving for about twenty minutes in silence.
He allowed himself a moment to appreciate the fact that his aunt had been first one to speak. Normally she preferred it quiet, deep into her own thoughts. It said something that she was the one who initiated conversation this time. “What do I plan to do about what?”
“School. I imagine that if you’re going to go back, you need to leave soon.”
“Yeah.” He scratched at his cheek. “I need my degree before I join the force.”
“You’re still planning on becoming a cop?” His aunt’s disbelief made him smile.
“I am. In fact, I think this’ll make me a better cop.”
“And lying to your friends? You know you can’t tell them.”
“I know. At least I know that Hank and Wu are human.” Aunt Marie had met them before and had assured him about that fact.
“And what of the Blutbad?”
That was the stickiest part. Seeing Monroe - and their friends’ lives were now so intertwined that there was no way he was going to be able to avoid him for an entire semester - and not being able to be with him would feel intolerable.
“You could just kill him.” She slid him a look, and it took a few seconds for him to realize that she was teasing him, something she did rarely - and never about Wesen.
“Did you just make a joke?”
She smiled faintly. “You’ve decided that you aren’t going buy into the status quo and do things like we’ve done them for years.”
When she didn’t continue, he said, “And?”
“And you even have me thinking about things. Even two months ago, I would’ve burned that Fuchsbau’s house to the ground, but you got in there, found out that he wasn’t hurting anyone, and convinced me to leave him alone.”
“You’re just going soft,” Nick chided her.
“I’ve been taking notes, and I’ll be checking on all of these Wesen we’re letting off the hook. Any one of them so much as gets a jaywalking ticket, and their hides are mine. But I’m giving them a chance, which was way more than I ever did before. You’ve come in here and refused to let me - any of your ancestors, really - make your decisions for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe you should think about using that independent thinking everywhere in your life.”
Blinking in shock, he turned toward his aunt. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
She shrugged a shoulder, looking a little uncomfortable, but she kept her eyes on the road ahead. “I’m not saying that I think it’s a good idea - because I don’t. But I see how much you love him, how much you miss him.”
“I don’t talk in my sleep do I?” He asked, only partially joking.
“You don’t need to,” she said simply. “If you’re going to be your own kind of Grimm, why only apply that open-mindedness to Wesen you don’t know?”
“We’re totally different species,” Nick said.
“You already were before you met,” Marie reminded him. “The only thing that’s changed is that now you know about it. So you’re going to have to decide if makes a difference to you.” She pulled off the dirt road and into the woods, driving the truck until it was hidden among the trees, then got out, opening the back door. “The Siegbarstes should be a couple of miles away.” With a small grunt, she pulled the Siegbarste Gewehr from underneath the tarp in the truck bed and slung the high-powered elephant gun over her shoulder. “Ready?”
Nick made sure he grabbed the extra bullets coated in Siegbarste Gift and sighed. At least he was getting in some good exercise while he worked out things in his mind.
On to Chapter 9
Chapter 8b
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
Nick hated January. He and Aunt Marie were spending it traveling through North Dakota, where it was snowy and cold and miserable and ugly. Sure, he’d considered it beautiful when they’d spent a year there when he was in ninth grade. But now he knew how his aunt spent her time, so he spent a lot of his time reading all of her books written in English, inviting himself along so he could try to talk to the Wesen she wanted to just up and kill.
Sometimes he managed to broker a truce between her and the various creatures, and sometimes there was bloodshed. The first time a Wesen had come after them, Nick’d been unprepared and scared, but he’d helped Aunt Marie kill the Hundjäger.
After that, he asked her to train him on the various weapons she kept in the trailer, and he strived to find a balance between being a mediator and a stone cold killer. He hoped his aunt was realizing that some of the Wesen just wanted the same things humans did, to be allowed to live productive lives raising their families.
She answered every question he asked her, even volunteering information the more comfortable she got with his tagging along. That’s how he learned that once she died, she’d more than likely pass it off to him. The trailer - and the responsibility - would be his, whether he liked it or not.
At first he felt that all of his dreams were crumbling with each tidbit of information he learned. How could he become a cop if he had to travel around the world seeking out Wesen? While he wasn’t as sociable as Hap or Wu, he still liked having friends, having a place to call his own. If he couldn’t trust people with his secret, how would he explain why he was roaming throughout the country in an old truck and pulling a metal trailer? He was going to end up alone and lonely. It didn’t seem to bother Aunt Marie, but he wondered if she’d been like him at the beginning, soft and unsure, and grew those calluses as a survival mechanism. He loved his aunt, but he didn’t want to end up so tough that he preferred his own company.
Then he started to realize that even if he couldn’t choose his inheritance as a Grimm, he could still choose parts of his own path. Just like he refused to indiscriminately kill every Wesen they encountered, he could choose to find a city where he could grow his own roots. He could still be a cop, just one with maybe more insight thanks to his knowledge about the Wesen world. He could keep the peace in both worlds. Of course, it wouldn’t be easy, but he wasn’t afraid of hard work when it came with the promise of something value coming of it.
And he didn’t have to close himself off. Obviously, he’d have to learn how to keep secrets from Hank and Wu, who knew him better than anyone other than Aunt Marie and -
Well, Aunt Marie.
But he could still be a good friend, still spend time with them. Hunting Wesen could only become his entire world if he let it.
He deliberately put off thinking consciously about Monroe for as long as he could - well, if he didn’t count his daily conversations with Wu, who didn’t even need Nick’s hints anymore to start talking about Monroe.
It felt like Monroe was there, just out of reach, hiding in the shadows of Nick’s motel rooms. Even in his small beds - all beds were small after Monroe’s - he felt lonely. He missed sharing smiles and kisses with his boyfriend, curling up with him on the sofa watching movies, even just sitting in the room with him studying.
He’d never noticed how much he’d begun to rely on Monroe’s touches until he started spending his time with someone who never touched him at all. When he first moved in with Aunt Marie, he’d quickly adapted to her lifestyle, believing that the way they lived was normal. Now that he’d spent time away from her - and with Monroe - the fact that the way that they lived wasn’t normal screamed at him all the time.
There were times when he missed Monroe’s touch so badly he wanted to scream. That’s when he trained the hardest, staying busy until the physical ache became manageable.
His dreams were filled with his running through forests or down empty streets, always looking for something, always behind. He’d wake up, his soul aching, so hard that had to grit his teeth. One problem was easily handled in the shower, although his release never came with the warm, rubbery feeling he got after an enthusiastic romp with Monroe. And the spray of the water never provided the comfort that he felt from Monroe’s arms.
“So what do you plan to do?” Aunt Marie said one day after they’d been driving for about twenty minutes in silence.
He allowed himself a moment to appreciate the fact that his aunt had been first one to speak. Normally she preferred it quiet, deep into her own thoughts. It said something that she was the one who initiated conversation this time. “What do I plan to do about what?”
“School. I imagine that if you’re going to go back, you need to leave soon.”
“Yeah.” He scratched at his cheek. “I need my degree before I join the force.”
“You’re still planning on becoming a cop?” His aunt’s disbelief made him smile.
“I am. In fact, I think this’ll make me a better cop.”
“And lying to your friends? You know you can’t tell them.”
“I know. At least I know that Hank and Wu are human.” Aunt Marie had met them before and had assured him about that fact.
“And what of the Blutbad?”
That was the stickiest part. Seeing Monroe - and their friends’ lives were now so intertwined that there was no way he was going to be able to avoid him for an entire semester - and not being able to be with him would feel intolerable.
“You could just kill him.” She slid him a look, and it took a few seconds for him to realize that she was teasing him, something she did rarely - and never about Wesen.
“Did you just make a joke?”
She smiled faintly. “You’ve decided that you aren’t going buy into the status quo and do things like we’ve done them for years.”
When she didn’t continue, he said, “And?”
“And you even have me thinking about things. Even two months ago, I would’ve burned that Fuchsbau’s house to the ground, but you got in there, found out that he wasn’t hurting anyone, and convinced me to leave him alone.”
“You’re just going soft,” Nick chided her.
“I’ve been taking notes, and I’ll be checking on all of these Wesen we’re letting off the hook. Any one of them so much as gets a jaywalking ticket, and their hides are mine. But I’m giving them a chance, which was way more than I ever did before. You’ve come in here and refused to let me - any of your ancestors, really - make your decisions for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe you should think about using that independent thinking everywhere in your life.”
Blinking in shock, he turned toward his aunt. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
She shrugged a shoulder, looking a little uncomfortable, but she kept her eyes on the road ahead. “I’m not saying that I think it’s a good idea - because I don’t. But I see how much you love him, how much you miss him.”
“I don’t talk in my sleep do I?” He asked, only partially joking.
“You don’t need to,” she said simply. “If you’re going to be your own kind of Grimm, why only apply that open-mindedness to Wesen you don’t know?”
“We’re totally different species,” Nick said.
“You already were before you met,” Marie reminded him. “The only thing that’s changed is that now you know about it. So you’re going to have to decide if makes a difference to you.” She pulled off the dirt road and into the woods, driving the truck until it was hidden among the trees, then got out, opening the back door. “The Siegbarstes should be a couple of miles away.” With a small grunt, she pulled the Siegbarste Gewehr from underneath the tarp in the truck bed and slung the high-powered elephant gun over her shoulder. “Ready?”
Nick made sure he grabbed the extra bullets coated in Siegbarste Gift and sighed. At least he was getting in some good exercise while he worked out things in his mind.
On to Chapter 9