Title: Peace, Finally.

Author:OneShotWonderment (or crashdownpixie on LJ)

Pairings:
Monroe/Nick, Past Juliette/Nick

Rating: G

Summary: It was the reflection in the mirror that really cemented everything.

Notes/Warnings:

- Character death.

Disclaimer:

All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of this author. This author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


It was the reflection in the mirror that really cemented everything; it was that hollowed man with the dull eyes, graying skin, and permanent frown that made it all more real. The pieces of his life had been chipped away from Nick for over a year now and he tried, really he had, to bury it all. He had made a valiant attempt, honestly, but he couldn't bury any more. There wasn't any more space in his heart, mind, and soul to bury anything else. He couldn't move on any longer.

Aunt Marie had been the start of it all…or was she perhaps the end of it? He supposed that it didn't really matter, but it was nice to have some sort of organization to everything. Losing her so soon after learning of his destiny was a hard blow to Nick. She had been his only remaining real family, excluding of course some distant cousins, and now he's lost without her. He pushed that loss down, buried it under his new worldview. It was easy to pretend that he wasn't hurting; it was easy to pretend he could handle her death and the new weight she placed on his shoulders.

For awhile he managed it, he ignored the nagging question of what happened to his parents and what that weird key was for; he just pushed through and did his job. He was a cop, he was a Grimm, and with the help of Hank and Monore, he made it all work as best as possible. Nick hated lying to Hank about so much and he hated the imposition that he was putting on Monroe. No matter how he tried find a solution there simply wasn't one…or at least there wasn't one that didn't end with Nick in an insane asylum. He thought about it at night, the many different scenarios of how he would tell Hank that was Grimm and they never in a million years end well for him.

It was lying to Juliette, though, that really wore on Nick. She was so sweet and perfect and wonderful and it wasn't fair to her that life around Nick had gotten all twisted up. She had tried, bless her, to stick it out, to deal, but eventually she couldn't. She couldn't understand the blood, the torn clothes, the late hours. The number of people either busting in or running out of their house; she just couldn't take it…and Nick didn't blame her.

No, the blame was placed, heavy and sharp, on Nick's shoulders. If he were better at his job, both of them, nothing would have ever touched Juliette, Monroe would be able to live his life in peace and Hank would have a reliable partner. If he were better at being a Grimm…but he wasn't. He had no idea what he was doing, no clue as to what it all meant. Marie had known though she had a clue. She had managed to raise him and be a Grimm without him ever even knowing. Marie was so much better. Why had she been taken away? She should be the one still alive, still protecting people; not Nick. Nick wasn't good enough.

His hands shook something terrible as he opened the pill bottle and dumped the tiny white pills into his hand. Marie said he was one of the last Grimms, not ithe/i last. Maybe one of his distant cousins knew about all of this, maybe they would get the gift. Or maybe one of them would get and they knew nothing about it. They could probably do a better job, though, keeping it away from their loved ones.

It would be better, Nick decided just a few hours ago, no could be a worse Grimm then he was. After that realization, he felt a sort of peace. He cleaned his house, put away the files from the latest case, and did the dishes. He had sat for a bit and thought about the best way to go about it. Eating his gun was too messy. This was a nice house, it shouldn't be stained with his blood. Plus, he had to consider who would be the most likely to find him. Monroe was supposed to come over for dinner to discuss the latest case (some creature Nick didn't recognize was stealing lives from Fae children) so it would likely be him. Nick was set against making life any harder for him; so bloody ways were out. Hanging flitted across his mind for a second before he dismissed; too painful. Then, he remembered the pills in the upstairs bathroom from the time he got shot in the leg and here he was.

Nick looked in the mirror again and saw the hollowed man with the dull eyes, graying skin, and permanent frown. That was who he was now. It would better soon…it would. He tossed the pills into his mouth and with a large gulp of water swallowed them down. There was just one more thing he had to do. One last thing he had to say; he couldn't take this one with him to the grave. He grabbed his cell phone off the toilet lid and walked out into the bedroom. He laid on the bed and pressed speed dial two, listening to the ringing. It was melodic, really.

"You have got the worst timing in the world, dude."

"Sorry, I just-I need tell you something."

"Nick? What's wrong? Why do you sound so-"

"I love you, Monroe. I don't know when it started or how it happened and I-I just thought you should know." Nick pressed end before the other man could say another word.

He let his phone slip from his grasp and closed his eyes.

Peace, finally.


A/N: I might write a second chapter to this...what do you guys think?