Authers note: English is not my first languege and this story is curently un-beta'ed.

For some reason I've always liked this pairing, and it frustrated me that there are not more of stories focusing on these two then there is. So I decided to stop bitc*ing and do something about it.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) don't own Grimm. But if I did, it would be full of slash. Oh, and I'm a destitute university student, so while making money of off this would be great, it would be illegal. So I don't. Make money off of this, that is. I am making no profit what so ever. Just wanted to make that clear.

Chapter 1

Roddy stayed late at the school practicing his violin in peace. There wasn't much peace to find at home anymore – not after his father got released from prison. His father's business wasn't going too well, and he tended to spend his time, and a big chunk of their money, on cheap alcohol. That meant that most of the time he was either drunk or hangover. And in neither of these situations could he stand hearing Roddy play the violin.

He walked outside to where he had parked his bike, only to find nothing at all. Roddy cursed. His bike was stolen. He couldn't help but suspect that some of his many bullies had swiped it just for a laugh. He checked his pockets, but as he suspected, he didn't have money for public transportation. He cursed once more and started the long trek home. Home. Huh, funny. It barely felt that way anymore. At least it had stopped raining.

His mother died when he was young. He was far too young when it happened to remember much, but what he remember best, is her smell. She always smelled faintly of sunflowers. He always felt safe when she was around. Despite the fact that she too was only a Reinigen, he always felt that she could take on any predator and win. Unfortunately that proved not to be the case. When Roddy was 6 years old she was killed in front of him by a Jãgerbar. He doesn't like to think of what happened, though his nightmares make sure that he always is. But what he misses the most, is how she would always sing to him when he was feeling down. As he takes a shortcut through the public park he plays the song in his head, and her odd choice succeeds in putting a faint smile on his face. 'Wayward Son' by Kansas. His mother was introduced to the song while she had been pregnant with him, and after he was born, it became his unorthodox lullaby. When he is down, he sometimes fantasizes that she is the one telling him to carry on. And he can't help but suspect that that was her intention.

"Well, look here guys. If it isn't Ratty the Geek."

Roddy turned to his right, and quickly spotted three of his tormentors. Stereotypic Jocks. And yes, that is with both a capital S and J. He looks around, and just his luck, no one around. At least not anyone who would ever help him. Though there are some parents escorting their small children a little way of in the distance. He could call out for them. But he knew that it would just make everything so much worse for him later on. Besides, these Stereotypical Jocks, were trustfond kids. There parents could, and would, get them out of anything. Probably manage to lay the blame on Roddy somehow at the same time. No, the best thing to do, is try to deal with it himself. He runs.

He hasn't gotten far before he is tackled to the ground from behind. He lands on the still slightly muddy ground with a groan of pain. His school back is yanked from his back, and then he is yanked up by the back of his worn and old shirt. The second he is turned around a fist connect with his face sending him to the ground once more.

"Look what I found"

Roddy groans and looks up, only to see that Bradley had taken his violin out of its case. "Put that down you Fucker!" He knew it was stupid, but that violin is his most precious possession. It's what got him into that prestigious school on a scholarship to begin with. Beside, his music had always been his escape. He got up on his feet, and lunged for Bradley to try and reclaim his property. The next thing he knew something hard had collided with his face, and he, again, found himself laying in the mud. Bradley and his two cohorts started kicking him the second he hit the ground. There was nothing he could do besides try to protect his vitals. How he hated their laughter. Their taunting, bullying, stealing and destroying of his things was bad enough. But their laughter, that he couldn't deal with. It was demeaning and cruel and always made him feel like dirt. Powerless dirt. The story of his life – the life of a Reinigen – always at the bottom of the foodchain. Always someone else's prey – always at someone else's mercy.

"See you tomorrow, your white trash faggot." Bradley cheerfully delivered one last kick to his back, and then walked away with his laughing friends.

Roddy didn't move an inch while trying to mentally assess the damage: the whole left side of his face hurt, as did his arms, his legs and his back. It didn't seem like anything was broken – thank God for small mercies, and all that. But after that beating, he would be in a tremendous amount of pain and look like one big walking rainbow-colored bruise. He gritted his teeth through the pain sitting up caused him, and immediately froze. On the ground next to him was his violin. His now broken and splintered and totally destroyed violin. He can't afford a new one. How is he going to keep his scholarship without a violin? And without his scholarship, how is he going to keep attending what is statistically – and reputation wise – the best school in Portland? He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. His violin…his future…

"Are you okay?"

That smell. That smell he'll recognize anywhere: Jãgerbar. Roddy reacted instinctually. He quickly scrambled backwards until he hit a tree, and looked up with fearful eyes. He wanted to talk. To say something brave or sarcastic. To plead for his life. But he couldn't. His vocal cords were in cahoots with his brain and refused to cooperate. He couldn't move. There was no escape.

The Jãgerbar moved closer and crouched down in front of him. He then proceeded to reach out and touch Roddy's cheek, which caused Roddy to instantly flinch and whimper in fear. "Your been crying." The bear says while using his thumb to dry away the tears on Roddy's right cheek. Something changed in the predators tone and smell. It became more dangerous, more foreboding, which, finally, made Roddy regain his ability to speak. And what comes out isn't what he would have wished. It's not tough or sarcastic nor is it insulting or fearless. What comes out is a broken, desperate and soft spoken plea: "Please…please don't kill me. Pl..-sob-…please…."

In response to Roddy's pleas, the bear drops from his crouched positions and onto his knees, and crushed the Reinigen to his chest in a, too tight, hug. "I'm not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you." While the bear mutters promises, which in the realistic part of Roddy's mind seems empty, he runs one of his hands in soothing circles on Roddy's back until his crying and pleading slowly subsides.

Roddy doesn't understand. Why would a predator, a Jãgerbar offer him comfort? Unless of course it's just a ploy, a game, a way of toying with him until the bear decides to eat him. Just like the way his mother's murderer let him live, just so he forever would live in fear of him returning, so he would live constantly having nightmares. So he would never feel safe – all for the Jãgerbar's amusement.

"Who hurt you?" A deep rough voice softly whispered in his ear. Roddy can't help but shiver as the bears hot breath ghost over his sensitive skin. As the bear feels his shiver, he hugs him tighter and reassures him of his supposed safety in the bear's arms.

All the pain and torment he had suffered lately coupled with his current confusion, fear and rage made him lash out. He pushed at the bear's chest to get free. Weirdly enough the predator released him. Roddy stumbled backwards and unto his feet. "What's it to you anyway? Huh?" The bear slowly rose until he too was standing up. The bear tilted his head a little to the side, and pierced Roddy with his blue assessing eyes. He slowly let his eyes roam over Roddy's bruised body from head to toe. "Let me take you to the hospital." It wasn't posed as a question, but stated as a fact. Roddy, who had become steadily more uneasy by the bear's elevator looks, bristled in indignation and anger. "I don't need your help. Nor anyone else's for that matter." Roddy turned around with the intention of leaving, when a hand short forth and gripped his upper arm. The bear looked almost hurt that Roddy refused his help. He even looked kind of lost, which really didn't make any sense to Roddy.

"But yo–"

"Just leave me alone." Roddy said firmly, but to his self loathing, a note of pleading had crept into his voice. He quickly yanked his arm out of the Jãgerbar's slack grip, and walked away leaving his backpack and broken violin (and case) behind in the dirt.

Authers note: Let me know what you think. And if you have any ideas, let me know. And if it fits into the story line, I'll incorporate it :)