Characters: Grimmjow
Pairings: Grimmjow/OC
Genre: tragedy, romance, a little bit of angst
Warnings: mild language
Grimmjow's human life. Tell me what you thing (please!)
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Anyone who knew Grimmjow Jaegerjaques would have been surprised to hear that, when he died in a car accident involving a drunk driver, he was not the one who was intoxicated.
No, he was stone cold sober in fact, when his beat-up pickup truck was slammed head on by the lemon-yellow camaro. At the time, the thoughts going through Grimmjow's head were focused on his destination; the shabby little apartment that he shared with his girlfriend of three years. He'd left the garage where he worked as a mechanic later than usual, and it was getting dark. Much longer and Cassie would worry. Suddenly, a pair of blue high beam headlights appeared in the far distance, shining directly into the cab of his truck.
Squinting in annoyance, Grimmjow glared at the approaching vehicle. As anything with a motor fell under the category of worthy of his attention, he could recognize the type of car even from this distance. He scoffed distastefully. A 2008 Chevy Camaro; Just about the worst era for that car. And such a douche-bag colour too. And believe it that Grimmjow knew all about douche-bag paraphernalia because, as they say, "Takes one to know one."
But wait a second, what was that asshole doing? He was driving rather erratically, and coming up way too fast. Grimmjow let his own speed drop a few kilometers, he didn't need to deal with this shit. But just as the speeding car was about to zoom past, it swerved wildly into Grimmjow's lane.
The thoughts going through his head at that moment went something like this; oh fucking hell. And then he was dead.
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Jacques Kasper Grimsby was what would be considered a troublesome child. Born to a middleclass Danish family, he was the typical middle child; hungry for attention due to the mild neglect he suffered due to his birth order. And so he had the normal tendency to act out in order to gain the recognition of his parents.
When he was ten years old, Jacques' father was exposed in a shocking affair with one of his co-workers, and the seemingly happy marriage fell apart. Not even waiting for an official divorce, Lydia Grimsby, now going by her maiden name Brauer, packed up her children and fled back to her home in Germany. She moved into a house on the same street as her sister, in the town they were born in. Bitter and scorned, the woman began withhold her love from her children.
This paired with the sudden loss of their father, as well as leaving the only home they'd ever known shook the children badly. Jacques' sixteen year-old sister Kristine grew cold and distant, spending all her time holed up in her room on the phone with her boyfriend of friends that they'd left behind in Denmark. She came to resent her mother for forcing her away and, two years later she moved back to live with their father and his new wife.
Eleanor, the baby of the family, developed anxiety problems and started wetting the bed again, a habit which, at eight year of age, she had outgrown years ago.
Jacques' attitude continued to worsen. His grades dropped so much that he was removed from their current school and placed in a lower one. He fell in with a sketchy crowd and took up the peculiar habit of chewing tobacco, which his mother detested. He was about to turn thirteen when he first dyed his light brown hair. He coloured it black, then bleach blond, then streaked it through with crimson before settling with powder blue. He hung around with the metal-heads and skanks, the shit-hawks and punks. He dated older girls and regularly skipped class, until he finally just stopped pretending and dropped out the year before he was set to graduate. He started going by a nickname one of his girlfriends had given him: Grimm.
He managed to beg a job at the local garage, as he'd hung around with one of the guys' younger brother a few times. The hours were shitty and the pay even worse, but he proved to be a natural in the garage and soon climbed through the ranks and became a full-time mechanic.
Life improved for him considerably, and through his job he gained a small group of friends whom he could actually trust. He cut back on the partying and moved out of the house he'd been sharing with four other guys he'd known from high school and bought himself a place. He was still pretty much estranged from his family, except from Eleanor, who was in her first year of college. Life wasn't perfect, but it was livable.
Then he met Cassandra Clow. He was twenty-two when she walked into his garage. It was the middle of the day on a Tuesday, so the shop was pretty dead, and he was the only one there, as the other two guys had gone on a beer run.
The problem with her car was a relatively simple one, and he fixed it in just a few minutes. But the cute redhead stayed for a full hour to talk, and by the time she left, Grimm had her cell number on a sticky note in his back pocket.
They'd been dating for only a little over a month when she moved in with him. He was at first embarrassed about the small size and impoverished state of his home, but coming from a low-income family herself, she didn't mind. They quickly grew close and it was apperent to all of their friends that they were meant to be.
With his life more structured than it had been in ages, Grimm was leading a happy, clean life with the woman he loved when he was killed. His death was quick and painless.
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Grimmjow Jaegerjacques, freshly evolved adjuches-level hollow stared at the cheerful scene in front of him. A woman and a small boy strolled hand-in-hand down the urban sidewalk. The little boy, who looked to be around seven years old, was chatting rapidly in German, and his young mother, a pretty woman with curly orange hair listen with a smile on her freckled face. The child swung his backpack wildly, obviously coming home from school. They turned down the walk of a small bungalow, and were greeted at the door by a tall man with dark hair and glasses who hefted the boy up and carried him, giggling, over his shoulder and into the house. The woman paused on the threshold and turned, her brown eyes scanning curiously as if she'd heard a strange noise. Dismissing it, she followed her family and shut the door behind her.
The unseen observer of this family scene turned with a heartbroken scream and bounded away, passing through the garganta without even pausing. Grimmjow never once looked back at the house that Cassandra had just entered, missing the pair of childish sky-blue eyes, so like his own, peering through the curtains out at him.
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Benjamin Grimsby pulled away from the window and slide down the couch with a flop. Hopping to his feet he darted off into the kitchen to find his mum and Uncle Tomas and tell them all about the great white cat he had just seen in the bushes in the Thalbergs' yard. His uncle chuckled warmly and patted his head, marveling to his sister-in-law at "the wonders of a child's imagination", despite how loudly the little boy insisted that he's really seen it.
Benjamin named this 'imaginary friend' of his Katze, and he became his regular companion for the rest of his childhood.