This was written before Let Your Hair Down, so I didn't know Monroe has this absolute LOVE for Christmas :)
x x x x x xx x x x x xx x x x x xx x x x x xx x x x x xx x x x x xx x x x x xx x x x x x
Eddie had never celebrated Christmas in his life. Actually, it wasn't a holiday he wanted to spend anywhere outside. Too many girls in red. Even a reformed blutbad couldn't ignore instinct all the time. Red was simply a very enticing color and very, very potent..
He had done a few… well, a lot… of bad things throughout those seasons in his past. He wasn't proud of them and he didn't discuss it with Nick. The Grimm hadn't asked about it either. He had yet to sit Eddie down and demand to know about the blutbad's life.
Anyway, Christmas was a no-go. He refused to have a tree and he didn't leave his own four walls unless he really, really had to. His pantry was stocked like he was expecting the next biblical flood… or an earthquake… or some kind of epidemic.
x x x x x x
This Christmas felt different. Nick wasn't the kind to celebrate with family, seeing that he lacked it completely. He had planned on working that day and Eddie didn't stop him. The detective was rather busy the day before Christmas and didn't really have a quiet moment until almost New Year. Eddie didn't see him for three days straight and while he wondered, he tried not to worry.
He also told himself that he didn't miss having Nick drop in all the time, steal his food and coffee and/or beer. He didn't mind sleeping alone, with only a faint lingering scent of Nick around him. And no, he wasn't skulking around the other man's house at night, wondering where he was, what case he was working.
Eddie knew he was pathetic. Hopeless and pathetic. He had it bad and it wasn't getting better. Nick had gotten to him in a way no one ever had before.
x x x x x x
Nick came into Monroe's home – their home, he thought of it now because Nick tended to spend a lot of time here instead of at his own - exhausted, looking like something the cat had dragged in, and smelling of…
Eddie bristled.
Blutbad!
He was on the other man before he could catch a rational thought and only because Nick knew him didn't Monroe get a Grimm treatment. Eyes flared red and he growled.
"Eddie, chill," came the deceptively soft order. There was a core of steel that had developed in the past months.
It had an immediate effect. Like a command he couldn't but follow. He pushed back, still bristly, but he forced himself under control.
"You didn't call," he rumbled.
"Because I knew it would get ugly if you got involved. I handled it. It's okay."
But something bad had happened. Probably someone had died. Eddie tried not to push. He knew Nick would tell him eventually.
"I need a shower," the younger man said and pushed past him.
Eddie fought down the need to follow.
Instead he waited, pacing, hating the smell of another wolf on Nick, hating the fact that he hadn't been there, and annoyed that Nick hadn't called.
After more pacing he finally went and made coffee.
Nick took the mug gratefully when he came out of the shower, dressed in loose sweat pants and an old t-shirt. Eddie took an appreciative whiff, as well as a lingering look, and finally gave in to his need. He curled an arm around the slender waist and he kissed the damp neck, gracing his teeth over sensitive skin, and he Nick shivered.
"You should have called," he rumbled again.
"You know how it would have ended. Badly. I remember the first time."
"I'm better now."
Balanced. Mated.
Of course he would defend his mate, but just like he had learned to tolerate red, he knew he could face another of his kind without turning primal. At least on Nick. The other blutbad was another matter altogether.
"I know, Eddie, I know."
"So what happened? Missing girls again?"
"No. A simple shooting gone bad. The victim was a blutbad."
Eddie drew back, shocked.
"Not the intended target. The guy tried to kill his girlfriend because she had left him, but she ran and his aim was off. He hit an innocent bystander."
"A blutbad."
"Yeah. Thing is, she wasn't alone."
"Mated pair?"
"Yeah. He went after the shooter and things got even messier."
"He's dead?" Eddie asked tonessly.
"No. The shooter was pretty badly mauled and we don't know if he will make it through the next twenty-four hours."
"You let him go?" the blutbad asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice.
"Yes, I let him go, Eddie," Nick replied, voice suddenly colder. He pushed away. "I didn't decapitate or shoot him. Is that so hard to believe?"
Eddie stared at the Grimm, so very surprised and suddenly more than a little tense. The inner wolf was reacting to the dangerous air the man radiated unconsciously. And he was reacting by backing down.
"No, it's not hard to believe, Nick," he answered. "But you're a cop and you keep telling me that creatures will be handled the same as humans."
"He didn't kill anyone. The shooter did. He killed an innocent woman." Nick ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "I don't know if you guys have better healing capabilities than a human, but even if she had survived… I think she might have been paralyzed for life."
Eddie swallowed hard. A handicapped blutbad was dead anyway. "We're a bit more resilient, but we don't regenerate. That's fiction."
He carefully approached the other man and when Nick didn't tense up, he allowed himself to caress one side. A feather-light, almost apologetic touch.
"I'm not surprised by what you did, Nick. It's what I've seen you do again and again. You're not a slayer. You respect the creature world."
Nick looked suddenly tired. Exhausted. This had taken a toll on him.
"Get some rest," Eddie advised.
Another sigh.
Eddie rolled his eyes. "I knew you would be high maintenance. What was I thinking?" he said, letting mock exasperation bleed into his voice.
"The sex is okay," Nick quipped.
"Okay?"
"Hm, you're saying I'm fantastic in bed?"
The wolf happily took note of the lighter side in Nick's voice. "I wouldn't say you are… I was more thinking of myself…"
"You're not that bad."
"What?"
"A little possessive."
"Pot - kettle."
Nick drew him into a lazy kiss. "Want to prove your prowess?"
"Not to a man who's going to fall asleep halfway through," Eddie told him with a frown, though part of him was sitting up and taking notice.
"Am not."
"I'm not betting with you. Shoo, bed."
Nick complied, which spoke length about his condition. He was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, and Eddie watched him with a mixture of fond amusement and a trickle of worry.
x x x x x x
"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" he asked over breakfast omelets the next morning, sharp eyes on the Grimm.
Nick didn't look at him, simply pushed some eggs around his plate.
"Nick."
Gray eyes met his.
"Why?"
"He wasn't a bad guy, Eddie," was the soft reply. "He didn't plan this because he's an evil monster. He reacted out of grief. His mate was killed."
"Does he know a Grimm let him go?"
Nick was silent, studying the mess of eggs and bacon on his plate. "Yeah."
"Must have been quite a shock for him."
"Maybe. It was… a bit hairy."
Eddie studied the hard lines in his partner's face, noted the tension in the slender body. Of course it had been hairy. Blutbaden recognized Grimms a lot easier than other creatures and the wolf Nick had let go would probably be unable to understand why.
"But you let him run away."
Silence. Then, "I'm not a killer. I said so before. He went after the shooter for revenge. It isn't a blutbad thing, Eddie. It's an emotional reaction."
The wolf studied his companion. A Grimm and a cop. Things got mixed together and maybe, just maybe, it was the middle way. Maybe this was what the Grimms had been in the beginning. Not just hunters or executioners.
"You did good, Nick," he simply said.
The gray eyes were wide and held a vulnerable air, but deep inside the Grimm was the unbreakable core. The hard, sharp edge.
"It was a senseless death. So many are. This time it hit a blutbad. How can I be sure that letting the man go might not make him a killer, Eddie? What if he starts hunting humans because of what happened to his mate?"
Eddie had no answer for that because he knew what he would do should someone kill Nick, accidentally or on purpose. Wieder-blutbad or not, he wouldn't care any longer.
Nick went back to shoving omelet pieces across his plate. He finally pushed away from the table.
"I need to run," he muttered.
Five minutes later Nick was heading down the street and toward the park, wearing warm running clothes against the cold, and Eddie watched him with a frown.
