Not sure how many chapters this will be, but I was re-watching Grimm and I enjoyed the interaction between Monroe and Roddy (the violin kid). So I'm giving them some more scenes together, starting with the Danse Macabre trailer scene from Roddy's POV.
The knock as soon as he brought the Brahms to a close was unexpected, and Roddy sighed and set his violin down. It was probably one of his aunts or uncles given the time of night and the fact that someone would have heard that Dad had been arrested by now. An irritating consequence of having a large extended family, even if neither he nor Dad were close to any of them.
The fact that he didn't have a lot of friends helped narrow the list down fast too.
He stalked over to the door and pushed it open. Stupid police and stupid Grimms who didn't even care that Dad would never have done anything like what had happened to Dr. Lawson, and stupid relatives who only stopped by to be assholes too.
"You were kicking some butt on that Brahms concerto, man," a man Roddy was pretty sure he'd never met said before he could even open his mouth. "It was brilliantly executed." He waved a hand. "Very fluid."
Roddy stared because as much as he appreciated compliments on his music, especially from someone who sounded like he might have some idea what he was talking about, complete strangers knocking on his door to discuss his violin playing was new. "Who are you?"
"Monroe. We don't know each other. I'm a friend of Detective Burkhardt's."
Detective Burkhardt meaning Detective Grimm, and Roddy would be just as happy never hearing about him again. He grabbed the knob and started to pull the door shut. "No thanks."
"Ah!"
A hand—a hand that had started to woge into a claw—came around the door and pulled it right back open, and Roddy stumbled backwards because shit there was a Blutbad at his door. And then there was a Blutbad in his house, one big enough that he'd practically had to duck to enter, and Roddy's breath caught as he realized that he had nowhere to run.
"I wasn't finished." The Blutbad pulled the door shut behind him and turned to face Roddy. "Now, I don't normally do this kind of thing."
'This kind of thing' being what, stopping by on an evening to eat—or maybe just beat, although the Grimm could have done that himself easily enough—random Reinigen violinists? Thankfully Roddy's throat was too dry for him to even think about giving voice to that smart ass thought, and he shifted in place and tried to decide if he could get away with backing up a little more. He was nowhere near out of striking range, not with this guy's wingspan.
The part of him that had survived almost four years at an elite private school was telling him that cowering was the wrong thing to do. That he needed to hold his ground, to not act like prey. The rest of him, though? It said that that was a Blutbad and he was a Reinigen and he was fucking prey.
"But we both know who Nick is," the Blutbad went on as if he didn't even notice Roddy's fear. "And he is not like the other ones we've heard about. Capiche?"
Roddy's eyes stayed on the Blutbad's. Detective Grimm was, amazingly enough, not his primary concern right this second.
"Believe it or not, he's worried about you. And he knew you wouldn't talk to him, so he thought maybe you would talk to me."
Surprise shook a few brain cells loose, and Roddy blinked and stepped back towards the couch. "About what?" Blutbaden weren't exactly well known for their conversational skills, but now that he thought about it they didn't have a reputation for doing favors for Grimms either. He had no clue what was going on right now.
"About not being stupid."
Roddy sat down. Really no clue.
"He said you had talent, man," the Blutbad continued. "And it's true. I just heard it."
That was enough to make Roddy look away for a minute because even if it was true—and it was; he knew it—other Wesen didn't exactly like acknowledging that kind of thing about Reinigen. That not only a Blutbad but also a Grimm had done so was insane.
"And I've been around a lot of people who thought they had talent," he continued as Roddy looked back up. "Yours truly is one of them. But the real thing, man. The real thing is an impossibility. You don't know where it comes from, or what made it, but it's one of the mysteries of life that lifts us all out of the misery of average."
That...didn't really clear anything up. But if the Blutbad really just wanted to lecture him or whatever, Roddy could live with that. Far better a lecture than a beating.
Or getting eaten.
The Blutbad took a step closer. "And one of the problems is, you people who have it don't think it's any big deal. That just pisses me off."
And shit. Shit, shit, shit. A pissed off Blutbad was exactly what Roddy had wanted to avoid, especially since said Blutbad was now glaring down at him. He swallowed and kept on with the whole mouth shut thing.
"So the bottom line is you don't throw that away." The Blutbad was suddenly calm again, and Roddy watched him cautiously as his forehead wrinkled and he dropped into a chair so they were at eye level. Or as close as they were going to get, anyway. "Is this going well? I mean, I feel like it should be a little more back and forth, no?"
"I don't know," Roddy managed.
The look that got him was distinctly exasperated, an awful lot like the ones he sometimes got from his teachers—the non-asshole ones, anyway, who didn't spend all their time looking down their noses at him—when they thought he was being deliberately obtuse. "Yeah, you do."
Roddy ducked his head automatically before making himself look up again.
"Just 'cause you're young doesn't mean you're smarter than me." The Blutbad met Roddy's eyes steadily for a moment and then pushed himself back to his feet. "Okay? So..." He blew out a breath. "Basically what we're saying here is, uh, just don't blow it." One hand went to his forehead. "Man, I'm tired. I'm not used to this intimate one-on-one thing, you know?"
And shit again because abrupt smile and chuckle or not—or maybe that just made it worse—he was suddenly in the chair beside the couch, and Roddy shrank back instinctively. This guy was way too big, and he moved way too fast.
His expression shifted again, turning sympathetic of all things. "I know you're probably kind of weirded out, a Reinigen getting advice from a Blutbad. It doesn't ever really happen. But listen to me."
Roddy would be very happy if he could reach weirded out from his current state of general terror so he kept his eyes on the Blutbad's and didn't argue.
"Sometimes our lives collide in the most bizarre ways." Another smile. "Right?"
Silence fell for a few moments since Roddy still had no idea what to say to any of this.
"Still nothing? Okay."
And fuck, the Blutbad touched him, but Roddy barely had time to be aware of the gentle pressure against his shoulder before the hand was gone again and the Blutbad was pushing himself back to his feet.
"Well, you know what I'm saying. Right?"
Roddy got to his feet as well, mostly because he wasn't sure what else to do.
"Take care. And if you ever need anything," he paused and dug around in his pocket for a moment before holding out a card, and Roddy was too surprised to do anything but take it. "Call me."
He was out the door while Roddy was trying to make his mouth work, and it was almost a relief when the phone rang and distracted him. At least until the man on the other end of the line spoke.
