It wasn't right. She never should have looked, should have spoken to or watched. She knew well enough that if she spoke to him she wouldn't leave. Not only would he be happy to meet someone else like him he would be ecstatic that it was her. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it. He had a life, a stable home and companion.

She was demanding, insistent. Her goals could not be met simply by working alongside him in Portland. He would ask for advice, she would give it, and he would solve the case. They would work together, celebrate together, just like when they were kids, and she would stay. All the while she would hate herself for not having the strength. The strength to give into the pull to continue on, to fulfill her duty as a Grimm, but she could reason with herself to well now.

Just one more case- we Grimms should stick together anyway right? And it would be this never ending circle.

She remembers the night his parents died. He had called her, asking why the world was so bad, why he had to live without them. She hadn't known what to say. What could she say? A boy had just lost his family, what was there to say, really?

He stuck close to her then, like glue, and his aunt seemed approving of her, but she never understood why, until years later.

When she was planning on going off to college, her grandfather had passed away, and things started to change. She saw things, saw monsters in everyday people, and no one knew why. They told her she was crazy, they wanted to put her in a white room with pills and strait jackets, but she couldn't bring herself to think she'd lost her sanity. She had always prided herself on her sound mind; with absent parents she raised herself, before Aunt Marie.

She'd hadn't had the heart to tell her best friend, who was now off getting his degree in Criminal Justice that she wasn't in California like he thought, and that she was fighting these waking nightmares everyday. He would have come for her. She just knew it. He would have flown back and taken her in, helped her, watched over her, and she just couldn't do that to him. He sounded so happy, finally doing something worthwhile, for the first time, he always said to her. So she lied, said that school was just taking up so much time, that she was sorry she couldn't make it back to town for Christmas. She always wondered what he would have done had he learned she was less than twenty miles from him that Christmas, stark white walls on all sides with no windows or definable doors.

Marie came a year later- news having reached her finally.

Things quickly got better. She explained what she was, told her how different, how special she really was.

They trained, Marie taught her everything, showed her a trailer full of the stuff her nightmares were forged.

For two years they called her crazy, and a part of her started to believe it. That night, the first time in the trailer, was when a breath she hadn't been realizing she'd been holding for all those years was finally released from her lungs.

She became a reaper of reapers of sorts. Her grandfather- her only stable father figure had not died by a heart attacked like they claimed- he too had been killed. The only reason her family had moved to Portland was to collaborate with the Burkhart family, and they had all ended up dead.

The rage she felt that day, it kept her fueled for years, and it was still a key idea that kept her going.

She and he had lost contact over the years. She had gone to his graduation, and parted ways with him, though he didn't out-right know that yet. She and hugged him, told him she loved him, and let go- literally and figuratively.

Marie said that he may not have the gene, and if he did, it hadn't manifested yet. She couldn't keep contact, it would have been too dangerous, and so she left.

But now she was in Portland, saying goodbye to Marie, the only family she had had in years, and she was nearly spotted by him. Marie told her of his romance, of his impending engagement. It didn't surprise her that the older woman knew of her affections for her nephew, the woman practically knew everything about her.

She said her goodbyes, but not before she found the place he called home- just to see- to make sure he was happy.

He was.

His soon-to-be-fiancée was lovely. Long auburn hair, soft features coupled with a gentle spirit. She was perfect for him; she was an escape from the walking nightmares he was just recently introduced to. The woman had everything she could never give him. She was a healer, someone to come home to, not a warrior to go home with.

She never should have looked, let alone spoken to.

Marie needed to be watched, and so she watched, albeit much more stealthily than the Bluebot. When he lured away an assailant, two more appeared.

It was a quick battle, she fought with vengeance, and Marie had laughed- telling her everything she knew was of the dying woman's teaching.

He had walked in then. Gun leveled at her head, ready to defend his Aunt if need be, and froze when she turned.

Her brown hair was the same, a bit longer and a little wild from the fight, but she knew his attention remained on her eyes.

They had known each other so well at one time, he said she betrayed nothing but through her eyes. She knew what he saw in them now- danger.

Her fury was one of legend; reapers spoke of her eyes as liquid death.

They had been so gentle, so loving at his graduation, it must have been a bit of a shock.

His gun lowered but his focus never wavered.

She wondered if he missed her, if he ever thought of her like she had thought of him. If he knew how hard it was not to answer when he called, or call him on his many birthdays that she missed.

The Bluebot returned and looked befuddled, but his green eyes never left her deep brown ones.

"Olive?" his voice was one laced with confusion and nothing else.

It wasn't right. She never should have looked, should have spoken to or watched. She knew well enough that if she spoke to him she wouldn't leave. Not only would he be happy to meet someone else like him he would be ecstatic that it was her. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it. He had a life, a stable home and companion.

She was demanding, insistent. Her goals could not be met simply by working alongside him in Portland. He would ask for advice, she would give it, and he would solve the case. They would work together, celebrate together, just like when they were kids, and she would stay. All the while she would hate herself for not having the strength. The strength to give into the pull to continue on, to fulfill her duty as a Grimm, but she could reason with herself to well now.

Just one more case- we Grimms should stick together anyway right? And it would be this never ending circle.

So just a little oneshot, my best friend wants Nick with another woman, (though she does like Juliette) and says she should be a Grimm, so I wrote a little one shot for her ;) Thanks for reading!