#idk i'm trying to figure out this au i'm throwing darts at plot points and seeing what sticks

[misscrazyfangirl321]

EC: I did it while you were asleep. I hope you don't mind.

Have some Grimm!Will. 

-

“I did it while you were asleep. I hope you don’t mind.” 

His mouth opens and closes a few times, as he grapples for the words. He’d fallen asleep in his trailer-not an uncommon occurrence these days-and now he’s awake, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. 

What was once a chaotic mess of paperwork is now neat and tidy, with books in alphabetical order on the shelves, and stray paper stuck in files. In the midst of it all stands Helen Magnus, in a rare state of disarray: a few strands of her hair have come loose from her ponytail, sticking in all directions, and her clothes are caked in dust. Her smile, though, is warm, satisfied, and just a bit tentative, waiting for his reaction. 

The mess had been his mother’s, and though he’s tried several times to straighten it, it has always proven too overwhelming, too exhausting. And she just.... Did it for him. Just like that. 

“I...” She’s still waiting for a response, and he clears his throat, trying to collect his thoughts. “Thank you, Helen. Really, I don’t-I don’t know what to say.” 

She brightens, grin widening, and waves him off. “Now that you’re awake, I have work for you. I brought over a few more old files, and one from this morning.” 

This morning? He glances at his watch, and winces. A nap is one thing, but he really does try to avoid spending the night in his trailer; it leaves the worst crick in his neck, and he never feels very rested. 

Still, he can’t dwell on that right now. He has work to do. 

The files are in a neat stack on his desk, just inches from his makeshift pillow. Had she really gotten so close to him without waking him? His Grimm senses are supposed to be better than that. (Apparently, they already don’t register her as a threat. He can’t decide if that’s sweet or foolish; she’s one of the most dangerous people he’s ever met, but already, he trusts her implicitly.) 

He reaches for the top file-the most recent, of course; Helen Magnus is nothing if not efficient-mentally shifting into work mode. She regularly brings him files, both old and new, to peruse and check for Wesen activity. It’s not foolproof-he can’t guarantee anything from a piece of paper-but he’s been doing this for long enough that he knows the signs. 

Helen makes no move to leave, just perches at the edge of his desk, waiting for his verdict. It should make him uncomfortable, someone watching him work like that-should leave him feeling rushed and impatient-but it doesn’t. He has neither the time nor the energy to figure out why at the moment. 

The file itself is pretty straightforward: a homicide that he normally wouldn’t even consider Abnormal, much less Wesen. But the victim is a name he recognizes: Evan Richards, a Bauerschwein he’s worked with in the past. He’s not quite sure what about the case caught Helen’s eye, but he knows a Blutbad or two that he wants to question before he dismisses this as an accident. 

He looks up. “He was Wesen. Bauerschwein. That’s like-” 

“A pig?” She arches a brow at his surprise. “I do speak German, Will.” 

Of course she does. “Exactly how many languages do you know? No, don’t answer that,” he adds when she actually starts counting on her fingers, head tilted thoughtfully. “But I should have you take a look at some of these. I don’t even know what half of them say.” His ancestors’ books are only as helpful as his understanding of them. 

“Ah, so now you’re putting me to work.” 

“Only fair.” 

“Technically, you’re my employee.” 

“Technically, you’re in my trailer.” 

She makes a dismissive noise, but her eyes are dancing. “I suppose I could spare some time. Now, though, where are we going?” She nods to the file in explanation. 

He rattles off an address-Carl Kenny, a Blutbad who lives just a few blocks from Richards-rising to his feet. They head to her car (it’s better than his, he has to admit, even if her driving terrifies him sometimes), pausing so he can lock the trailer on the way out. 

Most Grimms would probably ask Helen to turn around, so she wouldn’t see where he keeps the spare key. Then again, he’s never been most Grimms.