"I Didn't Know You Cared"
(John Grimm x Reader – Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Fluff | Happy Ending)
You’d always believed that working alongside someone you secretly cared about would be challenging. But working beside John Grimm? It was suffocating.
It wasn’t that he was cruel, or even rude. No, John was the definition of professionalism. Polite. Efficient. Calm. Detached. Especially around you.
That detachment was the sharpest knife. He could laugh with Duke, throw banter around with Destroyer, even exchange comfortable silences with Samantha. But with you… it was like there was a wall. Conversations were clipped, eye contact minimal, any lingering glances quickly diverted.
At first, you told yourself it was nothing. He was just stoic. Reserved. But it became impossible to ignore — the way his shoulders stiffened when you entered a room, the way he kept his answers short, how he found reasons to be anywhere but next to you unless the mission demanded it.
You’d fallen for him anyway. Hard. It was reckless. Stupid. But when does the heart ever listen to reason?
The cruel part was thinking that maybe — just maybe — he could feel something too. But every quiet, cold encounter stomped that tiny hope flatter.
Eventually, the conclusion became inescapable. He didn’t like you. Hell, maybe he even disliked you.
It gnawed at you until the idea became unbearable: why stay somewhere you clearly weren’t wanted? Why torture yourself watching someone you loved make a point of keeping his distance?
You didn’t tell him. Didn’t tell anyone aside from the minimum transfer request. Quietly accepted a new assignment on a remote research outpost, filed the paperwork, packed your things, and left under the cover of silence. No dramatic confrontations, no goodbyes.
John realized something was wrong the second he walked into the debriefing room and your chair was empty. Not just empty — cleared. No datapads, no jacket lazily tossed over the back like usual. Nothing.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” he asked, trying to keep his tone steady.
Duke, glancing up from his tablet, blinked. “Didn’t you hear? She transferred. Left last night.”
The world tilted under John’s feet. For a second, he was sure he’d misheard. “What?”
“Yeah, she put in for reassignment. Gone. Like, gone-gone.” Duke looked genuinely surprised. “Didn’t say anything to you?”
John didn’t respond. Couldn’t. His mouth had gone dry. His pulse roared in his ears. Something hot and ugly unfurled in his chest, wrapping tight around his ribs.
No goodbye. No explanation. No message. Just… gone.
For a moment, the ever-stoic, controlled Sergeant Grimm forgot how to breathe. The ache hit harder than any wound he’d ever taken.
He left the room without another word, fists clenched, storming down the corridor, jaw so tight it trembled.
The truth was, John knew exactly why you’d left.
Because he was a coward. Because he’d spent every moment pulling away, hiding how he felt, building walls he thought would protect both of you.
It was safer that way, wasn’t it? Keeping his distance meant he wouldn’t screw it up. Wouldn’t drag you into the mess of his own broken pieces. Wouldn’t risk losing something as rare and terrifying as you.
But in trying to protect himself — protect you — he’d hurt you. Badly enough that you’d walked away.
A raw, gnawing guilt chewed through him.
He punched the nearest wall hard enough that his knuckles split, blood dripping down his fingers, but it didn’t make the pain inside any quieter.
John had never been one to beg. Never chased anyone. Never needed to. But this? You?
He’d burn the whole goddamn system down if that’s what it took.
Tracking you down wasn’t easy. Your transfer orders were buried under layers of bureaucracy. Redacted files. Scrambled logs. But John was relentless. Pushed through command channels, hacked what he had to, leaned on every favor owed.
When he finally found you, stationed at a remote research station on Titan’s outer rim, he wasted no time. No hesitation. Caught the next available transport, pacing the entire trip, fingers twitching with restless energy.
His head spun with all the words he should have said. All the chances he’d wasted. If you never wanted to see him again, he’d deserve it — every ounce of it. But he had to try.
When the shuttle docked, he barely waited for the airlock to finish cycling before he was moving, boots heavy against the metal floor, scanning every hallway until he spotted your name on a lab door.
His heart pounded so hard it hurt.
There you were. Sitting at a workstation, focused, oblivious.
For a second, he just stood there, breath caught in his throat. Seeing you again was like getting hit square in the chest — the sharp, painful kind of relief that almost knocks you over.
Then his voice, hoarse, broke the silence. “(Y/N).”
You stiffened, then slowly turned, eyes going wide when you saw him.
“John?” you whispered. “What… What are you doing here?”
His jaw worked, trying to form the words, but they came out low, strained, raw. “Why did you leave without saying anything?”
You stood abruptly, heart hammering, every inch of you tightening defensively. “I… I didn’t think you’d care.”
The moment those words left your mouth, something shattered in his expression. All that steel and control he always wore cracked, giving way to something hollow, aching.
“You didn’t think I’d care?” he repeated, barely above a whisper. “God.”
John closed the distance in two steps but stopped just short of touching you, hands fisted at his sides like he was physically restraining himself. His voice trembled when he spoke.
“(Y/N)… I’ve been in love with you for so long I don’t even know when it started. And I’ve been… hiding it. Running from it. From you.” His eyes closed briefly, and when they opened, they were raw, unguarded. “Because I was terrified. Of screwing it up. Of not being good enough. Of dragging you into my mess.”
Your lips parted, breath shallow, stunned. “You… You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.” His voice broke. “And the worst part? I thought staying away would protect you. Would protect me. But all I did was push you away. I watched you leave because I was too much of a coward to tell you the truth.”
The ache that had lived in your chest for so long started to twist into something else — disbelief, anger, relief, all tangled up. “John… I thought you hated me. I left because I— I couldn’t stay. It hurt too much.”
His hands trembled as they slowly, cautiously lifted, hovering near your face like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch you. “You didn’t have to go. I didn’t want you to go. I never wanted you to go.”
Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “You idiot,” you whispered. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”
John let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob — a broken, disbelieving thing — before surging forward and cupping your face in his hands. The kiss that followed was messy and desperate, more teeth than lips, all tangled breath and shaky hands. A kiss that said where the hell have you been and don’t ever leave me again.
When he finally pulled back, he kept his forehead pressed against yours, eyes closed like he was afraid this was a dream. His voice dropped, softer than you’d ever heard it. “I’m not letting you go again. Not now. Not ever.”
“Good,” you whispered, smiling through the tears. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
He kissed you again, slower this time, like he wanted to memorize it.
It took less than a week for John to pull every string necessary to get your transfer reversed. When you arrived back at Olduvai, walking beside him, fingers intertwined, the rest of the squad had a field day.
Duke let out a long whistle. “About damn time.”
Destroyer just grinned and shook his head. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
John ignored them completely, arm possessively slung around your waist, his usual stoic mask replaced with a softness no one else ever got to see.
You leaned into him, heart finally settled, finally safe.
For John Grimm — a man made of scars and silence — the realization was simple.
Home wasn’t a place. It wasn’t a mission. It was you.
And he was never letting you go again.
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