Disclaimer: Grimm doesn't belong to me, not making any money or anything like that.
Written for belladonna_izy for the grimm-exchange on dreamwidth.
Renegotiation
Ever since his aunt's untimely death - no, it started before that, when he first began to see the 'true faces' of Wesen - but, ever since then Nick has felt... ill at ease.
He tries not to dwell on his... inheritance too much, but lately it seems like all of his cases have involved Wesen in some form or another. Anonymous people he happens to pass on the streets are suddenly something different. Nick wonders if he'll ever get used to seeing human face morph into animalistic features.
He tells himself that they're just normal people, changing facial features aside, and for the most part he believes it too, but he can't help that niggling question at the back of his mind whenever he's in a situation with people he isn't familiar with. Could they be Wesen? Monroe's told him that he only sees a creature for what it is when they lose control.
Marie told him to trust his instincts, but there are so many things that Nick simply doesn't knowthat it's hard to know what to do. Traditions and blood feuds and biological imperatives that he can't begin to comprehend, no matter how helpful his ancestors' accounts on the various Wesen might be. He takes what knowledge he manages to glean from the dusty books in Marie's trailer and uses it in his cases, trying to resolve things using human laws on beings that are not wholly human, but it's hard, sometimes.
Nick wonders if he does the right thing. He's tried to do everything Marie told him to - he broke things off with Juliette, returned the engagement ring he'd bought the day Marie came back into his life, and he's done his best to hunt the 'bad ones'. His instincts haven't led him wrong so far, but if he's honest with himself, even with the hours he spends poring over the books in the trailer and the help he gets from Monroe, he's barely treading water.
It's only a matter of time before something comes along that won't give him time to regroup after he catches a glimpse of their true face and go research them or get information from Monroe.
It itches under Nick's skin, everything he doesn't know and yet so desperately needs to know. There's something- off. He can't put it into words, the feeling that there's something going on around him just outside the realm of his awareness. Why are so many of his cases Wesen-related? Nick can't say for certain whether or not his pre-inheritance cases involved Wesen, but looking back at them, he can't imagine that most of them did as they seem to now.
He hates the feeling of helplessness, the frustration that claws at the back of his throat when he sees another Wesen that doesn't look remotely familiar.
It seems like no matter how many books Nick reads, there's always more waiting for him. While most of the Wesen he crosses paths with are harmless - whether that's due to their individual nature or their instinctive reaction to the supposedly ultimate predator that he embodies as a Grimm - but he hates not knowing.
Usually, when Nick needs a distraction from something that's troubling him in his life, he throws himself into his work. It's a bit harder to do so when his work has featured Wesen so prominently lately.
The coincidence is suspicious, to say the least.
It seems like Nick's latest case fits the pattern as well. Congenital analgesia, and abnormally dense bones? It could just be the manifestation of a rare condition, but coupled with the other information that Hank has told him about Oleg Stark - his insistence about being paid only in gold, and how he seemingly 'fell out of the sky' - it sets alarms off in Nick's mind.
The general feeling of wrongonly intensifies when Nick reaches the burned-out husk that was Stark's stolen vehicle. There's a prickling at the back of his neck, like someone's watching him, but when Nick turns to scan the area, there doesn't seem to be anyone there. The feeling doesn't let up, though.
"Something wrong, Nick?" Renard asks, startling him out of his thoughts.
He turns back, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. It can easily be passed off as a product of the case, though - and in a way, it is. "Nothing, Captain," he lies, though it's so very tempting to confess everything that has been going on in his life lately. Talking to Monroe is one thing, but Renard doesn't know anything about Wesen; Nick wouldn't even know where to start.
Renard's eyes are piercing as always, like he knows that Nick isn't telling the truth. When Nick first met the captain, he'd noticed that knowing look. It's certainly unnerving for anyone who's done wrong.
Not that Nick has done wrong, exactly. But it's natural to feel guilty about lying to a superior, isn't it?
"You'd better go home," is all Renard says, his gaze flicking away to scan the area as Nick had done a few moments earlier. "There's nothing else that we can learn from this wreck." There's a definite edge in his voice, but Nick's hard-pressed to place it. Vexation, maybe?
Nick goes, though he makes a stop at the trailer to see if 'congenital analgesia' yields anything in his books. With Juliette gone, it's not like he has any reason to hurry home.
Frustratingly, modern-day medical conditions aren't referenced in dusty old tomes. There are a few entries that seem promising, but without seeing Stark face to face - something Nick wouldn't want to do, anyway; the man was dangerous- there's no way of confirming if his suspicions are correct.
All Nick can do is commit the pertinent facts to memory as best he can and drive home.
The house is dark when he gets there, but that's no surprise. Months later, he's almost used to coming back to an empty house. Nick misses Juliette fiercely, but the more Wesen he meets, the more convinced he becomes that Marie was right. As the lover of a cop, Juliette was in danger as it was, but now that he's apparently the feared and reviled boogeyman of unpredictable Wesen?
Nick shakes his head, banishing thoughts of Juliette from his mind. What's done is done. He can only focus on the present and hope things will get better - easier - in the future.
Stark's next target will be Hank, the last person linked to Stark's incarceration. Hank is safe at the station, effectively tying Stark's hands. Nick wonders what the man will do in the meantime. Does he even know Hank's in protective custody?
Going through the motions of making himself dinner is mind-numbing enough that Nick zones out as he sets a pot of water to boil for soup.
Branches cracking outside the back window startle him from his thoughts. Nick wanders closer, squinting into the darkness beyond the glass. There's nothing that he can see, but the feeling in the back of his mind that he's come to consider his Grimm instinct is telling him to leave, now.
"Damn raccoons," he mutters, like saying the words will make them real. It was just some stupid raccoons. There isn't a vengeful murderer lurking out there, wanting to know the location of Nick's partner so he could finish his revenge.
As soon as the thought occurs to him, a huge shape crashes through the window, right into Nick.
Stark.
Nick goes for his gun, but the larger man slaps it out of his hand then throws him halfway across the room.
"Where is he?" Stark demands, stalking over to where Nick's lying stunned and breathless on the floor. His face shifts, bulging out into a shape similar to one that Nick was staring at not an hour before.
Stark's a Siegbarste, then - not that knowing that is going to help Nick in this situation.
"Where is he?" Stark repeats, and proceeds to toss Nick around the main floor like he's little more than a ragdoll. All attempts at fighting back seem to have no effect on the Siegbarste whatsoever.
And then the man pauses. "... Grimm," Stark says, sounding faintly surprised. There's recognition in the dull, vicious eyes but none of the fear that Nick has become accustomed to seeing.
Though it's clear that Nick is no threat to him anyway. If he wasn't in such a terrifying situation, Nick might even find it ironic that the one Wesen who isn't afraid of him on sight is one that intends to kill him.
"Where is he?" the Siegbarste snarls once more, destroying another piece of furniture with Nick's body.
"I-" Nick pants, chest aching with each breath that he takes. His mind races, trying to find a way out of this situation. He lives alone, and even if he didn't, it's not like a normal person would be able to help him. Even if a neighbour calls the cops, Stark will be long gone by the time they get here. "He's-"
Stark looms over him and Nick cringes back against the floor, just waiting for Stark to haul him up and throw him somewhere else. Through the wall, maybe. That's just about the only intact thing left.
"Siegbarste," a familiar voice, edged with unfamiliar anger - no, fury- interrupts them.
Even if he hadn't been breathless with pain and fear, Nick probably would have simply sat there and gaped to see his captain standing in the entrance, pointing a gun at Stark.
What was Renard even doinghere? And was that a... crown? The angles of Renard's face seem sharper, somehow; his eyes a brighter, impossible shade of green.
Stark straightens, his huge hands clenching and unclenching - was he seriously afraidof Renard? Bullets had little effect on the Siegbarste, so why-?
"Prince," Stark growls, advancing on Renard. His tone is anything but respectful, though.
It takes Nick a moment to process that. Prince!Nothing seems to be making sense.
"As sovereign of this canton, I hereby sanction the execution of Oleg Stark," Renard says coldly, not backing down a step.
"Try it," Stark snarls, suddenly rushing him.
Renard raises the gun slightly and fires off two shots in quick succession.
Nick winces, covering his face with his mostly uninjured arm. There's a resounding thud, and when he looks again Stark is lying on the floor, a pool of blood spreading from beneath his head.
"Are you all right, Nick?" Renard is kneeling at his side, mindless of the shattered remains of glass and wood surrounding him.
"Am I-?" Nick dissolves into breathless coughing, unable to fully voice the incredulous 'am I all right' that he wants to.
"Nothing fatal?" Renard quickly amends, his too-green, assessing gaze not leaving Nick's body even as he pulls out his cell phone.
Nick shakes his head, hoping that this isn't a lie. Everything hurts, but not even as bad as that time he broke his arm in high school.
"You-" knew, he wants to demand, or accuse, but Renard shushes him as someone answers his call. From the brief conversation, Nick assumes he called 911.
"What... are you," Nick asks slowly, hating the rasp in his voice and the constriction in his throat that threatens to close up entirely.
Renard's face shutters, the worry and anger Nick had seen warring there hidden behind an impassive mask. The crown disappears as his face softens into familiar lines. "Royalty," he says shortly, his tone unreadable.
"No shit," Nick hisses, torn between exhaustion, relief and anger. He's edging towards anger, though.
Renard stiffens. "You should show me some respect," he snaps, his eyes momentarily flickering to that impossible shade of green.
Not unlike the way Monroe's eyes shift to red when he's agitated, though Renard is obviously no Blutbad. He's a prince.
Nick laughs, ignoring the burn in his chest until he can't and he starts wheezing again.
"Nick-" Renard starts to say, reaching out like he's about to help Nick sit up.
Whether he actually does or not remains a mystery, because it's at that point that Nick passes out.
Renard is many things, but he does not think of himself as delusional or unrealistic. Fallible, certainly; ambitious- proudly so. Yet he has never considered himself to be delusional. Lying is easy as breathing - it's amazing what charisma and an authoritative attitude can get people to believe - but never before has Renard lied so thoroughly to himself.
In retrospect, it's glaringly obvious.
True, having a Grimm under his control would be a valuable asset, but Renard is pragmatic (ruthless) enough to recognize that protecting Nick can just as easily weaken his position as Portland's ruler. Simple-minded Wesen (even his otherwise faultlessly-loyal Hexenbiests have questioned his association with Nick in their way) can only see the bloody history behind the Grimms, and none of the potential benefit that allying with such a being might bring.
That last point is how Renard has been justifying his continued protection of the Grimm. Other Wesen couldn't see the bigger picture, couldn't understand the possibilities that having a Grimm on his side could bring. Nick was not some bloodthirsty monster hunter- in his own way, he is more tolerant than some Wesen: he doesn't discriminate between predator and prey and doesn't care about the food chain that is a large part of what governs Wesen society. Renard, however, couldsee that potential, which was why he had protected Nick from the reapers and other threats.
But that excuse is, well, just an excuse. Renard may be a royal, but that doesn't mean he can simply do whatever he wants. There were his subjects to consider, particularly the influential ones.
Sending a reaper off with a warning was acceptable; slicing his ear off with his own scythe did not, exactly, fall into the same category. The Ferrat have not made any move against him yet, but Renard doubts they have forgiven or forgotten the incident.
If pressed, Renard would say that he was simply protecting an... asset, but he knows that he'd let his emotions get the better of him. Hearing the nameless reaper threaten Nick had made him furious, and he'd lost control.
Renard's initial interest in Nick might have been strictly political, but it has become far more personal, now. If he was as pragmatic as he liked to think of himself, he wouldn't have let things go on as they have.
He could have easily approached Nick when he was vulnerable from his aunt's death and basically clueless about the world he'd been abruptly thrust into. The young man already trusted Renard - it would not have been difficult to further bind Nick to him. All he'd have needed to do was lend Nick a helping hand and a sympathetic ear, rather than leaving the new Grimm to blunder around trying to understand the complexities of Wesen culture.
But Renard hadn't. Something had held him back, the knowledge that he'd been the one behind Marie Kessler's death - even if he hadn't been the one to kill her himself - hanging over his head every time he considered doing so.
He didn't regret having Kessler killed, but even before he'd become a Grimm Nick had been one of Renard's favoured subordinates - seeing the wreck the young man became after his aunt's death and the break up that he seemed to have initiated at his aunt's behest was almost painful. Renard knew he was at least partially at fault for that. It would have left a sour taste in his mouth to take advantage of the pain Nick felt, knowing that he was indirectly the cause of it.
And now Nick is lying unconscious in a hospital room, thanks to a vengeful Siegbarste.
Whenever Renard thinks about what might have happened if he'd been a few minutes later-
"Your Highness," Adalind murmurs, lightly touching his arm.
"What is it?" he demands irritably, turning away from the open doorway and the injured detective within.
Adalind shrugs. "Nothing, really. At all." The words are innocent enough to anyone who might happen to overhear, but there's a significance behind them.
Renard relaxes slightly. He hadn't thought anyone would protest the Siegbarste's execution, but it was difficult to predict his people's reactions, especially when it involved Portland's resident Grimm. "I see. Then there's nothing else for you to report?"
"No," Adalind concedes, inclining her head minutely. "I might suggest going home to get some sleep, if I was feeling daring," she adds mildly, casually looking at the various Wesen that Renard has stationed around Nick's room. "I doubt anything - or anyone - else will happen to Detective Burkhardt."
Renard frowns at her, though he knows that he looks exhausted. "Duly noted," he replies drily, turning his attention back to Nick's unconscious form.
"I'll take my leave, then... Though I understand that it's customary for visitors to actually enter the room," Adalind can't seem to resist adding, her words perfectly sweet and respectful. There's a smirk lurking at the edges of her mouth when he turns sharply to glare at her.
"Leave," he says flatly.
"As you wish." Adalind leaves.
Renard casts a last glance at Nick, then orders one of the Wesen standing guard to tell him the instant Nick's condition changes or he wakes up.
Nick is still unconscious when Renard stops by in the morning before going to work, but he's awake when Renard returns that evening.
Hank, predictably guilty about his partner getting beaten up on his behalf, tags along. Renard isn't thrilled by this turn of events, but he can't think of any reasonable excuse not to go visit Nick together.
Nick is noticeably curt to Renard, at least to the prince's eyes. He casts a single, unreadable glance in Renard's direction when he greets him and spends the rest of the time talking to Hank. Most of the conversation is comprised of Nick assuring Hank that none of it was his fault.
Renard settles in to wait, idly listening to the partners' banter.
About an hour later, Hank suddenly looks at his watch. "Man, I'm sorry..." he begins, but Nick waves his apologies off.
"Go wherever you need to go, Hank," Nick says, mustering a grin. "I can lie in a hospital bed perfectly fine without you hovering over me."
"Yeah, right. You're a horrible patient and don't try to pretend otherwise," Hank retorts, grinning back. "Good thing the captain's here to make sure you don't hurt yourself."
He doesn't seem to notice the way Nick's smile falters as he casts a furtive glance at Renard.
"Have a good time," Nick says, returning Hank's distracted wave as the man hurries out the door.
Silence falls then, with Renard trying (and failing) to catch Nick's eye as the Grimm glares resolutely at the wall.
"Nick-" Renard starts to say, just as Nick turns to him and goes, "Look-"
They both fall silent again.
"You go first," Renard says.
"After you," Nick counters, polite with an edge of frost.
Renard takes a breath then says, "If you have any... questions, now would be the time to ask."
Nick frowns, and it hurts a little to see the distrust in his eyes. "Would you answer them honestly?"
Renard smiles faintly. "Yes."
Nick gazes at him for a long moment then gives a short nod, as if Renard has passed whatever test Nick had set for him. "You've known I was a Grimm-?"
"Since the beginning."
"Beginning meaning when I first started getting my inheritance or when I was transferred to your command?" Nick prompts.
Renard hides his wince - Nick is shrewd, and he seems to have forgotten that fact. Well, in the interest of full disclosure... "I had you transferred to my command when I found out what - who - you were," he answers slowly.
Nick's lips thin, his eyes narrowing as he processes that information. Renard stays quiet.
"Why did you want me under your command?" comes the next question.
"I thought it would be beneficial to have a Grimm on my side."
"Convenient that I wasn't at all aware of that," Nick remarks, deceptively calm. "So all these Wesen-related cases lately-?"
"I assigned them to you because you were the one best-suited for the job," Renard confirms.
"And everyone thinks I work for you."
"You dowork for me, detective," Renard says pointedly.
Judging by the look Nick gives him, this is hardly the time for semantics.
"It isimplied, yes," Renard concedes. "But it isn't as if you're bound to me."
"Is that a thing?" At Renard blank look, Nick elaborates, "Could I be 'bound' to you?"
"Yes."
Nick looks like he's going to ask more about that, but then stops himself.
"Do you know who wanted my aunt dead?"
Renard bites back the sarcastic 'anyone that crossed paths with her and lived to tell the tale?' that threatens to escape. He doubts Nick would appreciate it, for one thing.
Marie Kessler had a reputation of brutality, it's true, but at the same time it's impossible to know how much of that was fact. Regardless, allowing such a notorious Grimm to live in his territory, dying of cancer or not, would have caused a great deal of unrest in Portland, to put it mildly.
"I'm the one who commanded the Wesen who attacked your aunt," Renard confesses.
Nick stiffens, a look of utter betrayal on his face. "You- you-" His jaw shuts with an audible click and he glares down at his clenched fists.
Renard resists the urge to try and explain his reasons to Nick - and isn't that a shock in and of itself. He'd gotten close to Nick to manipulate him according to his own whims, not to end up caring what the Grimm thinks of his actions.
"Why did you do it?" Nick finally demands. "She was dying anyway!"
"Your aunt was infamous, Nick. She may have only had months left to live, but even having someone like Marie Kessler in my city was... unacceptable." Renard looks away, glancing out the window. It's mostly dark now, just the far edge of the sky lit by the falling sun. "Grimms are largely reviled by Wesen, but for her name to be so widely known - your aunt was a murderer to us, Nick. And I didn't want her to make you into a Grimm like that."
Nick makes a noise that Renard takes a moment to identify as a bitter laugh. "She told me to trust my instincts and- do you know what she told me right before she died? She told me to hunt the bad ones."
Renard doesn't know what to say to that. Nick isn't a particularly good liar - over the past few months Renard has become quite well-acquainted with all of the Grimm's tells when he gives his reports to Renard and leaves out all the Wesen-related details - so he knows Nick isn't lying. It just seems completely at odds with everything Renard has ever heard about Marie Kessler, but that's the crux of everything, isn't it? He only had rumours and hearsay to go on when it came to Kessler and her attitude towards Wesen.
"Perhaps she didn't want you to follow in her footsteps," Renard says belatedly, the only plausible explanation that comes to mind. "She didn't teach you anything about Wesen, did she?"
Nick shakes his head, still angry. "I don't- I don't know how she could keep something like that from me for all these years," he mutters, though Renard is under the impression he's voicing his thoughts aloud rather than making conversation. "Maybe I couldn't see their faces but... She just used to read me fairy tales when I couldn't sleep after my parents' accident." His lips twist in remembrance. "Aunt Marie never mentioned anything."
Renard stays silent, even when it becomes obvious that Nick has run out of things to say. He can't claim to understand Kessler's motivations, and he doubts any commentary on his part about this would be welcome.
"So, why didn't you?" Nick asks a few minutes later. He sounds calm, but there's a tension in the way he's holding himself and his eyes are stormy.
Not that Renard can blame him for his anger. "Why didn't I what?"
"Tell me about... any of this." Nick waves his hands, as if to encompass the whole situation. "About Wesen. Or the fact that you're royalty. I guess I get why you didn't tell me you had my aunt killed."
At the time, Renard had rationalized his decision to leave Nick in the dark as a chance to see how the Grimm would react - would he stay true to his principles or not? - but another part of him had rebelled at the thought of helping Nick because Renard himself had been the one to put him in the situation. It didn't make much sense, yet Renard had shied away from taking advantage of the vulnerability that he had caused in Nick.
That probably should have tipped him off to the fact that he had grown more attached to Nick than he'd intended, but as it turned out Renard was as good at lying to himself as he was to others.
"I don't regret having your aunt killed, but I felt..." Renard trails off, trying to decide how to properly articulate his reasoning. "I regretted thrusting you into a position that you were largely unprepared for, but since I was the one to place you in such a situation, it would have felt- wrong to reveal myself to you and tell you everything you needed to know."
Nick frowns at him. "Yet the reason you had me transferred to your command was so you could influence me. Why the hesitation when you actually had the chance to do so? It would have been a great opportunity."
Renard lifts his shoulders, not quite a shrug. Princes don't shrug. "I already told you."
"But that's not everything," Nick says sharply, leaning forward. Then he looks surprised by his outburst. "... Is it?" he adds, more uncertainly.
"... It's not everything," Renard concedes. "At that point you had become - still are, for that matter - more than just an opportunity to... strengthen my authority. I liked you, something that I hadn't expected when I first arranged for your transfer. I was willing to help you so long as it didn't hurt my reign."
Nick doesn't say anything, looking past Renard as he processes his words.
"As a ruler I shouldn't allow emotions to cloud my judgement, but as frequently seems to be the case with you, Nick, the rules don't seem to apply," he adds drily.
Nick scowls again. "Maybe if someone told me the rules," he mutters, almost petulant.
Renard certainly can't argue with that.
"Has it hurt your reign, then? Helping me, I mean. ... The only thing that I can think of is you killing Stark," Nick remarks. "Is there more that I don't know about? Have you killed other Wesen for my sake-"
He holds up a hand, trying to stem the tide of Nick's questions. "Helping you has proven to be more beneficial than harmful to my rule. My people were wary of you at first, but you're earning a reputation as a benevolent Grimm among the Wesen," Renard explains.
"Stark had his own fearsome reputation, so no one - or very few people - is mourning his death. In any case, since he was threatening my subordinates - Hank and yourself - it was my prerogative to punish him as I saw fit. So, no, killing a murderer who happened to be Siegbarste to save a Grimm who is proving himself to be an enforcer rather than a hunter, did not undermine my authority."
Nick nods. "And the last question? Have you killed anyone else-?"
"No. I've had to field a lot of questions from my people about siding with a Grimm, but your actions since coming into your inheritance have gone a long way to assuaging their worries."
Renard is tempted to leave things at that, but since Nick did ask and Renard did promise honesty... "I did cut off a reaper's ear because of you," he adds.
Nick twitches, his initial grimace of disgust melting into a look of confusion. "Uh, why? Is this another Wesen custom that I don't know about?"
"No. But he was related to Hulda, the reaper who attacked your aunt. He came to Portland, blatantly ignoring the protocols associated with entering a canton, with the purpose of avenging Hulda's death. I told him to leave and he decided to question my motives... So I sliced off his ear to make sure he'd pay better attention to my words should he ever foolishly decide to return," Renard recalls, remembering his instinctive anger that some reaper would dare to question his authority and then threaten someone that Renard considered to be his own.
"Oh," Nick says, faintly. "You couldn't have just sent him off with a warning?"
"I'd already warned him," Renard replies. "But he didn't listen."
"Aren't reapers a bigger organization? Is it really all right for you - prince or not - to attack one like that?"
Renard frowns. "I am the sovereign of Portland," he points out, but Nick isn't incorrect. "I imagine the Ferrat aren't pleased, though they haven't made any overtures yet. It would be difficult to make a case of it, since the reaper violated custom first."
"But on the other hand, Grimms are hardly popular," Nick states.
Renard inclines his head.
"That's why you had my aunt killed? Because she had a reputation as a- a killer, and letting her live in your territory would have caused a lot of outrage from the Wesen," Nick muses. "People would have doubted you - in terms of benefits, you gained nothing in letting her live."
"Yes."
Nick looks away, a conflicted expression on his face. "She would have known this would happen, wouldn't she?"
"I can't see how she wouldn't have," Renard agrees.
He hesitates, then adds, "If you want to transfer to another precinct - or leave Portland entirely - I won't stop you."
Nick scowls at him. "You went to all this trouble, and now you want to get rid of me?"
Renard blinks, momentarily speechless. "I- Of course not. I assumed you would no longer want to operate under my command in light of... everything you've learned."
"Well, you know what they say about assuming," Nick says slyly. More soberly, he continues, "I don't know what I want to do, yet. It's a lot to... process. You killed my aunt, but you also saved my life... I don't think Marie would have been able to teach me how to defend myself against a Siegbarste in the time she had left..."
"We'll never know," Renard says.
Nick nods. "Yeah. Just... give me some time to think it over."
He looks so earnest that Renard can't even consider refusing. He tries to quell the hopeful feeling that rises with that answer - Nick hadn't outright refused, true, but he hadn't said he had any intention of remaining near Renard either.
"Of course," is all Renard says. "I'll leave you to it, then." He rises, straightening his jacket more to do something with his hands than because he needed to.
"Good night, Captain," Nick says just before Renard leaves the room.
"... Good night, Nick."