Dean Winchester and his younger brother Sam plopped down onto the beds as soon as they entered their motel room after a hunt, only to groan when they heard the familiar flutter of wings in the room. Neither brother looked up; they both knew who it was.
"'Sup, Cas?" Dean said sarcastically. Cas tilted his head at the man, but did not respond for a moment, before saying,
"Something is.., odd. I came to warn you." Dean's head lifted up from the mattress ever so slightly, but enough for the angel to see the man's unamused face.
"Cas, we deal with this stuff all the time. We can handle it." From Dean's tone, the angel knew, even with limited knowledge, that his friend was tired. Although he had an urgent matter to discuss, he thought it better to let the Winchester get his rest, and turned to face Sam, who had begun snoring just moments before. Castiel turned back to Dean.
"Do you require rest?" The question caught Dean off guard, and his eyebrows furrowed. As he didn't respond, Castiel continued. "Although I have important information to deliver to you, if you require rest I suppose it can wait until the morning." Dean simply nodded, and in the blink of an eye, Castiel was gone.
The next morning, when Dean woke up, Cas was standing in a corner of the motel room, though Dean was so accustomed to his unplanned appearances that he didn't even flinch. He simply looked over to the angel, shooting him a small glare, before going into the bathroom to shower. Twenty minutes later, he came out cleaned and dressed, and Sam went in. Another twenty minutes passed before Sam came out, and he sat on his bed, Dean doing the same. They motioned to Cas to speak.
"Go ahead, Cas. What was so important that we needed to know." Dean said.
Cas took a deep breath, before explaining.
"For the past three years, strange things have been going on." Dean's look of what else is new greeted the statement, but Castiel continued anyway. "Activity of creatures similar to those you both hunt have been on the rise, all connected seemingly to one man. A man named Nicholas Burkhardt." Sam's eyebrows furrowed at this, had he heard the name before? It sounded familiar.
"So, what, guy's got some demons after him for three years, yet he's still alive? Obviously he knows how to deal with 'em." Dean said. Castiel shook his head.
"I don't believe you understand, Dean. These so-called creatures are not demons; though some may come close. They pass themselves off as humans. They are almost undetectable. Only some angels, and few other beings, can see them."
"And what does this have to do with anything?"
"Nicholas Burkhardt is human. He is a normal man who just happens to see creatures."
Sam and Dean shared a look of confusion, but either would admit it seemed somewhat off. A normal man seeing things only angels could see was always a red flag.
"Wait, if this has been going on for three years, why only tell us now?" Sam asked.
"Well, several days ago, Nicholas came into contact with a young woman very similar to himself. She can detect these creatures as well." Castiel explained. "I've been informed by my superiors that the two of them could potentially cause great harm if they continue to walk the path they thread."
"So, what, you want us to kill innocent people?!" Dean bellowed, a little louder than intended, especially with the overly thin motel walls.
"That is incorrect. My superiors wish to end both of their lives, though I believe that it would not be the proper course of action. I'd like your assistance to keep the angels from ending two lives that should not be required to end."
The statement reminded the brothers how much their angelic friend had changed over the course of a few years. When the angel first pulled Dean out of hell, he would have simply allowed his garrison to take those two lives, he might even have helped to do it, but now his bond with the Winchester brothers allowed him to realize how wrong the situation seemed. Dean nodded, and Sam also agreed.
"Well then, where to, Cas?" Dean asked, grabbing his duffel and making sure he had everything. Sam began hauling his own bag to the car.
Portland, Oregon."
Three days later in Portland, a friend of Nick Burkhardt's, Monroe, was outside with his fiancée Rosalee, planting some roses. They had been planting things all day, some veggies and fruits in the back where they'd started a garden, some little flowers here and there, and now some roses by the pathway. So far, it had been a good day.
Eventually, the sound of a car pulling up across the street from his home caused Monroe to look up. A vintage, 1967 Impala sat parked on the curb, and three men were standing outside the car, talking. One of the men, with long hair, pointed over at Monroe's house, and the other two looked over, just as Rosalee came outside with some water for her husband to be. Another of the men, this one in a trench coat and suit, began to walk over. His buddies followed him.
Monroe vaguely wondered if they were working for the Verrat or the Wesen Council, but brushed it off seeing as only Trench Coat had a suit on. The other two wore plaid and jeans, though the shorter one of the two had on a leather jacket. Monroe was still confused, just in the slightest. Rosalee too seemed a bit weary.
"Hello, may we help you?" Rosalee asked. Trench Coat shook his head, and his buddies stopped behind him.
"Rosalee, Monroe." Trench Coat said, surprising the husband and wife. How did the stranger know their names? Perhaps he really was working for the Verrat. And if they knew, Adalind would definitely come knocking soon enough as well.
"We are pursuing the whereabouts of Nicholas Burkhardt and Theresa Rubel." So the Verrat knew about Trubel now too. What else had they failed to cover up?
"Uh, I uh, well-" Monroe was struggling to make a complete sentence, but luckily one of Trench Coat's friends spoke up.
"Cas, don't scare the poor guy." Long hair said. "Sorry about our friend. He's not the best at talking to people. I'm Sam, by the way. This is my brother, Dean," he gestured to Leather Jacket, "and this is our friend Castiel." He gestured to Trench Coat. Monroe was still a bit hesitant.
"Okay then... But, why would you need to talk to Nick and Tr- Theresa?" Monroe asked, catching himself before saying Trubel. Sam and Dean both pulled out ID wallets from their pockets.
"Official police business, Mr. Monroe." Dean said. Rosalee raised an eyebrow.
"Why would cops need to talk to Nick? He's a detective." She said. At that moment you could almost see Sam's worry in his gaze, though he managed to cover it up before Rosalee and Monroe noticed too much. At this point, Monroe excused himself, saying he needed to go inside for something, but in reality he was upstairs calling Nick. As he dialled the all-too familiar number to his friend's cell phone, he heard Rosalee and the three men enter the home, and Rosalee offered them something to drink.
After what seemed like hours, Nick finally picked up.
"Burkhardt." Came the familiar greeting.
"Nick, it's me. Listen, there are three guys here, looking for you and Trubel. They told me and Rosalee it was for 'official police business', but personally, it sounds like an offical piece of crap." He explained. He could hear Trubel muttering something in the background, meaning Nick had put it on speaker somewhere during his explanation, meaning it was probably only Nick, Trubel, and possibly Hank wherever they were.
"Probably fake ID." He heard Hank's voice, confirming his suspicions, and Nick muttered back,
"Took the word right outta my mouth." Monroe also heard Trubel's ever-famous comment of, "Think it's Wesen?," before Nick spoke into the phone again.
"Keep them distracted until we get there."
"Nick, they're looking for you!" Monroe said, a little louder then intended, though he doubted the so-called police officers heard him. "Seriously, shouldn't you and Trubel be running for the hills or something?"
Of course, he knew Nick had ignored him when five seconds later he heard the dial tone, and he sighed, hanging up himself. 'Great,' he thought, 'gotta keep possible Verrat busy until Nick and Trubel get here.'
Downstairs, Rosalee had awkwardly invited Sam, Dean, and Castiel inside. Once they had settled into the living room, she'd asked if they wanted anything to drink, Sam saying water was fine and Dean asked for a beer and a slice of pie. Castiel, of course, had declined, stating something about not needing sustenance, and angels, before his friends reprimanded him.
About ten minutes after she brought the guys their drinks, and Dean's pie, Monroe finally came down, and asked to speak to his fiancée alone. She followed him back up the stairs.
"What happened with Nick?" She asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Oh, you know, the usual. Someone's out for his head, he and Trubel come running into it head on." Monroe replied, and Rosalee's face was that of utter horror.
"They're coming here?! We don't know if these guys are dangerous, let alone if they're even telling the truth, or-" A loud knocking on the door caught both of them off guard, and the two lovers dashed down the stairs before Sam, Dean, or Cas could answer the door. On the other side of the stain glass coat of arms, stood the two resident Grimms of Portland, Nick and Trubel. By the time the door was open, everyone was gathered around it. Castiel was the first to speak up after the awkward silence that had formed when the door opened.
"Hello, Nicholas, Theresa." He greeted them, moving aside to allow them passage into the home. Nick entered, a bit confused, and Trubel made it a point to ram her shoulder into Castiel's, but no one said anything. The seven of them simply moved into the living room again, before anyone spoke up. Unfortunately for Monroe, it happened to be Nick.
"So, you three claim to be cops? What did you wanna talk to me about?" He said, flashing his very real Portland detective's badge.
"I do not claim to be anything" Castiel said, forward as always. Dean sighed.
"He's in training. I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam." He said, gesturing to his brother. Nick raised an eyebrow, but then his expression turned to one of deep thought. Monroe groaned, causing Dean and Sam to look at him oddly. Trubel also didn't really understand why Monroe was making such a fuss, but Rosalee had already explained a few days ago, so she simply stayed put on the couch, a bored expression written on her face.
"What's with you?" Dean asked. Monroe shot him a glare, but he ignored it. The man turned to Nick.
"Please tell me this isn't another one of your 'ideas'." Monroe huffed. Nick shot his head up to look at his friend.
"What's so bad about my ideas?" Nick asked.
"Well, last time you had one, I was nearly killed by an unknowing Grimm!" While Theresa took no offense to the comment, Rosalee, Monroe, and Nick all had looks of panic on their faces.
"What the hell is a Grimm?" Dean asked. Nick's face clearly portrayed to Monroe, 'This is your mess'.
"Oh, uh, I meant, uh-" Monroe was cut off by Castiel.
"A Grimm refers to the descendants of the Brothers Grimm, Wilhelm and Jacob, who wrote fairy tales such as Little Red Ridding Hood and Hansel and Gretel. I hardly see why this is relevant, though. No one in this room is currently descendant of either brother." The two Wesen and the long-time Grimm all breathed sighs of relief, but Dean was still adamant. Sam was beginning to get curious too.
"Well, obviously it means something to these three, if they're so relieved we don't know. Which I'd still like to, by the way." Dean said, firstly refering to Cas, then changing his subject to the Wesen-worlders. Sadly for them, though, Trubel happened to speak before they did.
"A Grimm is someone who can see things out of the ordinary. I'm one, so's Nick." If anyone could have won the award for most annoyed, Nick and Monroe would have tied. Rosalee simply shook her head.
Trubel was still new to the world of Wesen and Grimms, and having been deemed as crazy for nearly a decade still had no effect on wether or not she mentioned anything about being a Grimm.
"Well, what do you see?" Sam asked. "We might be able to help."
"I thought you were cops." Trubel said. It was more a statement than a question.
"Depends on your definition of cops, Theresa." Dean picked up.
"Trubel. Call me Trubel." She said. Before anyone could ask anymore questions, Nick piped up.
"Sam and Dean. Would your last names happen to be Winchester?" Sam and Dean shared a look. It took all their will power not to run, sure he may have been facing the Supernatural for three years, they'd been facing it all their lives. They probably could beat him if they needed.
"Why would you think that?" Sam asked. Nick shook his head.
"My mom, she used to know this one guy, John Winchester. He had two sons, I used to hang out with 'em, 'til my dad died." At this point, the wheels in Sam's mind clicked. 'That's why it was so familiar!' He thought.
"What was your mom's name?" He asked, at the same time Dean said,
"Where are you from?" Nick answered both of their questions at once.
"My mom was Kelly Burkhardt, in Rhinebeck, New York." The statement confirmed Sam's theory, and Dean seemed to remember too.
"Your mom called you Nicky, right?" Dean said, smirking. Nick rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, she did, Winchester. Anyway, you guys still hunting?" Although Nick had no knowledge of the supernatural, despite John's encouragement to Kelly to tell him, he knew they hunted something.
"Yeah. And you're a cop now, nice. But, what's with the 'Grimm' thing?" Sam asked.
About two hours later, Nick, Rosalee, Trubel, Monroe, the Winchester, and Cas were in the back of the Spice Shop, where they had gone sometime during the explanation of Wesen. At first, the Winchesters seemed a bit skeptic, and now, in the back of the spice shop, Monroe and Rosalee were about to Wogue for them.
"Just, before we do this, you'll have to remember, it's still us." Rosalee explained.
"Yeah. Whatever you do, just don't shoot us." Monroe said. As they had explained different Wesen, the Winchesters had piped up, asking if they were similar to the demons or not. Most of the Wesen, they had never heard of, however. For example, Fuchsbau.
After a few moments, Rosalee Wogued, followed closely by Monroe. As Dean reached for his knife, both Wesen backed away, and both went back to normal.
To say the Winchesters were shocked was an understatement, considering Trubel still flinched. Dean was still fighting the urge to stab Monroe, while Sam was busy calculating how many of these creature things, Wesen, they had come across during their hunts and not known.
Castiel, of course, was busy staring at Nicholas and Theresa. He had noticed how their pupils turned black when Monroe and Rosalee had changed into their Wesen forms. He was quite confused by it. They had used the term "Grimm" to describe Nicholas and Theresa, but it was new to him. Even though he was an angel, Castiel was far from knowing ever little thing in the world God had so masterfully created. Far from it. He hardly knew a thing about humans.
Castiel was just surprised that neither Dean or Sam had killed anyone yet, though he was somewhat grateful for the fact as well. If they didn't kill anyone, they had less problems to deal with.
Faced with all his wonderings, Castiel decided to voice one of them.
"Why do their eyes turn black when you change?" He asked Monroe and Rosalee, and the Wesen couple knew he meant the two Grimms in the room. Sam and Dean, however, went into hunter mode. All four Wesen-worlders had noticed the change, and Nick held his hands up defensively while Monroe rushed to explain.
"Guys, this is normal, this is what happens when-" Dean cut him off.
"Only demons' eyes turn black. Something's going on here. Who the hell are you working for? Is it Crowley?" Dean bellowed, and before anyone could react, Trubel's own retaliatory grunt was heard, followed closely by a smack of fist meeting nose, and then the elder Winchester was on the ground, clutching his possibly broken nose. Sam was debating wether or not to clock the 21 year old Grimm back when Castiel once again ran his mouth.
"I apologize for any confusions I've caused, Theresa,"
"Trubel!"
"-and Nicholas are not demons. I've already told you this. They are human." Dean shot Castiel a glare, as if saying, 'shoulda told us five minutes ago'.
"If they really are human, what about Mr. BloodBad and Mrs. Fuck's Bow over here. No way they're human, but why haven't they killed us yet." If Dean had been able to get a good night's sleep the day before, instead of running on coffee, he may not have been yelling so loud. Needless to say, to Nick's ears, it was as loud as if he was yelling into a microphone. Unfortunately for him, Monroe took the comment in retaliation.
"First of all, Wise Guy, it's Blutbad, as in German for Blood Bath, and my fiancée is a Fuchsbau, not a 'Fuck's Bow'. Second of all, I-" Nick cut Monroe off, uncomfortable in the increasing volume.
"Monroe, could you please lower the volume a bit. You're getting overly loud." Monroe quickly apologized to his friend for his yelling, remembering the whole 'tear-eating-Wesen' incident. He of course, had assumed Nick's hearing would have gone to normal by now, especially with their run in with the Cracher-Mortel a while ago, before they had met Trubel, but apparently his friend still had his touch.
"Anyway, not all Wesen are bad. Didn't you know that? Also, demons? Crowley, what?" Monroe's statement reflected the room's confusion, and Dean and Sam realized it would be their turn to explain. They turned to Cas for help, only to have Dean groan when he had completely disappeared, not really getting noticed during the screaming match Monroe and Dean had just had.
Sam simply sighed realizing the angel had left, and pulled himself a chair, gesturing for the Wesen-worlders to sit. They all took their seats again.
"So you've been involved in this since you were kids?" Rosalee asked, shocked. Her initial reaction was to wonder what kind of father would endanger his children in this way, but she also remembered that not overly long ago, when Grimms were bountiful and plenty, the same thing was involved in raising a Wesen family.
"Yeah. That Yellow-Eyed demon, Azazel, killed our mom when Sammy here was only six months old. Our dad swore revenge, he almost got it. But I got to survive instead." Dean said. Rosalee turned back to Sam; Dean had explained the demon-semi incident, though not in detail, more like just mentioned it when they compared the different types of reapers.
"And you, Sam. You were in Stanford, why leave? You'd gotten out, you could've had a normal life." She asked gently.
"Yellow-Eyes killed Jessica, my girlfriend. I had nothing left to keep me there. So I went with Dean." Sam said, almost too quickly for Rosalee's liking, but she simply nodded anyway. She wouldn't push him further; she barely knew him, if this was all he'd tell her, she'd just have to accept that fact.
Meanwhile, Dean had moved over to talk to Nick and Trubel.
"So, Nicky, let me get this straight; you just started seeing these things outta the blue, and you listened to your aunt about 'em?" Dean was still grasping at the fact not all Wesen were bad. If that was true, did that mean they'd taken lives of vampires and werewolves and such that didn't deserve to be taken? Before now, he'd always made it a point not to let this job get to him, though sometimes he failed. At the moment, though, this was his lowest low.
"I've met a lot more Wesen that have tried to kill me than I have made friends with Wesen, but in a nutshell, I was told to only kill the bad ones. Trubel's learning that now." Nick said. For the past hour or two, Dean had been calling him by the nickname his mother gave him as a child, but in all honesty, he couldn't care less. He was with a couple of his old friends, two of the few he still knew from childhood, he was content, even if they were discussing things he normally didn't tell anyone other than Hank and Juliet.
"And, what about you, Trubel? Any experience with good guys, before all this?" Dean asked. Trubel shook her head.
"Not really. To be fair, I was in crappy foster homes; I was kinda deemed as insane after a certain point." She said. Dean nodded slowly. Over the years, he'd met a lot of people; someone from a crappy foster home was a type he'd dealt with before, but Trubel was definitely different. Sam came over, and asked Nick about the breed of reapers he'd faced.
"Well, to be fair, they put Grimm Reaper lore into perspective. They even carry those scythes. But I've been able to deal with them." Nick explained. "Someone sent two after me once, I killed one, decapitated the other, with Monroe's help, and sent the heads back to Germany in a box."
The Winchester brothers shared a look, and Dean smirked.
"That's pretty badass, Nicky."
The Winchester brothers stayed in Portland with Nick and Trubel for almost two weeks afterwards. They would have left after a day's rest, but Nick recieved a case involving some Wesen and decided the brothers could use a taste of his world for once, like their father used to do.
Dean and Sam had met Juliette and Hank as well, and Monroe and Rosalee had invited them to the wedding, though the Winchesters told them they wouldn't be able to make it. They had been told they were welcome in Portland whenever they liked by Nick, and of course by his captain, Sean Renard, as they had proved a great help, even if they weren't really officers. Renard hadn't seemed to mind; they understood the Wesen world to some extent, they were good.
The Winchesters had also had to explain to Juliette and Hank about the Supernatural, and the two took it rather well, considering what they already knew. They'd even trained a bit with Nicky and Trubel, and exchanged some knowledge. Wolfsbane keeps Blutbaden from detecting you, salt and holy water were good for demons, etc.
So now, as the Impala drove away from Portland, Oregon, on the highway, Sam and Dean made a silent vow to stop by whenever they could. Nick's words also echoed in Dean's head from right before they had left.
"Only kill the bad ones."
