Hey, folks! I know it's been a while since I've written anything for this site (a year and a half, I think), but this story wouldn't leave me alone. I know this AN is long, but please read the information below, because it is important, especially the rating.

Extended Summary: Wilhelm took a different approach in dealing with the Everafter uprising in America. Instead of building a barrier, he and the surrounding townspeople established an organization tasked with controlling and terminating any supernatural or Everafter threat. Generations later, Sabrina left the family business behind after one too many lies. Soon she's sucked back in when her sister shows up claiming their grandmother has gone missing. With the aid of a fairy with suspicious motives, their search leads them into a mess of secrets, conspiracies, and an organization bent on taking over the world. But the deeper into this underground world Sabrina goes, the less sure she is on who she can trust. Especially when the monsters start fighting back.

Rated T: For violence, death, some dark themes, slight language, and maybe some sexual tension. No violence, injuries, or deaths will be written in graphic detail. Just know that this isn't going to be a completely happy and humorous story. People do die and do bad things.

Warning: I don't like saying if there's going to be character death or not, especially since it could change halfway through the story. If you want to know- which is perfectly fine- say so in a review and I'll either send you a PM or will leave you a note at the end of the next chapter.

Timeline: This story is an AU. However, some of the events that occur in this story will mirror events that happened in all of the books. So, to make sure you don't run into any spoilers, you might want to have read all of the books before reading this.

There is going to be Puckabrina, though it will be very slow, for reasons that will become obvious in later chapters. THERE WILL BE NO LOVE TRIANGLES IN THIS STORY. AND NO JEALOUSY ARCS. So this isn't what you want if you're looking for that kind of story. Love triangles are not my cup of tea.

Ages: Sabrina: 20. Daphne: 16. Puck: looks 20ish (there is a reason for Puck being older. You'll find out later in the story.)

Translations: It's safe to assume that any languages used in this story (other than English, Spanish, or Italian) have been translated using Google. Since that's not always a reliable source, some of the translation may be wrong. If you notice something's wrong, and maybe know the right way of saying it, please feel free to let me know and I'll fix it!

Disclaimer: The Sisters Grimm belongs to Michael Buckley, not me. I'm just playing with the characters. The cover image for this story does not belong to me, as well. That came from Google Images.

This story is the result of me being sick with the flu back in January and all they were playing on TV were the Jason Bourne movies. Though it was inspired by watching those movies, this isn't anything like the Bourne movies. It's more like a darker Men in Black AU thing. The first MIB movie, not any of the others.

Any and all comments are welcome. Feel free to critique, say what you like or don't like, or ask any questions. I hope you enjoy!


"Oh, monsters are scared," said Lettie. "That's why they're monsters."

― Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane


She remembered the rain. Long afterwards it was the one thing she could recall with enough clarity to make her stomach curl. Not the feel of her sister pressed up against her side on the too big bed, not the sensation of her heart slamming against her ribcage, not the way the apartment felt empty, but the rain; thudding persistently against the windows, marking icy paths down her skin, covering everything in a bleak gray.

At first she hardly paid any attention to the cool raindrops beating against her skin as she ran home from the bus stop. Excitement bubbled up inside of her as her sneakers smacked against the sidewalk, her lips spreading into a wide grin. Her report card was safely tucked in her backpack and awaiting approval and praise. She was hoping the A's in math and English and the B in science would be enough to distract her parent's from the C- in gym. Though it wasn't like she would ever use what she learned in that class anyway, so it didn't really matter.

The apartment was empty when she got home, but it was an emptiness that buzzed with the anticipation of being filled. She immediately placed her report card on the middle of the fridge, the place of honor, and threw herself onto the couch, listening to the rain tap against the windows as she waited for her family to come home.

And waited . . .

And waited . . .

The phone rang, cutting across the silence sharp enough to make her jump and send her heart into her throat. Relief replaced the panic as she reached for the phone, already prepared to ask her parents where they were. As quickly as it had blossomed, the relief shriveled inside of her when she heard the voice on the other end of the phone.

It was Daphne's kindergarten teacher. Asking why their parents hadn't picked her up yet.

The teacher arrived with Daphne thirty minutes later, armed with a concerned face, worried eyes, and a carefully soft voice. But Sabrina forced a smile past the pit in her stomach and put a confidence she didn't feel into her voice. "We'll be fine. They'll be home soon."

But they never came.

Sabrina and Daphne turned on all the lights in the apartment, shoving every shadow into the far corners of the rooms, despite knowing that their mom and dad preferred to use the lights only when needed. Sabrina had never considered herself to be afraid of the dark, but there was something off about her home, a creeping sensation that would travel up her spine whenever she turned the lights off.

It was well into the night by the time the two sisters went to bed, curling up next to each other on their parents' bed. It took ten minutes for Daphne to begin snoring, but Sabrina's mind wouldn't let her fall asleep so easily. Worry and panic sent her thoughts careening around inside her head, her muscles to tense, and her stomach to knot. It took much longer for her eyes to finally drift close and to fall into a sleep light enough for the sound of a floorboard creaking to snap her awake. She sat up quick enough to make her dizzy, but through her blurry vision she could just make out the figure of someone standing in the doorway. Her heart leaped to her throat, a mixture of excitement and joy bursting inside of her. "Daddy!" The shout flew from her lips before she fully registered the man's appearance.

He didn't move. Didn't surge forward with a laugh and outstretched arms. He just stood there, features obscured by the dark ski mask pulled over his face.

Ice coursed through her veins and the joy tied itself into a knot in her stomach. This man wasn't her father. She felt her thoughts slow down and her heart rate pick up as panic squeezed the air from her lungs. What was she supposed to do? Through the panicked haze, her mother's voice, calm, firm, and insistent echoed in her head.

"If anyone you don't know gets in here, Sabrina, call 911."

She lunged to the side where the phone rested by the bedside table. Her fingers wrapped around the cool plastic, her heart pounding in her chest and blood roaring in her ears. She had just lifted the phone off the receiver when a sharp click froze her in place.

Sabrina slowly turned her head back to the man and saw one arm extended towards her, a bulky object clutched tightly in his hand. A gun.

"I'm sorry." He whispered the words in a rough, foreign voice that barely registered in her mind. Everything felt slow and distant, covered in a thin haze. She briefly wondered if she should cry, or beg, or scream. But she couldn't find the time or the desire inside of her, so she just stared at him.

A loud bang jolted her out of her trance and jerked Daphne awake. The window by her head shattered as the bullet tore through it, cold air and rain rushing in through the broken glass.

Daphne let out a scream that sent fear stabbing into Sabrina's heart. The older girl quickly flung her arms around her sister, twisting her body to where she was shielding Daphne with her own. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, body tensing, and waited with shaking breath for the second gun shot. . .but it never came. Slowly, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at the man, but the doorway was empty.

The man was gone.

She didn't know how much time had passed before she was able to let go of Daphne and turn back to the phone. Her movements were slow and mechanical as she dialed the number, her voice sounding odd in her ears as she told the 911 operator what just happened. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. It took just a few minutes before the sound of sirens reached her ears. They didn't move from the bed, even as they heard people entering the apartment.

A portly officer with a round face and kind eyes slowly walked into the room, giving both her and Daphne a small smile. "Hello, kids. If you could just come with me, please." A nervous twitch of his mouth. "You'll get to ride in the police car?"

His gaze landed on Sabrina and his nervous smile morphed into a frown. He took a step forward and stretched out a hand, his fingers brushing her cheek. When he pulled his hand away his fingertips glinted with blood. He met her eyes again, but this time no phony smile covered his face. "And we'll get someone to take a look at that cut."

Sabrina lifted her hand and lightly brushed her cheek, staring down at the red that coated her fingers. A fuzzy, far away thought told her that it must have happened when the window shattered. She hadn't felt a thing.

They followed the policeman out of the apartment, through the hallway crowded with neighbors trying to see what happened, down the stairs, and out the building. Daphne didn't let go of her hand once, squeezing it so tight that it went numb.

By the time they reached the police car they were all drenched in rain. Her clothes, thick and heavy, clung to her skin and her hair was plastered to her face. They were both shivering once they got into the safety of the car's backseat.

It wasn't until the policeman started driving down the road that Daphne spoke. She leaned forward in her seat, not once letting go of her grip on Sabrina, and asked, her voice wavering, if the man was taking them to their parents.

The policeman looked at them in the mirror and quickly glanced away, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. And that's when Sabrina knew that her parents weren't coming back.

She leaned back in her seat as water rolled down her cheeks, leaving the taste of salt on her lips.

. . .

Sabrina Grimm has been held at gunpoint. She's faced down machinegun wielding elves, witches armed with firecrackers, and three rather disgruntled bears. She's been stabbed, shot, and punched on more occasions than she can recall, and she's been sent on missions where the fate of the world hung in the balance.

And yet none of her near-death experiences have twisted her stomach into knots quite like the thought of her physics exam next week.

She leans against the counter and frowns down at the textbook she's hidden underneath, lips moving as she quickly skims over the material. The noise of the semi-crowded Celestial Deer- the mumble of the crowd, voices just loud enough to reach her ears but low enough that she can't make out the words, the clinks of plates and coffee cups- all mingle to encourage the headache pounding in her temples.

She feels frustration bubble up inside of her as she rereads the same sentence for the fifth time, trying to block out the far too loud laughter coming from the skinny little punk- Mr. Excuse me, I wanted two shots of espresso, not one- at one of the far right tables. She scowls down at the textbook, barely holding back a growl. Since when did all of this stuff turn into gibberish? She could have sworn she understood it in class the other day.

"He's a spy."

The words shatter her concentration in a way that stops her breath. She feels her entire body tense up, shock and alarm freezing her muscles. Her hand stops in the middle of turning a page and she glances up, eyes flickering briefly to her boyfriend Bradley before turning her gaze to scan the slightly crowded cafe area.

"A spy? Who?" Her voice comes out casual and light, a contrast to the way her heart pounds in her chest. Not here. Not now. Granny promised they would leave her alone.

Bradley nods his head in the direction of a man seated at one of the corner tables, trying to make the movement inconspicuous but failing miserably. "Him."

Sabrina frowns at the man, narrowed eyes taking in every aspect of his appearance. The trench-coat that could hide just about anything. The way his back is to the door but his table faces one of the mirrors on the wall so he can see everyone who enters the coffee shop. The messy hair and the way he holds the cup of coffee between his hands as if trying to suck up the last bit of warmth. The slight way he hunches over the table, shoulders stooped. "Really? What makes you think that?"

"Just look at that costume. And he hasn't moved since I got here. He practically screams spy." Bradley nods his head in solemn appreciation. "I admire his ability to get into character."

Sabrina looks at Bradley, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, because the man doesn't scream spy. He just screams man-who's-hit-rock-bottom. Or man who made the questionable choice of dressing up as a hobo for Halloween. Her muscles slowly begin to relax, her fingers uncurling from the fists she doesn't remember making, and she berates herself for panicking. The likelihood of a spy taking the time to infiltrate a college-student infested coffee shop like the Celestial Deer is low, as is the likelihood that Bradley, who wouldn't notice a gun if it was being pointed at his face, would be able to pick a spy out of a crowd.

Her grin widens as she stares at Bradley. He leans against the other side of the counter, squinted eyes trained on the customer and lips bunched to the side in concentration. It never fails to amaze her how seriously he takes the game of guessing people's Halloween costumes. "I thought the whole point of being a spy was to be unnoticeable?" She says.

He looks over at her and smiles, teeth flashing against his brown skin. "He's trying to be obvious so we won't suspect anything."

"Huh, well that backfired."

"He wasn't expecting to come across the keen observational skills of one Bradley James." He pushes himself off the counter and turns to face her, brown eyes crinkling at the edges as his smile widens.

A snort erupts from her lips and she rolls her eyes. "The oldest mistake in the world," she mutters, glancing back down at her textbook.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me, are you still studying?"

Sabrina glances over her shoulder at the exasperated voice and sees her friend Annabelle coming out of the kitchen, arms loaded down with a large box of pastries. The other blonde eyes Sabrina's textbook with a mixture of disgust and incredulity. "You've been going at it none stop for like a week. Don't you think it's time to take a break?"

"Not if I want to pass my classes," Sabrina says, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you have exams to study for?"

Annabelle lips split into a wide grin, green eyes twinkling. "Not right now!" She drops the box of pastries unceremoniously onto the floor in front of the display and crouches down in front of it. "I think most of my teachers pity us, to be honest. One of 'em keeps warning us about the amount of work we'll have to do once we graduate and start teaching."

A small grin twitches at the corner of Sabrina's lips. "I can't blame him. Teaching sounds horrible."

The other girl leans back on her heels once she rips the box open, her lips pursed to the side, and gives Sabrina a mock contemplative look. "You know, I think you'd be a good teacher."

Sabrina rolls her eyes in response, a short laugh bursting from her mouth. "I'm not so good with little humans," she says before turning her attention back to the list of equations that might as well have been written in Chinese.

Annabelle laughs, one of those big, no-holding-back laughs that never fails to bring a smile to Sabrina's face and a glare from their manager. Annabelle turns her grin to Bradley. "What about you? You want to teach?"

Bradley shakes his head quickly, holding up his hands. "No, no, no, I think I'd better stick with numbers instead of people."

Annabelle shakes her head playfully, a smile curling the edges of her lips. "Aw, look at the two of you, my little asocial babies."

"You know one day you're going to come home from a long day at work, covered in toddler spit and glitter, and you're going to remember this conversation. And when that day comes, you're going to think "hey, those asocial babies were really on to something'," Bradley says, earning a loud burst of laughter from the other girl.

Sabrina continues to feel her muscles relax, the stress of her impending test dying away as she listens to the two chat. A banter and conversation that feels so normal. There's no secret code hidden in their words, no subtle eye gestures, no hidden meanings or weapons or missions or spies. Just normal.

Sabrina feels her smile dim as the two enter the beaten to death conversation of Bradley telling Annabelle that this is what she gets for embarking on the task of trying to socialize the introverts. They both grew up with a normal life. No killing, no running, no fighting or mistrust. They always had normalcy, wrapped tightly around them like armor, and even after two years away from the family business, she has the sinking feeling that she's just borrowing it.

"Fine." Annabelle throws up her hands in defeat. "But don't think this is going to get you out of going to that Halloween shindig tonight."

Bradley shrugs, gaze flickering to Sabrina and then back to Annabelle. "I don't really know . . ." He lifts his hand to rub the back of his neck as he shifts his weight on his feet. "I mean, I know Sabrina doesn't really like Halloween-"

Sabrina looks over at him, a frown on her face. "I don't, but you do and you've been looking forward to it for months."

It's usually not a holiday Sabrina looks forward to, what with all the odd excitement for dressing up as creatures that will kill you quickly and without the slightest bit of hesitation. But it was one of Bradley's favorite holidays.

A bit of heat colors Bradley's cheeks. "I . . .I wouldn't say months."

Sabrina raises an eyebrow at him. "Bradley, you bought your costume at the beginning of August."

"I was afraid they'd run out by the time October came around?" He frowns at Sabrina's snort. "Hey, Miles Morales is a very popular character."

"Oh, right, of course. How silly of me not have known," Sabrina says, rolling her eyes playfully. She nods her head at Annabelle. "Did you ever decide who you were going as?"

"Well, I was thinking about going as Sleeping Beauty, but I think I'm going to go as the princess from the Princess and the Frog. It's such a romantic story."

Sabrina scoffs, the sound coming out more bitter than she meant. "In the original tale, she threw the frog against the wall instead of kissing him. I wouldn't call that romantic."

Annabelle scowls at her. "Okay, buzzkill. Who are you going as?"

Sabrina shrugs, a halfhearted movement, and waves a hand vaguely in the air. "That one assassin from that movie with the superheroes."

Annabelle's eyebrows rise. "Really?" She cocks her head to the side as she studies Sabrina with narrowed eyes before shaking her head, a smile curling her lips. "I can't see you being an assassin. You're just too . . .good to kill people."

Sabrina barely manages to stop herself from wincing, her stomach twisting painfully. For a brief second, she can't remember how to breathe, her mouth hanging open slightly as the comment runs in circles around her mind. She manages to compose herself and force her lips into a smile that goes against the needles stabbing at her. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. There are a lot of people I would like to kill." Despite her attempts, her voice comes out sounding tight and strained. She quickly glares down at her textbook, gripping the edges tight enough to turn her knuckles white, and hopes that no one noticed . . .

Bradley's hand brushes against hers as Annabelle starts a monologue about potential hairstyles, the contact jerking her attention to him. He's staring at her with that concerned face that always sends guilt curling inside of her. "Are you okay?" He whispers, low enough that Annabelle can't hear him.

"I'm fine." Sabrina forces her lips into a smile as her go-to answer flies from her lips.

Bradley frowns, hurt mingling with the worry in his eyes, and Sabrina finds herself wishing that he wasn't so good at being able to tell when she's lying. But, like always, he doesn't push for an honest answer.

She opens her mouth to say something to make him smile, though she hasn't figured out what yet, when a shout of surprise interrupts her. Sabrina looks out at the cafe area to see that Bradley's would-be spy has knocked over his cup of coffee, spilling the dark liquid all over the surface of the table. She tries to ignore the relief pouring over her as she sends Bradley an apologetic look before grabbing a towel and navigating her way through the maze of tables and chairs that make up the cafe.

Her mind busies itself with wondering what they would think of her if they really knew about who she was. If they somehow heard about all the gruesome details of her past, of all the things she's done. . . . She feels her lips twist into a mirthless smirk as she steps around a pair of chatty elders. She highly doubts they'd still want to take her to the party.

Sabrina reaches the table just as the coffee begins to drip onto the floor, taking a deep, steadying breath, and tucking her hair behind her ear. But they will never find out about her past. She'll make sure of that.

She lifts her head to turn a smile to the man, some kind of generic, placating response coming to her lips, but then his hand wraps around her wrist and he leans close to her ear. He whispers in a low, husky voice, the bitter scent of coffee clinging to his words. "Seien sie vorsichtig, wern sie vertrauen. Die Scharlachrote Hand steigt."

For a second time that day, icy shock runs through her veins, body and mind screeching to an abrupt halt. By the time she manages to pull herself together, the man is already out in the street, the bell hung over the door chiming in goodbye.

Without thinking, Sabrina takes a few steps towards the door and barely stops herself, though every nerve in her body is begging to chase him down the street and knock some answers out of him. First part of training is to always act natural when surrounded by witnesses unless absolutely necessary and leaving her job to beat up some random guy on the street doesn't count as natural. Her heart pounds in her chest, her fingers curl into fists so tight her nails dig into her palms, and she suddenly feels breathless. Shoulders heaving with the effort to fill her suddenly too small lungs with air.

The man's words run in circles around her head. It's been a while since she's heard German- the language Granny Relda made them all communicate in when she thought it wasn't safe to speak English- and it takes her a few moments to figure out what he said. When she does, it sounds just enough like gibberish that she can almost brush it off as the ravings of a lunatic.

But it also sounds just enough like a warning to send tingles down her spine.

Bradley is beside her before she realizes it, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek that she hardly feels, before heading to the door. He waves a hand as he leaves, calling over his shoulder, "I'll see you tonight!"

Sabrina barely has enough sense to wave back, a half-hearted movement. "Yeah, see you later," she whispers, the man's words screaming in her head.

"Be careful who you trust. The Scarlet Hand is coming."

. . .

She tries to call Daphne, then Granny Relda, three times before finally leaving tense messages for both because dangit she's supposed to be out. She's supposed to be living the normal life she's always wanted, hanging out with friends and studying, and not getting cryptic warnings from strangers. After calling Daphne again and throwing her phone against the wall with a scream of frustration when she gets sent to voice mail, Sabrina forces herself to take a deep breath and get dressed. She tries to shove the nagging worry to the back of her mind, telling herself she's done all she needs to do. All she can do in this situation. Besides, no agent knows of her location, so it's probably just some weirdo's idea of a Halloween prank.

The party goes by in a blur of laughing faces, sugar highs, too many drunken people, and some poorly executed dancing on Sabrina's part. Though, Bradley not being much of a dancer either, they ended up holding a contest to see who could step on the other's feet more times, or ended up laughing so hard they could hardly breathe, much less dance. The music was loud enough that it felt like each drop in the bass echoed through her, loud enough that she and Bradley couldn't really have a conversation, which was perfectly fine. It was even almost enough to distract her from the panic inducing thoughts of the man's warning and her physics test.

Really, Sabrina thinks she can group this event in with the few Halloweens that were actually fun.

It's close to three in the morning by the time Sabrina makes it to her apartment, leaving Bradley with a long goodnight kiss and a promise to go out for some brunch in the morning. Her fingers wrap around the cool metal of the door handle, but she doesn't move until he disappears around the corner. Then, with a sigh, she opens the door and slips inside. Neither of her roommates are home, already long gone doing whatever they do on Halloween. Both of them are the epitome of social butterflies, and it's a rare occurrence for Sabrina to see them for more than an hour. Besides the random piles of clothes, dirty dishes stacked precariously in the sink, and the occasionally oddly placed shoe, it feels like she has her own place. Which is nice.

Sometimes.

She throws her keys and wig onto the counter as a yawn stretches her mouth wide. The keys slide off the smooth surface and land on the floor with a clink. She's too tired to bother turning around and picking them up.

She's dragging her feet towards her bedroom, briefly debating if it would be acceptable if she just passes out on the couch instead- she doubts her roommates will come back before late tomorrow, so it's not like they'd mind- when she notices it.

The curtain in front of their window shifts softly in the night breeze, the light from the lamp she can swear she turned off before she left sliding across the fabric and glinting off the sprinkle of glass that litters the floor. The hairs on the back of her neck rise, every muscle in her body tenses, and her foot freezes mere inches from the faux hardwood floor. It's a creeping sensation, a cold tingle that races up her spine, the realization that someone has broken her window and slipped into her home.

Her eyes scan the apartment, searching the shadowy room for anything that may be missing or out of place. She strains her ears to hear any indication that the intruder is still here as she starts to step forward. Her movements are slow and steady, filling her lungs with practiced, quiet breaths, as she turns around and sees it. A small light shining through the crack underneath her bedroom door.

Sabrina's lips twist into an angry scowl, her fingers curling into tight fists. Breaking into her apartment was one thing, but breaking into her room? She moves towards the door, her footsteps light and breezing over the few creaky floorboards, and keeps her eyes trained on the light as it moves back and forth.

Her mind churns out possible courses of action. She can wait until the intruder leaves her room and then ambush them. But they may already know she's here. She wasn't exactly quiet when she entered her home, probably because she wasn't thinking some freak had broken into her apartment.

People breaking into her home and strange men whispering warnings into her ear remind her too much of the life she's been trying to ignore for two whole years. Two years of painstakingly recreating a life for herself. She seethes, and it's that anger, sharp and quick, that makes her decision. She waits until the shadow moves to the center of the door and then kicks out with her dominant foot, hitting the door just underneath the handle. It slams open and smacks into someone hard enough for them to let out a satisfying cry of pain and shock. There's a loud crash followed by a thump that shakes the floor.

Sabrina winces at the thought of whatever in her room that's now broken and charges in, slipping nimbly around the broken door. Something hard slams into her, knocking her back against the door frame with enough force to send pain rippling up her spine. She gasps in surprise and barely manages to duck, avoiding the fist aiming straight for her throat.

With a growl, she sinks her fist into the intruder's belly. As the person hunches over with a pained 'uff', Sabrina pushes her body upwards, all too aware of the wall behind her restricting her movement, and sends her elbow into their face. There's a grunt of pain as the person stumbles back, giving Sabrina enough time to slip back into the living room. She squints at the person's face as they follow her, but, since the intruder's flashlight was knocked to the other side of the room, it's too dark for her to make out any distinguishing features. Not that she really cares right now. It doesn't matter who this person is, she's going to kick their butt.

Sabrina dodges a punch aimed for her stomach, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips and adrenaline singing through her veins. It's been far too long since she's practiced the moves, but the feeling is still the same. The blood roaring in her ears, the heat spreading across her body, the way her mind moves like lightening; it all feels too familiar, as if she's been doing this every single day since she quit. A part of her knows tomorrow the adrenaline will be replaced with all the aches, pains, throbs, and stinging cuts, but now, in this moment, the him or me mentality makes her feel alive.

It doesn't take her long to notice that her opponent isn't the best at hand-to-hand fighting. They're sloppy, relying on sheer force and speed instead of using their surroundings. She feels her lips twist as a plan begins to take shape in her mind. She grabs one of their arms, but they twist out of her grasp and catch her in the stomach with an elbow, forcing the air out of her lungs.

She stumbles back and tries to fill her lungs with air, wheezing slightly. The other comes at her quick, just a dark shape, spastically throwing punches and jabs at her stomach, quick enough to be disorienting but not well aimed. Sabrina's lips thin out into a line as she stays light on her feet, twisting and turning around her opponent, throwing in a few of her own hits and taking some, subtly guiding the intruder into one of the room's corners.

The person pulls their arm back for a punch and their elbow smacks loudly into one of the walls. They have just enough time to mutter a frustrated 'fudge' before Sabrina slams her forearm into their collarbone, pinning them against the wall.

Her arm is already pulled back into a fist, anger still screeching inside of her, when her brain registers the light form the lamp spilling across the other person's face, highlighting the brown hair, small nose, and brown eyes wide with shock.

"Daphne?" She gasps.

The younger Grimm stares back at her, confusion and shock melting into a sheepish grin as she raises a hand and wiggles her fingers in a small wave. "Hey, sis!"