Disclaimer: Grimm is the property of NBC, Hazy Mills Production, CK Production and a lot of others. Nothing mine, only the idea.
A/N: Former entry for the word-assozination-challenge at grimm_challenge.
He was a fucking alien! That was what he was! It was as clear as water.
Nick stared at his image in the mirror. The face hard, the eyes tired, lines underneath them. His cheekbones harsh in the white light from above.
An alien …
He'd so tried to fix his life, fix his relationship with Juliette, fix everything. But finally … Finally the hell broke lose and he couldn't ignore it anymore: he wasn't the good guy any longer. The harder he tried, the harder this fight was going on. He couldn't ignore his instincts, this damned instincts.
Nick touched his face, still looking in the mirror, hoping of something he couldn't name. Something that would change him back to the good guy he was before aunt Marie hit Portland and this inheritage began.
Maybe … maybe there was a little chance, somewhere, somehow.
There was nothing left to hold him behind. Nothing would change it anymore. Juliette was lost, Monroe was with Rosalee, and him?
Nick closed his eyes, opened them again and stared into the mirror.
Was this really him? Wasn't there something weird now? Something that wasn't him? Something that might have changed?
On the inside truly, he told himself silently. Last year he was happy, he was curious, he was willing to be the different in all the numerous Grimms that were his anchestors. Last year he still had a conscience …
What was left now?
Nick knew he was going to lose this inner struggle. All the things he needed were gone now, Juliette, Monroe … maybe Hank.
Alien! Monster! Monster-Alien!
A bitter grin lifted the sides of his mouth. Not longer that bright smile, not longer the amusement. This was what was left behind after everything was gone.
Alien!
Nick looked down to the axe. Blood was still dripping from the edges.
Not his first head but the bloodiest one.
Alien! Monster!
All he wanted was a life he could live, live with someone he could love. All he got was a trailer full of weird stuff and weapons. Weapons like the bloody axe.
Not the first kill …
What a brave little Grimm he had been last year. Confessing the murders to his aunt and his friend like a good dog which showed his prey to his master.
Nick's right hand became a fist.
Alien! Grimm-Alien, the Monster!
With a scream, half full of anger, half full of pain, he hit the mirror. The glas cracked but he didn't feel the bloody wounds on his fingers.
Damned murderer! That he was! Nothing more.
Did he really deserved this? Why this grudge come up to haunt him? Why he couldn't go back into his normal life, ignoring all the Wesen everywhere?
Because the most Wesen recognized him. And the most Wesen would do everything to fight a Grimm.
The bloody axe, the symbol of his kind.
Fucking Grimm! Burning in the fires of hell.
A tear ran out of Nick's eye. One single tear. He felt so damned helpless, so lonely, so …
Again his fist crashed into the damaged mirror, the pain showed him that he was still alive.
Fucking life!
Why he'd done what he'd done? Why he gave in to his instincts?
He still didn't get it. Only a week ago they were together, standing on the porch, kidding and pocking each other. And now … ?
Nick felt the sobbing from the very deep inside of himself.
He'd done this! He! The good guy, the friend! The fucking Alien-Grimm-Monster-thing that he'd become more and more during the last months.
Finally he found out about whom Catherine Schade had told his mother. The Royal, living in Portland, he'd found him. Maybe the one person in this endless drama able to help him getting back what he'd lost. Maybe …
Damned Alien! Fucking Grimm! Stupid Monster!
He'd trusted him for so long! He was his boss, a good man, police-captain and sometimes friend. Nick, growing up without father, had seen something in him that made him a kind of father-figure. He always seemed so concerned about the men and women, working at the precinct, especially about Nick.
Alien! Monster! Grimm!
Why on earth had he done this? Why had he killed the only one who possible could help him?
Because it was his nature, a little voice inside himself told him. Because he was a Grimm. And Grimm were there to hunt down Wesen, no matter if Royal, Hexenbiest or Blutbad.
Nick took a deep breath.
Now it was his turn. Would he be able to stay alive? Now? As a hunted man? This time he couldn't lie himself out of the trouble. This time it was clear who the killer was.
Without Juliette on his side, without Monroe, helping him only by listening to his tiny little real-life problems, without Hank and Rosalee, what was left?
The many tiny images of himself in the broken mirror answered:
"Nothing!"
Nothing …
Alien! Grimm! Monster!
Nothing …
Nicks hand ran once more over his face. The face, so handsome to human, but also the face of a monster, an alien.
What was left now?
The trailer, the books, all the weird stuff and the weapons. And … his inheritage as a Grimm.
Nick grabbed the axe and moved around, taking one look at the beheaded body on the floor. The body of Sean Renard.
"Sorry for that, Boss", Nick said, than he left the apartment – left his life, left everything …