Nick pulled into his spot in the police station parking lot. As he shifted into park, he looked back at the kid. He hadn't said a word since telling the detectives that he could explain. Nick wondered if maybe it was some kind of PTSD. He hoped not. He didn't want to call in the department psychologist, from what Nick's brief experience with him during his annual psych eval could tell, he was a real pretentious jerk.

Now, though, the kid was staring across the parking lot at someone being led out of a squad car. When he looked closer, he saw that it was the guy they had found with him in the apartment. An unhappy looking Wu was leading him towards the entrance into the station.

Nick looked closely at the kid for signs of fear or apprehension of the man. Instead, he was surprised to see relief, and when they caught eyes, an unspoken conversation seemed to pass between them. That was weird.

They eventually settled on putting the green eyed man in one of their two interrogation rooms and the teenager in the other. Nick noticed that the kid seemed all too comfortable in the police station, and he wondered if he might have been arrested before. Hank interrupted his train of thought.

"That kid gives me the creeps. He's too quiet. Its weird."

Nick turned to him and smiled. "Not afraid of a teenager, are you?"

Hank snorted.

"No."

He paused for a moment.

"Still, I'll do you a favor and interrogate the psycho killer. You can take the kid."

Nick laughed and clicked the door open. The kid looked up when he heard Nick come in, and for a second he thought he was going to say something, but he closed his mouth again with a click. Nick sighed. This was going to be difficult.

"What's your name?" He asked. The kid just jiggled his leg and clamped his jaw even tighter.

"Look, you can either tell me or I can get the department psychologist and they can run tests for hours."

The kid thought about it for a moment, and he must have had a bad experience with psychologists, because he said reluctantly,

"Stiles."

To make sure he heard it right, after all it was a very strange name, Nick asked him to repeat it.

"Stiles, OK? My name's Stiles."

Noticing Nick's confused face, he muttered,

"It's a nickname, OK?"

Realizing he wasn't going to get anything more from the teen, Nick took a seat across from him at the table.

"Okay, Stiles."

Nick said, " Why don't you tell me what exactly happened to get you tied to a chair in a room full of dead bodies?"

Stiles just folded his arms and shook his head.

"Come on, you gotta tell me something." Nick said, exasperated.

The kid was starting to bounce, the jiggle in his knee moving up his whole leg. Nick was starting to get irritated, and he knew he would get even less out of the kid when he was like this, so he stood up to leave.

"I wanna see Derek."

It came from Stiles so quickly that Nick almost missed it.

"What did you say?"

Stiles shook his head, and Nick could tell that he regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth.

"Who's Derek?" He tried again, but Stiles just clamped his mouth shut as if to stop anymore wayword sentences from escaping. Nick left the room, confused.

Who was Derek? Stiles' friend, or maybe his dad or guardian? Nick rubbed his temple, where he could feel a headache starting to form. He hoped Hank was having better luck with the other guy.

Hank was getting more and more frustrated. He had been trying to interrogate the guy for almost half an hour. The key word being "trying". The guy had just sat there the entire time, not saying anything, not even looking at him. Hank was inches away from hitting the guy when Nick walked in.

From the look on his face, his interview with the kid hadn't gone well. Nick took a seat next to Hank silently, who continued his failed attempts to get at least a name from the man. Suddenly, and without warning, Nick interrupted.

"You're Derek, aren't you?"

The man looked up quickly, and Hank could tell Nick had gotten it right.

"How do you know that?"

The man growled, the first words they had heard him say. Nick grinned. Now they were getting somewhere.

"Your friend Stiles told me all about you."

This was a slight over exaggeration, it was just pure luck that Nick's hunch about the man's identity had been right. Derek's eyes suddenly had a terrifying look to them.

"What did you do to him?"

Derek growled with a sudden ferocity. Hank involuntarily scooted his chair backwards a little bit.

"Why do you assume that I did something?" Nick asked the other man calmly.

Derek looked like he was choosing his words carefully.

"You have a… smell. Of something different"

Nick was surprised. Was he a Wesen? It would explain the men's ripped out throats. But most Wesen couldn't tell that he was a Grimm just by smell alone. No, he decided, this was just a very odd murderer.

Nick was suddenly aware that the other man's hands were still covered in drying blood. He was dangerous, no doubt about it. So how did Stiles get himself mixed up with him? He gestured to Hank that he wanted to talk to him outside and they left the room silently, Derek still glaring at them.

When they were out of the room, Nick turned to Hank. "So, what do you think?" He asked his partner. Hank shook his head and sighed.

"I have no idea. Is he Wesen?"

He asked. Nick reluctantly shook his head.

"I don't think so. I didn't see him Woge when he got mad, but he could have been faking the anger."

Hank glanced at the clock.

"I don't know about you but I'm getting tired. You want me to go for a quick coffee run?"

Nick nodded. "Coffee sounds good right about now."