"I'm going to ask you one more time," the commanding voice echoed through the decrepit shell of the warehouse, "Where is the Key?"
The only reply was soft, painful whimpering.
"This one knows nothing," spat the voice. "Kill her."
At that pronouncement, the brothers charged forward to the sound... Unfortunately, neither noticed the gaping hole in the concrete floor that they both tumbled through, still yelling defiantly.
Their yells broke off suddenly as they landed in a roll, but they got to their feet and brandished their weapons. The gas smell was almost overwhelming, and a fine haze seemed to cloud everything.
Sam glanced over and saw the girl, duct-taped to the chair like he'd seen it. Eight dirty, wiry men surrounded her.
Dean aimed his gun at the nearest man. "Nobody touches her!" he growled. "She's coming with us!"
The man grinned slowly. Somebody coughed, and soon, they were all coughing. The haze in the room grew thicker. Surprisingly, none of them seemed to think the girl worth defending, as they backed away from the guns and knives, allowing Sam to get to the girl. He pulled out his knife to cut the tape.
"Listen," she hissed, "I don't know who you are, but you have to get away now!"
"I know," said Sam, peeling the tape from her clothes. "You're coming with us."
"No! I mean now!"
Dean cocked his shotgun. "You all stay back!" he said to the ring of kidnappers. They seemed far too relaxed, like spectators at a gladiator game, waiting to watch the carnage. One of them sucked in a deep breath.
"Look out!" the girl screamed, and the very air exploded in a gigantic fireball.
The Winchesters and the girl kissed cement as the inferno raged just above their heads.
"How are they doing this?" Sam shouted at his brother.
Dean looked up. Through the filmy haze of the heat, the men's faces almost resembled dragons; were they actually breathing fire? The flames receded, and Dean wasted no time in firing off a couple rounds, right there from his knees.
Sam did the same with his knife, taking out two more of the dragon-people as they ran forward. More fireballs exploded behind them, but they made it to the open air. The girl cried out and stumbled, and Sam saw that her left sock and shoe were covered with blood, but Dean said, "Keep running!"
Sam all but carried the girl all the way back to the Impala, where they helped her inside and took off before the flame-throwing men could catch up to them.
Finally, when Dean had returned to the main part of town and no one had pursued them, he turned around and smiled reassuringly at the girl.
"Is your name Brooke?" he asked.
She glanced from one to the other. "Who's asking? Who the hell are you guys?"
"We're the ones who rescued you from those things back there," said Sam. "It's okay, Brooke." He reached back for her hand. "You're safe. We'll protect you, we promise."
Dean pulled over to a Courtyard hotel and parked the car. "I'll get us a room," he said to Sam.
"Make it two," said Brooke. "I'm not spending the night in a room with total strangers."
Dean studied her for a moment, then nodded. After he left, Sam pulled the first-aid kit out of the glove box. "Let's get you patched up a little while we wait," he said. "I'm Sam, by the way," he got out of the car and opened the door beside Brooke, pulling up her wounded foot. "Sam Winchester; the other guy is my brother Dean."
"Brothers, huh?" Brooke said, grimacing as Sam peeled the shoe and bloody sock away.
"Do you have any siblings, Brooke?" Sam asked, keeping the conversation going to take her mind off the wounds. It would be better once they got into the room with towels and running water, but it wouldn't do to bring a bleeding woman into a hotel.
"I had a sister once," Brooke grunted. "But she disappeared."
"Oh, sorry." Sam mentally kicked himself for asking the entirely wrong question. He busied himself bandaging the deep gash on her ankle and rinsing most of the blood off the shoe with a water bottle. He slipped the shoe onto her bare foot. They would need to wash the sock later to get all the blood out.
"Brooke, do you mind if I ask you something?" He decided to go for permission this time.
"Go ahead," she replied. "You saved my life, it's the least I can do."
"When Dean and I first got to the building, we heard the man mention a key; do you know what he was talking about?"
Brooke's eyes remained expressionless, but there was a small flicker around her lips as she replied, "No; I wish I did, but I have no idea where that key is." She blinked intense blue eyes. "But I need to find it, and before those guys do." She smirked at Sam. "You guys seemed to find me pretty easily; how would you like to help me find a key?"
The next morning, Juliette woke up and Nick was not in bed-but his pajamas were not draped on the chair where they usually were when he had gotten dressed early. Puzzled, Juliette threw on a robe and left the bedroom.
Trubel was just coming out of her room at the same time.
"Trubel, have you seen Nick?" Juliette asked.
The odd girl would not meet Juliette's gaze all of a sudden. "Um, downstairs I think," she mumbled, ducking back into her room again.
"Nick?" Juliette called, peering down the stairs to spot him as she descended. "Nick, why are you-ohmigosh!"
Nick jumped awake, from the armchair in which he had fallen asleep, at Juliette's cry. At first he didn't know why he was in the armchair, or why Juliette looked so horrified... Then he saw the wounded girl on the couch and every moment if that bizarre night came back. So it wasn't a dream after all... The man, Trubel helping him bandage the unconscious girl, him dismissing her to bed while he watched the girl...
Juliette came to stand by Nick as their mysterious guest stirred. She opened her eyes and blinked, flinching in fright when she saw the three strangers watching her.
"Wh-where am I?" she asked, fighting to sit up, and realizing all the bandages she now wore.
"You're in Portland, Oregon," Nick explained.
She waved her hand, "I know that." She sat up and looked at him. "Are you the Portland Grimm?"
Nick blinked. "How did you know?"
The girl gave a sigh of relief-not the typical reaction Nick received with such a revelation.
"I didn't, till just now," she replied. "But I've been looking for you everywhere. You see," she ducked her head and fiddled with the bandage on her wrist, "I'm a Grimm too, but I don't know much about them."
"Really?" Trubel asked. "So am I!"
"And what about you?" the girl turned to Juliette. "Are you a Grimm as well?"
Juliette shook her head emphatically. "Who, me? Oh, no; I'm not a-a Grimm or a Wesen. I'm, um, a-"
"A Kheirseite-schlich-kennen?" The girl supplied.
Juliette nodded. "Yeah, that." She fidgeted nervously. "You know what? I'm going to cook us up some breakfast while you three Grimms chat." She left the room immediately.
Trubel sat on the couch next to the girl. "So, you got a name?"
"Brooke," the girl answered.
Nick watched her; there was something familiar about this girl.
"Well, I'm Trubel, and this is Nick. The woman cooking breakfast is his wife, Juliette."
Brooke nodded and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Nick noticed the bracelet she wore: a six-pointed Star of David. It all came rushing back-but was it really her? He sat forward. "Brooke... Were you the one who helped me kill the Mauvais Dentes last week?"
Brooke blinked, remembering that terrifying night. "Yeah, that was me."
Juliette came in at this time, carrying a bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate of sausages. She grabbed plates from the cupboard and they all sat there in the living room to eat.
"So tell me, Brooke," said Juliette. "How did you get here?"
Brooke swallowed a bite of sausage and answered, "I hitched it all the way from Salem."
"Alone?"
"No; a band of Wesen took me in."
Nick glanced at Trubel, well remembering the antagonism she felt against the "creature-people." "And you were okay with that?"
Brooke looked confused and almost offended. "What? It's not like they were out to kill me or anything. I was raised by Wesen, at an orphanage in Eugene, so I guess I'm used to them."
"So you walked to my house from Salem-then who was the guy?" asked Nick.
"What guy?" Brooke reached for another helping of eggs.
"The guy who brought you to my house last night."
Brooke paused and studied him. "I have no idea how I got to your house last night. All I know is, I ran into some trouble last night, somewhere along Highway 26, and I blacked out... Then I woke up here." She frowned in confusion. "You're saying you didn't go find me and carry me back here?"
Nick snorted, "I didn't even know you before you showed up bleeding on my couch; how could I possibly find you?"
"Oh..." Brooke set her plate aside and pondered deeply. Abruptly, she looked up. "It might have something to do with this." She reached to her collar and pulled out a key hanging on a chain.
Juliette gasped. "Nick, is that another one?"
Nick shrugged. "Trubel and I found it last night when we were patching you up. Can I see it?"
"Sure." Brooke handed it over. "That was one of the reasons I wanted to find you, so you could tell me more about the key."
Nick went to the desk in his home office to grab a piece of paper and an ink pad. "Unfortunately, I don't know much about the keys, other than there are seven altogether, each is imprinted with part of a map depicting somewhere in Europe, and I have two of them." He pressed Brooke's key into the ink and stamped the paper carefully. They studied the resulting image together.
"Well," Trubel remarked when no one else said anything, "that's not a map."
"Is it Hebrew?" Juliette mused. "What does it say?"
"Hashomer achi enochi." Brooke pronounced the words carefully. "It means, Am I My Brother's Keeper."
Nick raised an eyebrow at her, and Brooke shrugged.
"The Maushertz who raised me was Jewish, and she kind of ran the orphanage like a synagogue. I picked up a few phrases here and there." She sighed and hung the key around her neck. "But I guess if the point of this whole trip was to find out what the key was, then it's a bust."
"Not completely," Trubel spoke up. "I mean, you're a Grimm, but do you know what that's all about?"
"Well," Brooke shifted uncomfortably, "no..."
"Nick can teach you," Trubel offered. "He's got a whole trailer full of stuff that-"
"Trubel!" Nick cut her off with a warning look.
Juliette reached over and grasped Brooke's hand, glancing at the bandaged cuts all along her arm. "In all honesty, you really should stick around till your wounds heal."
Brooke looked hopeful. "You'd let me stay?"
Juliette swallowed her reluctance and smiled. "Sure! What's one more Grimm when we already have two? There's one more guest room you can have."
"Thank you!" Brooke cried.
Trubel took her hand, every inch the older sister she was always meant to be. "Come on, kid; I'll show you around."
When the girls left, Juliette shot Nick a worried look. "Would you mind explaining this to me? What are we, Nick? Some exclusive Grimm halfway house?"
"No," Nick answered. "Don't worry; I have a feeling Brooke is going to be more temporary than Trubel ended up. The man who brought her last night said that some brothers will be coming to receive her. I'm just supposed to keep her safe till they arrive."
Juliette sighed and gathered up the dishes. "Just once I'd like a full explanation of what's going on!" she grumbled.
Nick couldn't agree with her more.