Author's Note: Alright folks, here is yet another chapter :) Hope you enjoy it like you have the previous ones.

I had trouble figuring out how Nick would invite Sean to talk so I hope that part came out alright. Let me know what you think! ;-)

Enjoy!


Chapter XI

Detective Hank Griffin sat staring at his computer screen. The light was harsh on his tired eyes but he continued to just look at it. His mind wandered from what he knew he should be doing to the day he'd had up to this point.

First there was the gruesome crime scenes. That had been bad, especially the one at the house. In a way Hank was thankful that the kid's parents had already been dead because he doubted they would have survived knowing just how horribly their son had died. When he'd entered the bedroom and found the kid's head just resting placidly on top of his chest like that was where he had belonged, Hank had felt his stomach begin to revolt. He'd been able to control it until he saw what had Nick looking equally as pale as the dead kid. When he saw all the random body parts inside the closet – that had been bad enough – but the smell from the rotting flesh had done him in. He was thankful that he hadn't been the only one to have trouble with that scene, though, as Nick had begun the flight out of the house.

After Nick had called the scene in, they'd both remained outside so as to no disturb the crime scene any more than they potentially already had. Forensics would never let them live it down if they accidentally screwed something up; especially if it ended up being something vital. There was something in the way Nick was taking all of this that bothered Hank. It was obvious that his partner knew something and he wasn't telling Hank, but he also seemed to be unnaturally angry about it all as well. It made no sense since Nick had only met this family during that one case and it hadn't been like they'd been close during it either. From their second visit the family had made it perfectly clear that they had disliked Nick, and extremely at that. So why was Nick looking like he was ready to tear the head off the guy who had done this?

It was a mystery that would have had to wait as not five minutes later, uni's showed up with forensics trailing. Both Nick and Hank had filled the newcomers in on what they would find inside and while the uni's proceeded to jest with them about not being able to handle "a little blood", forensics went straight in. The team that had shown up had worked with Nick and Hank before and so they knew that if this pair had trouble handling the sight, then it was pretty bad. Hank had stifled a snort while Nick had merely smirked when the uni's had come out and immediately lost their breakfasts after only being in the house for a couple of minutes. They made no comment, something which seemed to feel harder than it should have been, at the ones that had teased them and simply followed one of the forensics techs when they had come out to beckon both detectives back inside.

Everyone had been puzzled by the writing that had filled the dividing wall between the hall and the bedroom. For one, they were confused by how Nick and Hank hadn't noticed any of it before since it was kind of hard to miss. However when they pointed the rest of the crime scene out – including the parts in the closet – forensics and the uni's had admitted that they had a fair point. The other part that made them all simply stare was that none of them knew what in the hell it said.

Like when they had come across the fighting ring with words in Latin, Nick pulled out his phone and began to take pictures in order to show the Captain when they got back to the precinct. They were both sure that there wasn't a language the man didn't know and therefore assumed he'd be able to translate.

They had been about to get into the car, intent on doing just that, when Nick's phone had rung. He had automatically gone into whispering and trying to keep Hank out of the conversation but he could still here a bit of it. The man on the other line sounded close to panicked and Nick was trying to calm him down while keeping him from saying too much. When Hank had parked the car, Nick had abruptly cut the man off and hung up, but he wasn't going to get out of it so easily.

Nick confronted him about his staring and so Hank took that as an invitation to just get it all out in the open. He was getting kind of sick of avoidance and the general lies, anyways. When presented with the fact that Hank knew Nick knew more than he was saying – not just about everything but this specific case as well – Nick had sighed and lowered his head. Hank had patiently waited for his friend to decide what to do and what came next was unexpected but not.

Hiding his surprise at being ordered out of the Dodge and into Nick's own SUV, Hank followed his friend, all the while wondering where it was they were going. He tried asking but when he got a relatively vague answer in response, he decided just to hold onto any further questions in hopes that they would be answered all in good time.

The car jerked as Nick was forced to slam on the brakes in order to avoid a collision and Hank had just looked over at his partner – why he didn't know; he supposed it was a natural human reaction to avoiding danger – in time to see him wince. It suddenly occurred to Hank that Nick had been doing that a lot throughout the day and it was beginning to get on his nerves a bit. He couldn't decide what he was more annoyed with – the fact that Nick was hurt and was hiding it or that he insisted on pushing the injury and could end up doing more damage.

They had parked the car and begun to walk to their destination while Hank got to the bottom of the problem. He was torn between smacking the man upside the head for his complete inability to be on desk duty so that he could totally heal and just letting the matter drop while keeping a close eye on him. He inwardly frowned at the more noticeable limp but when he heard a multitude of voice – and angry ones at that – Hank opted for the latter option. If all else failed, he would talk to the Captain about the issue later.

Things only got weirder from there. Nick sarcastically welcomed Hank to his "meeting" and then entered the building which served as an old-time apothecary shop. What Hank next saw made his mind immediately deny it and start trying to come with more rational explanations for it. Unable to take it all in, Hank left. He went outside to pace for a little bit, hoping the minute exercise would help his brain cycle through the images a bit easier. He knew almost instantly that it wouldn't have. Behind him he heard Nick call his name but he ignored it in favor of trying to get away.

A small part of his mind, however, chose to remind him that his friend and partner was – apparently – injured and probably shouldn't be trying to chase him down through the streets of Portland – because Hank knew that was exactly what Nick would have done had he kept going – and so he slowed down and allowed the man to catch up with him.

Hank couldn't understand it. He couldn't process it. The only thing he could come up with was that he was now starting to go insane thanks to the stress from his job. In a last ditch attempt at reassuring himself that he was alright, Hank had asked Nick what he had just seen. His fear was morphed by a dwarf star of surprise when Nick had explained that not only was Hank not going crazy – albeit not in those terms – but that he could see them as well and there was a whole species dedicated to them.

Sometime during his explanation, Nick's voice had begun to change from exasperated explanation to urgent worry bordering on panic. It was then that Hank seemed to come to himself and it was just in time to realize that Nick had mentioned the word riot in association with the shop. Knowing Nick he'd try and go in by himself to stop a fight and Hank wasn't having that.

Steeling himself for anything he might see inside, Hank followed his partner back into the shop and joined him in pushing their way to where the clock maker was standing next to the patron of the shop. Hank either didn't have time to be surprised or hid it when he heard the clock maker address Nick familiarly. If Nick was friends with the guy – so what? It was a bit unusual, sure; especially given that Nick had once tried to have the maker arrested for kidnapping. But if it worked, it worked and Hank wasn't going to question it.

Hank had listened with rapt attention as every began talking but he soon tuned them all out when a small group with vicious-looking intent began inching their way towards where they all stood. It didn't take Hank long to notice that they were focusing solely on Nick and it took even less for him to instantly step in the way. Body heat so warm it could have been a blanket permeated his left side and out of his peripheral, Hank noticed that the clock maker had joined him in protecting Nick. This time Hank was surprised. Being friends was one thing; but being such close friends that they would protect you at their own expense took either time or a lot of dangerous experiences. Since the two hadn't known each other even a year, Hank guessed it was the latter which made him all the more curious.

The word grimm kept being thrown around. Well, it was more like spat out from the group in front of him, but still. Hank wanted so much to ask what it was but he knew that now was not the right time. So, he stayed relatively near his friend and simply listened and did his best to learn as much as he could.

When one of the victims' name had been mentioned, Hank felt himself drawn in. He received a shock like a cold bucket of water when the person who had mentioned Frank Rabe had suddenly become a bear with human-like features. What the hell was going on?

Nick stepping in front of him drew Hank back to the present and when his friend next spoke it had been with a voice colder than Hank had ever heard coming from the man. It was obvious to Hank by his posture alone that Nick was steadily getting angrier with the group before them and for some reason, Hank began to hope that Nick didn't start any kind of fight. It was weird, thinking that his partner would just randomly start what probably would have been a massacre with a bunch of strangers just because he was angry. But there was a vibe radiating off the man that screamed at him not to doubt his instincts.

The group's reaction to his tone must have done something to Nick because the next thing Hank knew, the man had sighed – the sound screaming defeat – and then turned to the clock maker and proprietor and asked them to explain what this whole affair was about.

From there, the conversation seemed to flow easily with the couple teaming up in their explanation. But when Nick had said that he'd already seen the pictures – meaning from their investigation this morning – the group to Hank's left had immediately begun to react. The next sound Hank heard made the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end. It took him a few minutes to realize that it had come from the clock maker and that it had been an almost feral growl. It had the desired effect, however and the group instantly calmed – if calm could have been a word to describe them all.

Something about the way the group kept judging Nick, believing him to be able of committing such atrocities got under Hank's skin. He wasn't even aware of his mouth moving until he heard himself explain that they were investigating the deaths of the Rabe family for the Portland P.D.

When another from the group had all but begged Nick to tell him that he hadn't killed the family, Hank had expected Nick to explode in anger. Not for the umpteenth time he found himself surprised by his friend instead. He was kind and patient in his response. One could have almost called it indulgent but Hank wasn't going to go there.

After a few minutes' silence, Nick dismissed the large group. Why, Hank wasn't sure but he did know that he was grateful as they were starting to get on his nerves. His words said that it was a suggestion but Nick's tone brooked no argument and so the group left. Hank didn't miss many of the murderous looks that were being thrown at his partner and he made a mental note to make sure he kept an even closer, more protective, eye on his friend. The last thing Hank needed or wanted was for Nick to get hurt – or god forbid, killed.

His mind skipped over much of the next part as the woman began to attempt at making them all more comfortable. Instead it focused on the history that Nick had begun to relay shortly after all that. Now Hank knew what a grimm was. He didn't fully understand it but at least it had been explained. It also explained all the weird cases he and Nick seemed to be getting lately and why Nick had been acting as he had.

Their conversation, and Nick's story, ended when Hank's phone had rung. The Captain had been expecting them back much sooner than this and had been wondering where they were. It was odd that their boss would be keeping such a close eye on them. While Nick had mentioned that the Captain was apparently one of these creatures they call wesen, he had been unsure about what he was. Hank had a feeling that the clock maker had been dying to tell them but then the man himself had called and the two detectives had found themselves being called back in to work.

"Hey," Nick greeted, bringing Hank out of his memories and pushing him back into reality. Hank noted that he was limping still, but with a torn muscle, he also supposed that was to be expected. Though Nick was trying to exude calmness and relaxation, Hank felt his tension as though it were his own. "Look, about earlier-"

"Don't even try it," Hank interrupted before his friend could get another word out. He shifted so that he was leaning forward on his knees and fixed his attention fully on his partner. "Look, I'm glad you told me."

"You are?" Nick challenged in disbelief. His eyebrows were raised hid, his expression matching his tone, and he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked like he was readying himself for a fight of one kind or another, but Hank didn't intend on giving him one.

"Yeah," Hank assured. "Now I know that all the crazy stuff that's been happening around Portland actually has an explanation. Is it a rational one? No, but it's an explanation."

Nick's expression continued to reveal his doubt but Hank wasn't going to continue. The man would just have to come to accept what he'd just said as the truth on his own terms. After another minute or two of staring at Hank, Nick visibly relaxed and he gave a small sigh disguised as a breath. He smiled the little half smile he sometimes does and leant forward to examine the report on his desk.

Case closed, Hank mentally announced. He wasn't sure if he'd have to reassure his friend again sometime in the near future but as of right now, both knew things were settled.

"Nick," the Captain called, standing half in and half out of his office. When Nick looked up from the report he'd been reading, he continued, "Can I see you for a minute?"

Nick threw Hank a look they always give one another when the Captain only wants to see one of them and then got out of his chair. Hank noted that it looked as though the man was trying to move as though he didn't hurt and Hank just shook his head.

Stubborn idiot, he thought as he turned his attention back to his glaring computer screen. Thankfully, Hank had filled the Captain in on Nick's apparent and undisclosed injury so now the whole thing was in their boss' hands. Hank wished the man luck; Nick was a stubborn man.

oOo

Sean watched Nick as he limped into his office. The grimm tried to hide the weakness but either the leg was too weak or too painful for him to fully disguise it. Besides, Sean could smell the injury on him.

On the air, Sean could smell the usual precinct scents; stale coffee, sweat, several different kinds of cologne, and forty-year-old building. But lying just beneath that, Sean could distinguish the scent that was Nick – soap, clean laundry, and spice – but mixed in was a tang that made the regnant gag. It smelled – and tasted, quite frankly – of copper mixed with sulfur. The copper was understandable; no doubt the muscle beneath the skin was still bleeding slightly, probably from the strain Nick had been putting on the leg during the day. The sulfur was something new to Sean. Gauging from the limp, it was probably the smell of Nick in pain.

Damn the reapers! Sean's protective side inwardly cursed, the regnant within snarling angrily. Was his family so desperate that they couldn't wait for Sean to get the key for them?

Don't you mean for yourself, a sly voice asked while Nick came to a stand in front of Sean's desk. Sean silently told the voice to shut up while he closed the door and sat down across from the grimm. For a moment, he thought about telling Nick to sit down but he knew that if Nick had wanted to sit down, he would have and so he said nothing.

"Hank tells me that you're injured," Sean stated, not really liking to beat around the bush.

Nick's posture went from stiff to stiffer as he silently became more defensive. He opened his mouth to argue but Sean held up a hand for silence and pushed on.

"I didn't bring you in here to lecture you or mother-hen you," he announced. He was going to tell the man to relax but apparently that went unsaid as Nick visibly did just that. "I just want you to make complete sure that you're ready to be in the field. I don't need you putting yourself or Hank in danger because you don't want to do a bit of desk duty."

"I'm fine," Nick responded, though Sean knew that it wasn't the truth.

Still, the regnant accepted the words as the truth and moved on. "I heard things got a little heated at the Spice Shop today. Everything okay?"

"How do you know about what happened at the Spice Shop?" Nick returned, once again becoming defensive.

It didn't surprise Sean that the grimm was being as mistrusting of him as he was. Sure, it hurt a bit, given the bond that Sean felt with the man, but it was understandable. Sean had lied to Nick for the past year, longer actually but Nick didn't know that yet. He'd also done other things in the name of his own agenda but, again, Nick didn't know about any of that yet. And besides, it wasn't in a grimm's nature to be trusting of those that weren't in their inner circle and Sean hadn't quite earned that privilege yet.

"Nick, every wesen knows about the Spice Shop," Sean answered, refusing to tell the grimm about the team of hexenbieste's he has following the man about.

"But you aren't exactly wesen, are you?" Nick challenged with a little snark in his tone.

"I see someone's been filling you in on the way things are around here," Sean responded, doing his best to refrain from smiling. It was ridiculous how cute he found Nick right now. "Please give Monroe my thanks for saving me the trouble."

Nick didn't respond. He kept staring at Sean as though he were still trying to decide if he was the enemy or a friend. Sean sighed, tiring quickly of this entire conversation.

"Nick, I'm only trying to help," Sean said as the sigh finished itself.

Nick nodded to show that he'd heard but his posture remained…prickly.

"Well, I would say 'then why don't you start from the beginning'," Nick started, sounding more than a little snide. "But right now and right here don't seem like the time or the place."

Sean smiled, though he couldn't say why. "No, it isn't," he agreed. He wanted to suggest that Nick come to his place so they could talk in safety as well as privacy but he knew that Nick would instantly refuse. He would want either common ground or home-field advantage, neither of which defined Sean's place.

"Look," Nick said, clearly running out of patience as well. "I don't know if this is the way to do this but I can't really think of any other place and, quite frankly I'm not in the mood to be anywhere else at the moment, so why don't you swing by my house tonight around ten or so and then you can fill me in on anything you think that I've missed."

Home-field advantage it is. Sean was more than a little nervous about being in a grimm's territory on by his self – regnant or not – but as this was Nick and Nick was fair, he swallowed his unease as though it were nothing and nodded. Underneath the nerves was a giddiness that thoroughly disgusted Sean. After all, it wasn't as if Nick's invitation had been friendly; actually it could have been considered damn near hostile.

"Quite the night owl," Sean commented, smirking a little.

Nick didn't return his smile. His blue eyes were almost the same shade of colored ice as he replied, "You aren't the only one who works late."

Whether or not that was a hint that Nick suspected that Sean had something to do with his aunt's death, Sean didn't know but he wasn't given time to find out as Nick walked out without another word. His limp was definitely noticeable now and Sean shook his head. He should have just demanded that Nick sit down. But he wasn't Nick's mother and he wasn't there to take care of Nick – well to solely take care of Nick – and so he left it alone. If all else fails, Sean will check on the wound tonight…that was, if Nick let him.

Sean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. God save him from stubborn grimms.

oOo

Nick walked out of the Captain's office and headed straight to his desk. His leg had been throbbing constantly since the Spice Shop and it was really beginning to grate on his nerves. The pain wasn't that bad but it was starting to wear on him and Nick felt his patience for the political games that Renard was playing wane until it was non-existent.

"Everything okay?" Hank asked as he leaned down to open his drawer and grab his things.

"Yeah," Nick smoothly replied, smiling to add more assurance. "I just have a lead that I need to track down."

"A lead, huh?' Hank persisted, obviously not believing him.

"Yeah," Nick responded. "You remember what those are, right? We use them to try and solve cases. Ringing a bell?"

"Yeah, okay smart ass," Hank answered with a smile. "I'll let you get away from my questions this time, but tomorrow, you and I are gonna have a long talk over some beers."

Having known that this was coming, Nick smiled and agreed that he would. He had a feeling that Hank's company was going to be much more preferable than that of the Captain's but the beer was a good incentive as well. Maybe he should have suggested that the Captain bring some along with him tonight. Nick shook his head to erase the idea. It was bad enough that he'd invited the wesen over to his house – and that his stomach had done a little flop of excitement when the Captain had accepted – he wasn't about to add beverages to the mix and have it potentially add a friendliness to the invitation where there really wasn't any.

Just as he reached his truck in the underground, Nick swiftly pivoted to look behind him. He had the sneaky suspicion that he was being followed, but unlike when the Captain had openly stared at him, it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling. Well, not entirely at least.

Still, when he looked there was no one behind him. Knowing that that really didn't mean anything, Nick turned around and climbed into his truck, grateful when he was surrounded by the peace of the vehicle.

The engine roared to life and Nick immediately began to back out of the parking space. The headlights illuminated the far corner of the parking structure and for a second, Nick thought he'd seen a person dressed in all black hiding there but when he looked again, the figure had gone.

Writing it off as a day spend being tightly wound, Nick shrugged it off and began to head to the storage yard. He had some research he needed to do anyways and whether or not someone was following him wasn't going to distract him from finding potential answers. No. He'd save that problem for another day.

TBC