Author's note: Thank you to ZabuzasGirl, Rasha007, Luna von Rae, NicoleR85, partygirl98, NotMarge, musicjunkie1996, and kmj1989 for the reviews! You guys are all over this, haha. Hank for president! Well, not that far, but yeah. You guys get it.

I posted the first chapter for Raven's POV of the kidnapping chapters, if anyone's interested in reading that. It's called What Could Be. I planned for it to be a one-shot, but it got too long for that. So it'll probably be two to three chapters long. I don't really have a schedule for updating it, though, so please bear with me on that. Big thanks to Rasha007 for the inspiration to write it!

But anyway, today we take care of Nicholas Grey! And Hank has a poignant moment...

New Beginnings

There were other things to worry about before I tried to change the world on a wider scale.

Things like dealing with Nicholas Grey, finding a new place to live, and telling the people I considered to be my parents-in-law that the mousy, diffident man they thought their goddaughter was married to was actually a furry blue beast in disguise.

But first, I needed to destroy my serum.

So after re-dressing and eating a quick breakfast, Zoey and I went down to the laboratory on a solemn mission. She stood quietly while I gathered up the remaining bottles I had of serum and my notes on its derivation.

Taking a deep breath, I released Beast in my head. The change, that feeling of bursting out of my own skin, swept over me for the last time.

"R-ready?" I asked.

My voice wasn't as strong as I would've liked. I guess contemplating the destruction of my serum was completely different from actually following through.

Step one is wanting change. Step two is taking it...

Zoey nodded and started unscrewing the tops of the bottles.

And then I poured them down the sink, one by one. Watching my normalcy go down the drain, as it were.

It wasn't as uplifting as I'd hoped it would be, destroying all of the substance that could bring so much harm to my wife and child. I guess I expected to feel this great rush of endorphins from the nobility of my self-sacrifice, but instead all I felt was a sort of hard-bitten resignation and a futile longing for my old self. I suppose I was mourning it, in a way.

The feeling didn't completely vanish when I looked at Zoey, but it definitely subsided quite a bit. I knew, without a doubt, that she was worth it. I would move past this- it would just take some time.

"Would you do the honors?" I asked her, holding up my notes.

She blinked, and the sheets of paper caught fire. The flames were blue, which I suppose was rather fitting.

I sighed as the ashes fell into the sink.

It was over.

"Good riddance," I announced, trying to sound sincere.

Somehow the words still rang hollow in my ears.

"Don't say that," Zoey argued gently. "Without that serum, I doubt we would've ever met. So that's something to be thankful for, isn't it? It's just- it's not necessary anymore, is all."

I met her gaze and found a wealth of compassion and empathy staring back at me in her eyes.

"I understand, Hank," she said. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll be ok," I promised. "Eventually. Just- just be there for me."

"Always, darling."

Zoey held out her arms, and I sank to my knees with a heavy exhale. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pressed my ear against her stomach while she stroked my hair- fur, whatever.

I had everything I needed right in my arms. I would be ok.

"Auntie, your kitties won't come out of your closet," Olivia announced, after the obligatory celebration of Zoey's safe return when we arrived at our apartment later that morning. "They're too scared."

"I'll go coax them out," Zoey said. "And if you don't mind waiting, I'm going to wash up a bit, too."

We don't mind. Nicholas might, considering he's been duct taped to a chair all night. But who cares about him?

Zoey stood on tiptoe to give me a quick kiss (to Chloe's bemusement) before disappearing into our bedroom.

As we waited for Zoey to shower I recounted an edited version of last night's events to Olivia while Chloe watched us like she expected me to let out a roar and turn her daughter into a snack at any moment.

I tried to ignore her rude staring and addressed her politely.

"Are you handling this alright, Chloe?" I asked. "How are you?"

"I'm ok," she replied in a small voice.

"We stayed up late talking and eating ice cream," Olivia added brightly. "Hopefully Auntie's not too mad we ate all of it."

"She hasn't figured out how to put it on white bread yet," I muttered, thinking of Zoey's breakfast that morning- an apple and peanut butter sandwich. "You should be fine for a few months before she notices. Unless her cravings change, and then I can't protect you."

Olivia giggled, and even Chloe let out a startled chuckle.

That surprised me. It was the first time she'd ever laughed at something I said.

Actually, I couldn't recall ever hearing Chloe Grey laugh.

Maybe she's not so bad, away from her jackass husband.

All too soon it was time to face said jackass.

"Are you sure all the stress you're putting yourself through is a good idea?" I asked Zoey tentatively as we followed Chloe and Olivia over to the house in our own car.

"I'm not stressed," Zoey replied blithely. "I'm so furious I'm absolutely calm."

I wouldn't want to be Grey right now. Angry pregnant Zoey on the loose.

I know I would be terrified.

Nicholas had managed to knock himself over at some point in the night, probably trying to escape. Who knew for how long he laid there awkwardly like that with his ankles and wrists duct taped to the chair?

I hoped the discomfort forced some humility and repentance into him.

"Have you come to kill me, you freaks?" he spat, still full of bravado despite the circumstances.

Or not.

"You're too pitiful for that," Zoey retorted coldly. "It'd be like killing an obnoxious puppy."

I growled at Nicholas as I set him upright. Then I took my place next to my wife. She had her arms around her sister, while Olivia was on Chloe's left.

"Come on, Chloe," Zoey encouraged. "You can do this."

"I-I want a divorce," Chloe announced timidly.

Yeah, that'll show him. Way to give it your almost, Chloe.

Nicholas snorted derisively. "You can't divorce me. What would you even do with yourself? You're worthless without me."

"Don't say that to Mama," Olivia scolded in a shrill voice. "Daddy-"

"Don't call me that," Nicholas spat. "I don't have a daughter anymore, you little freak."

Olivia recoiled like he slapped her. I couldn't imagine what it felt like to have a parent so harshly repudiate her like that.

I snarled and would've stepped forward were it not for the gentle hand Zoey laid on my arm. Nicholas immediately cringed away from me as much as the chair allowed.

"I'm not going to stay with someone who calls my daughter a freak," Chloe replied, her voice becoming more sure. It seemed like she drew strength from defending her daughter. "Or who hits me and treats me like garbage. Not anymore."

Chloe took a deep breath.

"I want you to leave this house and never come back."

"You can't kick me out-"

"I can," Zoey supplied cheerfully. "And I'll do it gladly."

"If- if you do I'll tell the cops your freak show husband assaulted me and tied me to a chair-"

"And I'll tell them you kidnapped me and beat your wife for years," she threw back. "I've heard they don't like wife-beaters in prison. Chloe, do you want to press charges?"

Nicholas turned pale as all of the blood drained out of his face at the thought of imprisonment. For all his bluster, he was a complete coward at heart.

"Only if he refuses to leave us alone," Chloe whispered. "If he promises to never bother any of us again, I won't press charges."

"You hear that, Nick?" Zoey said. "You're going to pack all of your stuff up today, and never set foot on this property again. Chloe's going to file for divorce- and probably a restraining order, just to be thorough- and then you're going to stay far, far away from all of us. Otherwise we'll make sure you spend the next twenty-plus years rotting in prison. If you survive that long."

Nicholas gaped at us, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a fish out of water. It was actually rather satisfying to see him at such a loss for words.

"It's over, Grey," I said grimly. "I want you to go back to the Friends of Humanity and tell them the serum is gone, and so is the formula. There is no cure, and there never will be. If the FOH threatens my family again, what happened last night is just a taste of what will come for them."

I stepped closer, looming over him menacingly. He cowered away from me, trying to scoot the chair back.

"And as for you- if any of these ladies so much as has an accident that seems suspect, rest assured that I will blame you for it," I growled. "And I will hunt you down like the gutless cur you are. Do you understand?"

He nodded soundlessly, looking terrified. I couldn't summon up even an ounce of pity for Nicholas, even though he was a man who had just lost everything. He was just too contemptible to feel bad for.

After that I ripped off the duct tape restraining him with my claws, and followed him around the house to keep an eye on him while he gathered his things. I didn't trust him not to try something stupid- a last gasp attempt to cause problems for all of us.

"You know, you're very attractive when you're trying to be intimidating," Zoey murmured as we watched Nicholas pack his bags into the back of his car.

Chloe and Olivia had demurred from seeing him off. I think it was too painful for them, even after everything he put them through, how hateful he was. I truly hoped that time would help heal the wounds Nicholas Grey had left on his wife and daughter.

I snorted and glanced down to see Zoey's eyes were dancing with mischief. "Really?"

"Definitely."

"If you say so," I replied, chuckling as my cheeks started to warm. Even after almost five years of marriage her compliments still did that to me.

I pulled her in for an embrace just as Nicholas finished loading the trunk.

He gave us one last baleful look, and then got in the car and drove off.

We never saw him again.

Nicholas Grey died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head a few weeks later, in a seedy motel room in New York City.