A Grimm Comes to Town

by wittyretort77

An older, more experienced and more deadly Grimm comes to Portland. This Grimm doesn't share Nick Burkhardt's moral compass. Nick has to find a way to stop him from hurting more Wesen, all while dealing with the aftermath of the spellwork Adalind had done in year's past leaving him all but incapacitated. This story takes place after the series finale.

5. A Grimm Comes to Town Part 5

Chapter 15

Charles Spencer returned to his bench. His last victim had no money on him at all. Spencer was able to use the last of the money he had left to purchase himself a meal which he was eating now. His eyes scanned the nearby road waiting for his target to return. He'd seen her traveling on this road a few times but he was still having trouble determining where she had been going. He only had a couple more days before his plans would finally pan out and he'd have to leave Portland, possibly for good. If he saw her again, he'd have to be faster this time. He'd have to be more patient, too. No more random vermin. For all he knew, he'd missed his target from chasing down the last piece of filth, and what with his time constraints he couldn't afford to be sidetracked again.

For now, he'd wait and watch.

---

Hank was sitting at his desk. He hadn't worked a case on his own in a few days. Instead, he'd been passed around, consulting on other cases as needed. He'd listened in on a couple of interrogations, offering his expertise to some newer detectives. He made a mental note on a couple cases that they may be Wesen related and planned to show them to Nick once he was able to return to the office.

Even though Nick and Adalind couldn't have a traditional honeymoon, Nick had scheduled vacation time after his wedding so he could treat Adalind to some romantic evenings without interruption. Therefore, no one in the Portland PD noticed anything amiss with Nick being unable to leave his loft for the past few days. Hank, however, wondered if Nick would be able to return to full time duty if he couldn't resolve his sensory problems. Hank shook his head at the thought of having to deal with potential Wesen cases and not having Nick there to help. Even though Hank had been a detective for years before knowing anything about Wesen, he didn't think he could handle the near constant wondering if each case he could potentially work in the future would have underlying Wesen problems attached to it.

Sergeant Wu stepped up to Hank's desk and slapped a folder down onto it, "We just had a Spencer sighting. We're sending a cruiser to the area to try to confirm."

"Belay that." Both Wu and Hank were startled by Renard coming up from behind them to order that the cruiser stand down. "I have people in the area already, I'm going to have them check it out. Pull anyone else out of the area."

Wu called back as he walked off, "I'll notify them to stand down and to await further instructions."

Hank looked up at his captain and said, "You have people in the area." It wasn't a question.

Renard nodded and said, "That's all you need to know." Then he walked back to his office.

---

Trubel had dropped Sam back at the Spice shop so she could get in her own vehicle and drive herself home. Then Trubel drove herself back to Nick's loft and they sat together and talked for a short while. Nick was feeling better than he'd ever felt. He said colors were incredibly vivid, he felt stronger, healthier and faster than ever. He also said that he could still identify Wesen without them being Woged. The blue shimmer that he had seen hovering over the faces of Wesen hadn't necessarily gone away, but had faded into a barely observable aura. More importantly, it didn't hurt to look at it anymore.

Trubel was a little jealous but understood that the cost of his abilities was pretty severe. Being forced to be apart from his newly married wife for an undetermined length of time. He had called Adalind earlier in the evening and he said they did their best to not dwell on the negative and instead try to focus on fixing the problem.

Trubel was just about to leave when Nick said, "Something came in the mail today that you're going to want to see."

Trubel couldn't think of anything that could ever arrive in the mail that would be important except maybe a past due notice. He handed her an envelope that had already been torn open. She pulled out the contents and when she unfolded it, she saw it was the official certificate of adoption. The county of Multnomah now recognized Nick as her legal father. Her name on the document read as Theresa Rubel Burkhardt.

She said, "I didn't know there was going to be a certificate."

Nick nodded and said, "I'd frame it, but it's possible you may end up needing it for stuff. You know, like if you ever decide to get a drivers license the legal way, you might need that." Trubel had numerous fake identities thanks to her time with HW, so she rarely needed to get an ID the old fashioned way. She folded up the certificate and slid it into the inside pocket of her leather jacket.

Nick said, "I'm sorry that we never got to take time out to celebrate that."

Trubel shook her head and said, "You know neither of us is any good with the sentimental stuff anyway."

Nick nodded. She wasn't wrong. He replied, "Yeah, but I think I'm getting better at it." He proved it by grabbing Trubel by the shoulder and bringing her in for a hug.

She hugged him back and said, "You think it's gonna be weird when I start introducing you to people as my dad?" It was positioned as a joke. But Nick felt she was asking for his permission without asking directly.

Nick chuckled as he released his hug and said, "You know what, let it be weird. If that's the most weird we get in an average week, I think we'll be glad for it."

Then he asked her, "What are you doing tomorrow? We haven't sparred in ages and I'm feeling a lot of cabin fever."

Trubel asked, "What about Adalind?"

Nick said, "She's actually having the same problem I am. She wants to be outside. Unless someone can figure out a solution to why we can't be near each other, she's going on a hike tomorrow."

Trubel nodded as she walked into the freight elevator and she replied, "In the morning, I'm going to be helping Rosalee with the triplets and Kelly for a few hours, but then yeah, we can go for a run, do some sparring."

Nick smiled and said, "I was already planning on going there to see Kelly in the morning, myself. We can make a day of it"

---

Charles Spencer checked the time. It was late. Again. Another night with no sighting of his target. He wasn't tired yet, but knew he'd have to get moving soon if he was going to find a place to sleep.

He stood up from the bench and began walking aimlessly through the park, keeping an eye on the nearby road as he did so.

Spencer loved this time of night. The air was cool against his skin, the streets and sidewalks had very few people on them. All too often, this was the best time to spot vermin. He shook his head, no searching for random vermin tonight. He has a target and if he has any chance of getting to her, he needed to stay focused.

Finally, he heard an engine. That didn't necessarily mean anything, though. Even at this time of night random vehicles drive up and down the road. Nonetheless, he changed his focus. Searching for the source of the sound.

Yes! It's her. From watching her on different nights he was already fairly certain which way she'd go, but he always lost her eventually. This time, he was going to try to get ahead of her. Find out where she goes this late at night. What she does. As fast as he may be, he's still on foot and she isn't. If he ran ahead of where he knew she'd be, then maybe he'd be able to tail her the rest of the way to wherever it is she's going. There was one thing in particular that he needed to go his way. A nearby traffic light. If she got to that light and it was green, he'd lose her again for sure. But, if it's red, then maybe he'd be able to keep up with her.

He ran as fast as his legs would take him. Faster than any normal person can run. He sprinted in alleyways, staying in the shadows. Navigating around security cameras he'd already mapped out in his mind. He made a turn and stopped. In the distance, he could see the traffic light he needed. It was currently green. That's good. But would it stay green until she got there? He began walking, fast, but not so fast that he'd be noticed. He had his hoodie up. If she saw him she'd think he was just some random person who was up late at night. No big deal.

The sound of her engine caught up with him. He began mumbling to himself, "Turn red, come on. At least turn yellow. Yes!" The light changed to yellow and he picked up his pace. Then it was red. He knew she was going to turn at this intersection but in the past he'd normally lost her beyond this point. This time he was ahead of her so he turned the corner and as soon as he knew he was out of sight, he sprinted again. Going as far as he could remember seeing her in past attempts. Then he hid.

He stood behind a large van parked on the street. She'd never see him there. He risked a glance around the body of the van in an attempt to verify that she was coming the way he'd predicted. She had. He ducked back behind the van again... .but in the half second it took to do that, he saw something he didn't expect. On a street corner less than a block away. Did he just see a Hässlich? Why was a troll standing on a street corner? Did he pass the Hässlich without realizing it? That's sloppy. He reminded himself, there is already a target. Forget the stupid troll. Maybe try to come back for it later.

The sound of the engine was nearly on top of him, but he risked another glance at the street corner, only to find no one was there.

His target zipped past him, making no notice whatsoever. Spencer began sprinting again. He did his best to utilize any shadows that were painting the streets and sidewalks. He took short cuts over fences and bushes, cutting through yards. He didn't have to keep her in sight. He could simply rely on the sound of her engine.

That is, until it suddenly cut off. He stopped and turned back in the direction of where she likely had parked. Luckily, he saw her before she saw him. She was on foot! Walking away from his direction. This could still work then. It appeared he had the element of surprise and he intended to keep it that way.

She wound her way around some sort of unmarked brick building that was covered in ivy. The building appeared to be industrial, but from the outside, it was unremarkable in every way. She approached a door but then stopped a few feet away. After a short pause, she turned back around and walked away into a wooded area. About twenty-odd yards in, she stopped. She stood motionless for a few moments. Did she know he was watching her? He moved silently in her direction. Using the trees and shadows to conceal himself, he carefully moved forward. This wasn't the ideal place to make his presence known, but if she already knew he was there, he may as well risk it.

And then, he heard her talking. At first he couldn't make out what she saying. He stood behind a tree, steadied his breath and concentrated on hearing her words.

"...I guess that makes you my grandmother. If you'd asked me five years ago if I thought I'd have a family or even if I thought I would live this long..." She left the thought unfinished, "I just thought you should know he's changed my life and you should be proud of him. I'm going to do everything I can to live up to the name. Our name."

What in the hell was she going on about? Who was she talking to? He couldn't tell if she was on a comm-link or just talking to herself or praying or something else entirely. He stayed back to see what she was going to do next.

She turned around and returned back the way she had come. Back to the brick building, but this time, she opened the door and went inside. Before the door could close, Charles Spencer slipped in behind her.

---

Trubel was exhausted. After being on the road for roughly fourteen hours, she still had to get on her motorcycle and drive herself back to HW. She probably could have just stayed at Nick's loft, but she hadn't checked in with her superiors in over a day as it was. Her laptop was at HW headquarters. She could log onto it, make sure there wasn't anything that needed her immediate attention and then sleep in her own bed.

There was always a risk when driving while sleepy and even more so when doing it on a motorcycle. So, she was very careful to keep her speed down and her focus on the road. When she finally got to what she halfheartedly referred to as 'home,' she parked her motorcycle about a block from HW and walked the remainder of the way. She could barely keep her eyes open. The cool night air against her skin helped a bit.

She could feel the corners of the adoption certificate in the inside pocket of her jacket poking into her chest with every other step. Just as she got within a few feet of the door to HW headquarters, the paper poked her one more time. She stopped, paused for a moment and then turned to walk into the woods. To an area that HW had used as an unofficial burial site. Too many lives had been lost fighting Black Claw, many of which were buried in unmarked graves in the nearby forest. But there was one person buried there who had, instead, lost her life to the Royals. And to Juliette.

Trubel stopped at the spot that she believed was Kelly Burkhardt's grave. It was difficult to be certain. It was dark, but the light of the moon helped guide the way. She took a breath and said, "I just thought I should let you know that it worked. It took nearly five hundred miles, but for the time being, they can be out in public."

She removed the certificate from her pocket and said, "And Nick gave me this today. I'm officially his daughter." She put the certificate back in her pocket, "It's strange, you know. He's the same Nick. I know I don't have to treat him any differently just because we signed some papers, but that's not how it feels. It's not that I feel like I owe him anything. He doesn't make people feel that way. He makes me feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be. Like, wherever he is...that's home... if that makes sense."

This wasn't the first time she'd gone into the forest to talk to Kelly Burkhardt. On one hand, it felt silly, on the other hand, it gave her a small amount of catharsis whenever she did it. Trubel took another breath and then said, "He's given me a home and a family, and now... he's my dad... I guess that makes you my grandmother. If you'd asked me five years ago if I thought I'd have a family or even if I thought I would live this long..." She left the thought unfinished, "I just thought you should know he's changed my life and you should be proud of him. I'm going to do everything I can to live up to his name. Our name."

She turned around and returned back the way she came, to the brick building, but this time, she opened the door and went inside.

After entering the door, she walked down a short hallway with dim lighting. The hallway ended at elevator doors. To call the elevator though, required passing security. On the wall, there was a security plate that she pressed her thumb on. The plate scanned her thumb. Once it verified that she was authorized, a panel slid open above the thumb plate. Behind the panel was a retinal scanner. Trubel leaned in so the device could scan her eye and finally allow access, but before the scan was completed, she felt the back of her head being grabbed by her hair. She was pulled back violently, before she could react, the motion had reversed and her face slammed into the wall, once, twice, and a third time.

She fell onto the ground dazed. The dim lights overhead cast an eerie silhouette behind her attacker. She gathered her senses as best she could. She put her palms on the ground and spun herself around in an attempt to sweep the legs of whoever it was that had followed her into HW headquarters, but the sweeping motion was dodged with ease. Her attacker punched her mercilessly in the face. Three times? Five times? She wasn't sure. Her nose was bleeding and her eyes were watering. She attempted once again to stand up. She made it to her feet and saw that her attacker had retreated somewhat, standing back at the entrance to the hall.

He said, "So, you're the other Grimm in Portland. You're a difficult person to track down. What is this place?"

Trubel wiped at her face and eyes, "Who are you?"

He laughed. A cold hard laugh that had no humor behind it at all. "Who do you think?"

Trubel had known but had wanted to be wrong, "Spencer."

"Ding, ding, ding. Give the lady a prize!"

Trubel's vision was beginning to clear up. She was feeling dizzy from the blows to the head, but she was feeling better by the second. She tried to buy some time, "What do you want?"

She couldn't see his face, but she could hear his sadistic smile as he said, "Oh, a little of this and a little of that." He paused for a moment and when he spoke again, the pretense of being friendly had gone, "I need to know how he brainwashed you. Your bodycount was nowhere near as high as mine, but I checked it out from time to time. You were doing your fair share of eliminating vermin. What happened?"

Trubel knew what he was trying to say, but it was nonsense, "I killed Black Claw agents. I don't kill civilians. I don't hurt innocent people."

Spencer scoffed, "Civilians? What civilians? They're all part of the war. Even if HW is stupid enough to think that Black Claw is gone, there's still the mission."

Trubel tensed the muscles in her legs and arms. Nothing felt injured. She intended to keep it that way. She asked, "What's the mission? To kill Wesen that wouldn't hurt a fly? Does that make you feel like a big man?"

"Trying to dig into my fragile male ego? I'm not stupid," Spencer replied. "You're a Grimm. You have a sacred responsibility to take out as much of that vermin as-."

Trubel interrupted him, "You're insane."

Spencer laughed a low laugh, as though he'd heard that accusation before, "I was hoping that the three of us would team up. That maybe you and I could have gone on the road together. But you're friends with Burkhardt the traitor, so I have to assume you're a traitor, too."

Trubel's head had finally stopped pounding, her nose still hurt, but seemed to have stopped bleeding. She said loudly, "If you knew that me and Burkhardt were a lost cause why did you stick around?"

Trubel couldn't see it, but Spencer smiled broadly, though she could hear the change in his voice as he said, "Oh, I've made me some plans this weekend. But once the festivities are over, I'm outta this hellhole. Maybe, I'll find Burkhardt's hospital room before I leave though. He off life-support yet?"

This time, it was Trubel that smiled. "Oh yeah, he's off life-support, alright."

Spencer's smile vanished, he tilted his head, "What's that suppose-"

He stopped mid-sentence, he'd heard something from behind him. Trubel waited for her opening and the moment he turned his head in the direction of whatever it was he heard, she rushed at him. His distraction had cost him, but not much. She managed to land a couple of punches, but he ducked and dodged and blocked every other attempt she made. He could still sense something she couldn't though. He periodically turned his head towards the door as if at any moment he was expecting someone else to come through it.

After blocking a couple more of her punches, she attempted a round house kick at his face and he caught her ankle easily in his hand. He quickly placed his free hand on it and with both hands, he twisted her foot viciously, so hard that the boot she was wearing had come off. She fell back on the ground, if her ankle wasn't fully broken, it was certainly severely sprained. Her knee and hip had felt much of the explosive movement as well.

She attempted to roll over to defend herself against whatever attack Spencer was planning next, but he wasn't even looking at her. The door they'd entered from was a solid steel door with no windows. He had his ear pressed up against it. Spencer obviously thought that someone or some thing was outside. Trubel hobbled up onto her good leg. She attempted to put some weight onto her bad leg and the pain was excruciating, however, she could stand. It wasn't the most graceful of movements as Trubel launched herself off her good leg and crashed her body into Spencer's, knocking them both through the exit. They crashed to the ground. Trubel's knees collided into the platform in front of the door.

As soon as she obtained her bearings she looked around and finally found out what it was that Spencer had heard. There were four Trolls, all Woged, standing around them. Hässlichs. Trubel had fought Trolls before. But she could barely stand. She knew if she didn't get out of there to leave the trolls to deal with Spencer, she'd be dead within minutes.

The four trolls pulled out their weapons. The blades slid into place and locked. She'd heard of Reapers and their weapon of choice, scythes, but had never had to deal with one before.

The shortest among the four pointed at her and said, "You shall come to no harm from us." He turned to look at one of his cohorts and said, "Get her to safety and return."

Spencer wasn't going to allow these trolls to let her get away, he began to stand up but before he could get to his feet, two of the trolls performed standing kicks in unison. The blows hit Sanders square in his chest, knocking him back, but he rolled backwards with the force and was on his feet within seconds.

Trubel began hobbling towards where she knew she had parked her motorcycle. She was surprised but grateful when one of the trolls grabbed her and put one of her arms over his shoulder. He helped her walk the block and as soon as she had her hands on the motorcycle he turned around and rushed back to his troll partners. He said nothing and didn't look back as he ran.

Trubel wasn't going to argue. She carefully put her leg over the seat, started the engine and attempted to put it into gear. But to do that required her foot, which hurt like hell. She closed her eyes, clenched her jaw and did her best to ignore the pain. She found that once the motorcycle was on the road the pain wasn't so terrible to shift. There was still the decision of where to go. She could go to Nick, he needed to know what was happening and maybe he could heal her leg with the Staff. But for all she knew the Staff didn't even work anymore after the wedding, so maybe the hospital would be the best bet? She could call Nick from there. She decided to split the decision down the middle. She stopped and parked her motorcycle in the first parking lot she could find, then took out her phone and called Nick.

She explained everything that had just happened. Nick told her to go to the hospital and he would meet her there with the Staff. If it didn't work, then they'd go into the ER. Trubel's hands were shaking. The adrenaline that had been pumping through her veins was starting to wear off. She needed to get to the hospital before the pain became unmanageable.

---

Spencer had heard of Reapers, but had never faced off against any before. After being kicked in the chest by two of them in unison though, he knew that he couldn't fight them on their terms if he had any hopes of surviving the encounter. When one of them had run off with his target, he decided to follow suit and also run, though in the opposite direction, into the woods.

The three trolls halted in their tracks, without speaking a word one signaled to the others. He intended to stay behind until the fourth Hässlich returned from aiding the Grimm. Two would have to pursue for now.

It was exactly as Spencer had hoped. Separating them was strategically the best option. He waited in the shadows. The two trolls weren't as stupid as he'd hoped though. As they reached the tree line, they both had stopped running and walked side by side slowly, scanning the surroundings as they went deeper in the wooded area. He'd have to somehow take out one, or hopefully both of them, before the other two joined them. There wouldn't be much time. He crouched down and felt on the ground for something, anything. He found what he believed to be a pine cone. He stood up and threw the pine cone over the heads of the trolls. It hit the ground with a barely audible thump. Again, the trolls weren't stupid. Only one faced the direction of the sound, the other faced the opposite direction to scan their surroundings. It looked like Spencer wasn't going to be able to be stealthy about this, so instead, he chose to be fast.

He sprinted out from the shadows towards the trolls, he was seen almost immediately. The troll attempted to swing his scythe but Spencer performed a baseball slide feet first. The scythe passed harmlessly over his head as his feet connected with the troll's shin, knocking him backward into his partner. Their feet tangled awkwardly together and they fell onto the soft forest floor. This was exactly what Spencer needed. He stood up, stepped to the closest troll and stomped as hard and as viciously as he could onto the troll's knee. The scream of pain echoed throughout the forest. Spencer had to act fast, there's no way that hadn't been heard by his partners. The other troll that had been knocked to the ground was already getting to his feet before Spencer could act. Rather than risk another frontal assault he ran back into the shadows. The troll stepped over his partner who was rocking back on forth on the ground holding his leg.

Spencer waited, he could hear the last two trolls running into the forest. He'd only been able to neutralize one of them. He was disappointed in himself. He knew he could move quietly and he could see somewhat in the dark thanks to the moon, but there were still too many shadows and dark areas. Helpful for hiding, but made it possible he could accidentally step on a twig and alert the others to his whereabouts.

Then, what he'd been waiting for finally happened. The three remaining trolls split up to cover more ground. He sat motionless in the shadows, patiently waiting for one of them to come anywhere near him. A couple minutes ticked by and he began to wonder if he'd be sitting there until dawn, when finally a troll came near his hiding spot. Again, it was clear these trolls were good at what they did. They refused to go near the shadows, staying in the areas lit by the moon. As soon as the troll turned away from Spencer, he risked being seen as he shot out of shadows, wrapping one arm around the troll's neck and using his free hand to cover the troll's mouth and nose.

As he dragged the troll back into the shadows he squeezed his arm tighter and tighter across the troll's neck, cutting off the circulation to his brain. It was only moments until the Troll finally lost consciousness, but Spencer kept his grip. A slow suffocation was quiet. When he was certain the troll was dead, he finally released his grasp.

He felt around for the scythe the troll had been carrying but felt nothing. He just barely caught the glint of the blade sticking out from the weeds on the ground. The troll's body would stay hidden in the shadows, but if one of the others saw the scythe laying on the ground they'd know that one of their own had been taken out.

He decided to risk being seen again, but this time he crept out of the shadows slowly. This was a mistake. He heard the leaves and weeds rustling before he saw the troll and only just barely dodged the blade of his scythe. He rolled and picked up the scythe from his previous kill and stood to face his new opponent. The situation wasn't good. He had trees and bushes that would tangle him up if he moved too far in one direction and his opponent knew it. They stood motionless for a moment, waiting for the other to make the first move. Spencer had never fought with a scythe before. He slid his hands down the grip, trying to find the best balance. That was all the troll needed to bound forward, arching the blade in a swift ax handled strike. Spencer got the handle of his scythe up just in time to stop a fatal blow, but the blade cut him square on his forehead. The blood began to run down his face. Luckily, it was running down over his nose and avoiding his eyes for the time being.

He used all his strength to push the Troll's blade to the side, throwing the troll off balance. It was all Spencer needed to make the killing blow, but as he swung his blade back, the handle of another scythe hooked behind the blade and yanked the handle out of Spencer's hands. The final troll had arrived. Spencer squared off. He was going up against two trolls with scythes while he was completely unarmed. He made the decision to allow them to flank him.

He stepped forward, keeping himself close to at least one of the trolls at all times. If one of the trolls attempted to use their scythe they would be forced to risk slicing into their own teammate. That, however, didn't stop them from using the handles as weapons. Each troll attempted to strike Spencer. At first, he deftly blocked or dodged each strike. Punches, kicks, and strikes with the scythe handles, at last, a troll managed to strike the back of his leg when he was busy avoiding the punch of the other troll. He fell down to one knee as a scythe sliced through the air. He ducked just in time. The troll over extended and lost his balance, Spencer grabbed his leg, pulling and twisting it violently sending him crashing into his teammate.

This time he moved more quickly as he stomped on the knee of one and then the other, likely breaking a leg of each troll. They both howled in agony, clutching their respective broken legs. Spencer picked up one of the scythes they'd each dropped and without saying a word or wasting a single movement, he removed the heads of each man in two swift swings of the blade.

He wiped at the blood on his face. The bleeding seemed to have stopped but the wound still stung with his own sweat. There was only one last thing to do. He made his way back to where he'd left the final piece of filth. The troll had made his way onto one leg and was attempting to hop out of the woods, but Spencer was able to catch up to him by simply walking at a brisk pace. When he was close enough he said, "Four trolls couldn't finish me off." The troll was surprised and caught off guard, he stumbled and fell to the ground again, crying out in pain. Spencer continued casually, "I really like the scythe. It's not the best of weapons, I guess you guys use it for symbolic reasons rather than practicality. Who knows, if you'd chosen better weapons, like guns maybe, perhaps I'd be the one dead right now. Probably not, but maybe. To be fair, I usually use whatever's laying around. I've used sticks, broken beer bottles, even my teeth when I'm desperate. You guys come here with these awkward to use... 'scythes,' am I saying that right? You can't help but to wonder why people are scared of you."

The troll lay on the ground in incredible pain. He kept trying to drag himself along the ground but each movement was pure agony on his leg. He said, "I won't-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Spencer swung the scythe and removed the man's head. To no one at all he said, "You know what, maybe they're better weapons than I thought. Maybe I'll keep this one."

Chapter 16

When Nick pulled up to the emergency room entrance, Trubel was already there waiting for him. He was angry at himself for having not captured Spencer when he had the chance and also for not keeping Trubel with him at his loft. She would have been safer there.

He got out of his SUV and saw that Trubel's bad leg was using the motorcycle for support while her good leg was on the ground keeping her standing. Her face was bruised and swollen in several places. He opened the back hatch of the SUV and pulled out the Staff. He said, "This is the first time I've held it since the wedding. I was afraid to touch it. I didn't know what, if anything, would happen." Trubel nearly lost her balance. She was leaning forward, her brow was covered in droplets of sweat even though the air was cool. She was clearly in a tremendous amount of pain. Nick decided it was best to shut up and get on with healing her if he was able to. So he stepped forward, holding the Staff in both his hands, hoping that no one was watching, he pressed it against the back of her hand that was holding the handle of her motorcycle and he waited.

Ten seconds ticked by, then twenty. He looked up at her, "Anything?"

With her eyes closed, breathing heavily through her mouth, she slowly shook her head, "I don't feel anything different."

They stood in silence for another minute. Nick didn't think it mattered but he gripped the Staff in his hands a bit tighter, trying to will it with his mind to heal her. But still, there was no sign of any changes. Nick finally gave up and said, "Okay, let's get you inside."

He stashed the Staff back in his SUV then walked back over to her, put her arm over his shoulders and helped her inside the hospital. He was angry he couldn't help her, but also relieved that whatever was wrong didn't appear, at first glance, to be life threatening.

Unlike the last time Trubel had needed emergency medical care, this time, she had a medical insurance card with her. It wasn't her real name, but she had the fake ID to go with it. They lied and said she'd had an accident with her motorcycle. After examinations, testing, scans and X-rays doctors informed them her ankle was broken and she also had a concussion. As much as her knee and hip hurt, the doctors determined there were no breaks and that the pain was superficial.

While the doctors performed their tests, Nick sat in the waiting area texting everyone in his inner circle what had happened to Trubel and warned them to be on guard in case Spencer had any intention of tracking any of them down. He called Adalind, it was after Three AM and he didn't expect her to answer but after several rings she picked up and it was obvious he had woken her.

Nick said, "I'm so sorry I woke you, but I wanted to let you know that Trubel was attacked by Spencer, she'll live but we're in the hospital now."

Before Nick could finish his sentence he was confused when he heard what sounded like heavy breathing from Adalind. He was about to ask what she was doing when he had to yank the phone away from his year. Adalind had let out a painfully loud banshee-like scream in anger. For what little good it had done, she had foresight enough to block the scream with her pillow. Vehicles parked in the lot outside her hotel room began blaring their car alarms. The lights of the neighboring rooms lit up as tenants peered out their windows to see what could have made the terrifying noise.

When Adalind raised her head from the pillow she saw that it was completely ruined. Burned and shredded all the way through. She'd have to throw it away in the morning. She looked at her hands and saw that she'd Woged. It took some effort but she was able to calm herself and return to her typical appearance. She looked at her phone and saw that the screen had cracked from her scream. She Woged again in anger, lifting her arm, intending to throw her phone at the wall. She just managed to stop herself by taking a deep breath. She returned to her typical appearance again, brought the phone back to her ear and said, "Nick, can you hear me? I seem to have broken my phone."

He'd been holding the phone away from his ear but heard her ask for him. He replied, "Yes, are you okay?"

Her anger was getting the better of her again, but she focused on the sound of Nick's voice. She took another breath and said, "I'm just upset that Trubel was hurt and that I'm stuck down here and can't help. Someone is attacking our family, Nick."

Nick nodded and smiled a little as he said, "I'll let Trubel know you said that."

Adalind, confused, asked, "Said what?"

In a tone that implied it was obvious, Nick replied, "That you called her family."

Adalind knew she had said it, but hadn't realized the significance of her words at the time. Nick told Adalind that he'd already received the adoption certificate and had gifted it to Trubel earlier that evening. He thanked her again for giving him such an incredibly precious gift. Before hanging up they told each other, "I love you," and then Adalind did her best to return to sleep. Though it took a while.

By the time the sun began to rise, Trubel was having a cast put on her ankle. She patiently sat through doctors advising her of things that likely weren't relevant to her. Like how long it would take for her to heal and actions to avoid over the next several weeks. Regardless, she knew she would be out of action at least for a short while. Nick insisted that she not return to her bunker and that she instead sleep at his place until the Spencer situation was resolved one way or another and that she could walk properly without crutches.

She didn't like being dependent on anyone else, but she respected his wishes and didn't argue. She knew that, adoption certificate or not, this was the protective nature of Nick, and it's why she loved him.

When the hospital released her, Nick drove her back to the loft, put her in bed and when she had fallen asleep, he left and drove himself to Rosalee's. It had been too long since he'd seen his son Kelly and there was no sense in sitting around doing nothing while Trubel slept with the aid of the pain meds the doctors had given her.

When he arrived he let himself in and found that Rosalee had been doing her best to prepare food for the four children. Nick stepped in and helped her with feeding them while he caught her up with what had happened since he'd texted her about Trubel's fight with Spencer. Monroe had already left to run the spice shop for the day.

Rosalee asked Nick, "What can you do about this guy?"

Nick was bouncing his son in his arms making Kelly giggle. Without looking up he said, "I have no idea. If I knew where he was at right now I wouldn't be here. I'd be going after him. It's possible that he may no longer be a problem. I'm still awaiting word."

Rosalee didn't understand, "How would he no longer be a problem?"

Nick explained the plan he'd arranged through Renard and that Trubel told him she'd been rescued by four reapers.

Rosalee continued feeding her triplets, though it was a task easier said than done. Not to mention messy. She shook her head and said, "You know, Nick, I keep thinking that I'm done being surprised by you and then you casually tell me that Reapers rescued the life of a Grimm as though it was a typical Thursday. I know they didn't do it out of the goodness of their hearts, but still... it's unheard of so far as I know."

Nick replied, "Well, I haven't heard from Renard yet, so I have to assume he hasn't heard from the Reapers yet, so that makes me think things didn't go so well for them."

"You think they're dead?" Rosalee wondered aloud.

Nick shrugged, "Doesn't matter. I'm going to continue to operate as though there are no Reapers in Portland. If they notify Renard that they did their job, great. But if the opportunity presents itself, I'm going after Spencer myself."

Rosalee grabbed a babywipe and started cleaning off her sons' hands and faces. When she was done she stood up and stretched out her back.

Nick saw that she was feeling pretty tired and said, "You know, you can go take a nap or a shower or go for a run or whatever might help recharge your batteries. I'm happy to watch the triplets for a while."

Rosalee gave this some thought and said, "You're sweet, Nick, but you know you should be getting back to Trubel. I can keep watching Kelly."

Nick knew she was right, Trubel was very independent. Sometimes, too much so. She could easily hurt herself if she tried to do too much after breaking her ankle. He put Kelly back in his highchair and said, "I really appreciate what you and Monroe are doing for me and Adalind."

Rosalee waived away his gratitude. "Don't worry about it. You're still feeling okay since Adalind drove however many miles?"

Nick nodded, "Yeah. I still feel different. Like, I haven't slept since yesterday but I feel like I don't need to."

Rosalee began cleaning up the dishes and plates to get them to the sink and Nick picked up the things she didn't. She asked, "I think I'm most curious about the, 'shimmer.' Do you still see it?"

Nick reached out to touch Rosalee's face but stopped about half an inch short and said, "This is where the shimmer is sitting. It's dim, but it's there. Covers your whole body."

Rosalee instinctively reached up and touched her own face and asked, "You can see this on all Wesen?"

Nick grabbed a wipe and began cleaning Kelly's face and hands and said, "I think so. Hard to verify."

Rosalee narrowed her eyes and asked, "So what happens to it when we Woge?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't know. Give it a try."

Rosalee rocked her head back and forth into a Woge, revealing her Fox like Wesen appearance. If Nick hadn't been staring straight at her, he wouldn't have seen how the blue shimmer quickly entered Rosalee's body. Like she had somehow vacuumed the shimmer into herself in the blink of an eye to form the Wesen appearance she was currently holding.

He explained to her what he had witnessed as she shook herself back into her typical appearance. She said, "Well, your eyes still turn to the blackest of blacks. So, that hasn't changed. Sounds like the other rules have changed though. I'm just glad you're the Grimm who got the ability and not someone like Spencer."

Nick kissed his son on the top of his head and said, "Okay, I'm gonna head out and check on Trubel. Get her some food." He joked, "I'm sure she's wasting away as we speak."

As Rosalee walked him to the door she said, "Oh hey, have you checked in with Sam? Monroe had been telling me about her. He told me she's been really worried about you."

Nick shook his head. He hadn't been expecting to hear anything about Sam. "Is she okay?"

Rosalee was surprised but not shocked that Nick hadn't bothered to thank Sam for going with Adalind on their roadtrip. She playfully swatted Nick on the shoulder and said, "Just give her a call. Thank her for going with Trubel and Adalind on the roadtrip. Her brother's funeral is tomorrow, you know. She's been doing a lot by herself." Her tone wasn't accusatory, but it was clear she was implying that her or Monroe would have been glad to help Sam but they couldn't because of all the mayhem that had been going on because of Nick and Adalind's health crisis.

Nick's face changed to an expression of guilt as he nodded, "I'll call her while I'm on the road. Thanks for letting me know."

---

When Spencer had woken up that morning, he felt filthy. This was the true downside of living his lifestyle. Rarely getting to shower. He found a public drinking fountain and used it to get the worst of the grime and some left over dried blood off his face. After he'd wet his hands and ran them through his hair, he threw up his hood, grabbed his newly acquired scythe and began walking. He kept off of normal public areas. Navigating wooded terrain, creeks and alleyways as he made his way to his next appointment to eliminate vermin. It wasn't until tomorrow, but it was a long walk and he wanted to get more sleep before the event began. After this, he was leaving Portland for good.

He thought back to what the female Grimm had said to him about the traitor Grimm, 'Oh yeah, he's off life-support alright.' That concerned him. It wasn't so much her words as the way she said it. Maybe he hadn't done as much damage as he thought he had. But he felt the traitor's ribs breaking with a few of the kicks that had landed. Grimms do heal faster than average. But healing from broken ribs? Maybe she had been lying, trying to distract him. If those Reapers hadn't shown up when they did he'd likely have gotten all the answers to his questions. He chided himself for not finding out why there were four Reapers there to kill him and why they'd rescued the female Grimm. None of it made sense. Even a traitor Grimm couldn't negotiate aid from Reapers. It's nonsense. What could a Grimm even have that would elicit the aid of not just one, but four Reapers? Not money. Reapers like to be paid, but they get paid to kill Grimms, not protect them.

He decided that the knowledge of the how and why still wasn't worth staying in Portland longer than he had to. He'd made waves that he was sure were being noticed by dangerous people. Maybe it was Hadrian's Wall that had sent the Reapers. Do they have those kinds of connections? As he thought about it, that made much more sense than the traitor Grimm having that kind of pull. It also possibly explained why they protected the female Grimm. Maybe when he'd left Portland he could get answers after all by pursuing HW agents.

---

Even though both Elizabeth and Monroe had gone through the Hexenbiest books, Eve was going through them again. Even if she didn't find what she was looking for to help Nick and Adalind she could still learn a thing or two. Elizabeth hadn't given up, but she said there was no further need for her to be at the Spice Shop and wanted to spend time with her granddaughter while she waited to hear back from her contacts in Europe.

Monroe had been sweeping and cleaning up as the end of day was approaching. He was looking forward to getting home and relaxing with his wife and sons. Eve slammed down the heavy book she had been reading. She walked into the shop area and asked Monroe, "It's safe to assume there's no news from Elizabeth or anyone else for that matter?"

Monroe nodded, "Very safe. We've hit a wall. I've even looked over some texts we have in our own collection to see if there's something we can do to better alleviate Nick and Adalind's symptoms, but I can't find anything."

Eve checked her phone and saw no new messages and said, "You think it's time to ask HW?"

Monroe began counting out the cash register and said, "I do, but it's Nick's call. He wanted to wait until Elizabeth ran out of options. Do you think HW actually has old books laying around that could help?"

Eve shrugged, "Hard to say. It's a very compartmentalized organization. They don't tell me everything."

Monroe picked up his phone and held it up to show it briefly before sitting back down again as he said, "My phone has been blowing up from people who were at the wedding wanting to know if Nick is any better."

Eve asked, "What about Trubel?"

Monroe nodded, "Nick did text me that she slept most of the day. The meds they have her on are pretty potent."

Eve began walking aimlessly around the store, "I notified HW that Spencer is back in Portland and that it's possible he never even left. They said they're going to analyze the situation and get back to me."

Monroe scoffed, "Which basically means they don't know what to do."

Eve couldn't look at Monroe when she responded, "I don't know what to do either. He's nearly killed me twice. I think if we knew where he was going, maybe we could head him off, set a trap. But he's aimless. He wanders with no sense of purpose. At least not one that I can determine."

It was silent for a moment when the door to the shop suddenly opened and Elizabeth walked in, she didn't bother closing the door behind her as she strode up to the counter and handed Monroe a piece of paper, "I need every ingredient on that list."

Monroe scanned it, nodding as he mentally tallied the items on the list that he knew were already in the store, a few he'd have to order and then he saw a few items he'd heard of but had never seen before. He took a pen and marked them off, "I have no idea where to get these. Aren't they Chinese?"

Elizabeth corrected him, "Well, certain parts of East Asia, but yes, they can be found in China as well."

Monroe raised an eyebrow, "Did you finally hear back from your contacts in Europe?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "I reached out to some... well, let's just say acquaintances, in Vietnam. Eastern Asia hadn't been involved in the Hexen Wars, so while they adhere to the spirit of our laws, they were willing to bend the rules to get us what we need to possibly cure Nick and Adalind."

Monroe asked, "Still just possibly, huh?"

Elizabeth shrugged and said, "I think that's as good as it's going to get."

Monroe grabbed a pen and wrote down the things he might have trouble getting and handed it to Eve, "I'll order what I know I can and ask around about the few things I can't. In case I don't have any success though, you should try your contacts. Maybe HW can help out. They won't have to know what it's for."

Eve nodded a single time, folded up the paper and walked out the door Elizabeth had come through. Elizabeth watched her leave, turned to Monroe and said, "Speaking of China, have you ever played Chinese Checkers?"

Monroe narrowed his eyes and said, "Not since I was a kid. Why?"

Elizabeth lowered her voice even though it was just her and Monroe in the shop as she said, "It's a good analogy for what I think happened with Adalind and Eve. Or rather, Juliette."

Monroe closed one eye as he concentrated, attempting to unravel Elizabeth's words but then finally shrugged and said, "I don't get it."

"The point of the game is to navigate your pieces around your opponents pieces, the first to settle all their pieces in their opponent's starting point wins."

Monroe shook his head, "I still don't get it."

Elizabeth sighed and said, "I'm hoping I'm wrong, or that even if I'm right, there won't be any long term ramifications. But it's my belief that, based on the spells that Adalind cast, and that we cast, and then the unexpected twist of Adalind becoming pregnant with Nick's child, there was an emotional exchange between Adalind and Juliette."

Monroe squinted as he said, "Emotional exchange..."

Elizabeth looked back out the door to make sure there wasn't anyone that could overhear her, then she turned back to Monroe and said, "Adalind despised Nick. Juliette Loved Nick. Then Juliette despised Nick and Adalind loved Nick. None of it happened all at once. It was all in bits and pieces. Like Chinese Checkers."

Monroe's eyes widened, "Wait, you mean that the way Adalind feels about Nick is really Juliette's emotions having kinda leached their way into her mind?"

Elizabeth nodded, "Maybe."

Monroe's energy began to build up. He began speaking faster, "Well, do you think we should tell Nick? I mean this is kinda huge, isn't it? If my wife's love for me was someone else's love I think I'd want to know. Maybe. God, this is so confusing. I don't even know what the right thing to do here is."

Elizabeth put her hand on Monroe's hands and said, "I'm only telling you this because it's possible that after we perform this power reversal it may unravel some of their emotions towards each other. Maybe it will happen right away or maybe it will happen in bits and pieces over the course of weeks. Or maybe nothing will happen. I just felt that after I leave, someone in your circle should know."

Monroe pinched the bridge of his nose as though he'd gotten a headache in the last three seconds, "I don't want it to sound like I'm ungrateful, it's just a lot to take in."

Elizabeth asked him, "Do you think that Adalind has changed a lot?"

Monroe laughed, "A lot? Try completely. But her emotions seem so genuine."

Elizabeth put her palm out, "Oh, they are genuine, they just might not be hers. And if they're not, Adalind would have no idea."

She began walking towards the door to leave, "Maybe the love she has for Nick is her own, and after we power them down, they'll live happily ever after. Just be prepared is all I'm saying." Then she walked out and closed the door behind her.

---

When Nick had returned to the his loft, Trubel was still lying on the bed. The sound of the freight elevator had woken her up long enough for her to acknowledge his return but she fell back to sleep shortly after. Nick had thought about cooking something for her to eat but decided it was best to let her continue to rest rather than bang pots and pans in the kitchen area.

He went to his bedroom, took out his phone and checked his messages and saw that Hank had been trying to reach him. He texted back and made arrangements to meet for dinner. It hadn't occurred to him when he invested in the loft that the freight elevator would disrupt the sleep of someone recovering from serious injuries and felt bad about using it again to get back down to his SUV.

At the restaurant Hank and Nick had decided to meet up at, Nick was glad to see that Hank had chosen an out of the way seat so they could talk more openly without fear of being overheard.

Nick sat down across from Hank and they briefly discussed Trubel and her recovery. Hank asked, "How in the world did she manage to make it to the hospital riding a motorcycle on a broken ankle?"

Nick replied, "She said the most painful part was getting in motion, but once she was on the road the pain was manageable, at least until the adrenaline started to wear off. By the time she got there, she couldn't put any weight on it at all."

Hank had extrapolated that the four Trolls that had intervened had been the four men he'd seen meeting with Renard but asked Nick to confirm. All Nick could say was, "Probably."

Hank asked, "I take it no one has heard from the Trolls since?"

Nick shook his head, "Either that means they're still on the hunt or they didn't survive."

Hank said, "Well, I haven't heard any reports of multiple bodies in the past day or so."

"Given the location of Trubel's bunker it's unlikely anyone has been around to discover their bodies, if they're there." Nick leaned back in his chair to stretch his back.

Hank said, "You seem to be feeling pretty good though. Hearing okay? No relapses?"

Nick leaned back in to Hank and said, "I feel fantastic. Like I could run a marathon and I've barely slept since Adalind checked into the hotel. It's almost like I have more energy than I can burn. I was going to go for a run with Trubel today, but then she was attacked..."

Hank slapped a package onto the table and said, "Your wedding gift."

Nick let out a short laugh, "You didn't have to do that. I thought your wedding gift was working with Monroe to invite people to the wedding?"

Hank rocked his head back and forth, signaling, 'sort of,' and said, "That didn't require much effort, going through old reports and finding contact info. This," he gestured to the package, "is a proper present."

Nick slid the package closer to himself, picked it up and shook it to see if he could guess what it was. Then ripped the paper off to find a cardboard box. He pulled off the lid and inside was a leather bound book. He removed it from the box and flipped through the pages to find they were all blank.

"What's this?" Nick asked.

Hank said, "That is a brand spanking new Grimm book. Something you can make all your own. As much as the previous Grimms have written down, some of which were lost in the fire, you have brand new experiences and knowledge that no other Grimm has ever seen or done. Like Wu for example. Adalind had pointed out that we don't have a name for whatever condition he has. Sure, it's kind of a Lycanthropia, but not really. So, now you can name it whatever you want and put it in the book. The Book of Nick."

Nick couldn't help but smirk a little as he thanked Hank for the thoughtful gift, "If we ever figure out how to reverse what's been done to me and Adalind, I'm putting that in here first."

Hank's demeanor changed as he said, "There's something else I have to tell you."

Nick saw that Hank had gotten serious, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay, what's going on?"

Hank looked down at the table and said, "I had to explain to Janelle about you. Grimms and Wesen and everything."

Nick wasn't upset at the news, but he was concerned that perhaps it hadn't gone over very well, so he asked, "Is she okay? Did she believe you?"

Hank looked up at Nick, he had expected a different response, "Oh, yeah, she's fine. I didn't do it by myself. Samantha was there to help fill in some of the blanks and eventually she provided proof. Full Woge."

Nick shrugged it off, "So, she didn't freak out, everything's good?"

Hank said, "I was more worried you'd be upset I told her everything without checking with you first."

Nick shook his head, "Obviously, we can't go shouting this from rooftops, but I trust your judgment. If you feel she needed to know, then she needed to know. Besides, the cat was kinda out of the bag when she saw what happened at our wedding. I don't see how you could have lied your way out of that."

Hank nodded and raised his eyebrows, "That was pretty messed up."

Nick wanted to lighten the mood, so he decided to give Hank a hard time, "So, what's going on with you two? You dating? I know you invited her to the wedding, but you didn't get to have a reception dance. You gonna try again to make an actual date?"

Hank saw what Nick was doing and couldn't help but smile and laugh a little as he said, "I'm not really sure where things are going with her, and yes, I plan to try again, but not right away. I wanted to give her some time to acclimate to how the world really is."

Nick shook his head, "Don't do that. If she processed everything pretty well when you told her about Wesen, don't let the opportunity pass you by. Ask her to dinner or something."

Hank pursed his lips and said, "Fine. I'll call her later today and ask how she is. Good?"

Nick grinned, nodded and said, "Yeah."

Chapter 17

When Nick arrived back at his loft, the freight elevator once again woke Trubel up, but this time, she decided she was done sleeping for now. She grabbed her crutches and made her way to the bathroom. When Nick stepped into the loft he sat a bag down filled with food he'd picked up at the restaurant he had visited with Hank. As Trubel made her way out of the bathroom, Nick pointed at the bag and let her know he'd brought her food. Nick could tell that the pain meds were doing a serious number on her as she took to the food halfheartedly. He asked how she was feeling and she shrugged. He sat down across the counter from her as she picked her way through her dinner. He let her know that, so far, there had been no additional contact with the Reapers since they'd helped her escape. He barely finished saying it to her when she said, "So, they're dead."

Nick shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe."

She shook her head, "No, they're dead. There's no way he would have left there leaving any of them alive."

Nick hesitated. Sitting across from her at the counter felt too much like he was in the interrogation room at the precinct. But he had questions and only she could answer them. He asked her, "Did Spencer say anything to you before or during the attack?"

She dropped a french fry she'd been holding back into the pile and said, "Yeah, he said some stuff. But I think I might have messed up."

Nick, puzzled, asked, "How so?"

She dropped her eyes from him and said, "He asked me if you were off life support yet and I got kinda cocky and I said you were."

Nick didn't care about that at all, "That's fine. All that matters to me is that you're safe now. Did he say anything about where he'd been or where he's going?"

Trubel shook her head, she was disappointed in herself for having lost the fight and for not getting more information that could be helpful to Nick. She said, "All he said was that he had plans this weekend. I think he called them festivities. But after that, he's leaving town."

Nick nodded. It wasn't anything to go on. Spencer might be a sociopath, but he's smart and knows what to say and what not to say. Even if he'd said something specific, it likely would have been a lie anyway. Leaving Portland this weekend might be a lie, too. Trubel began apologizing for not having gotten more but Nick cut her off and said, "In the heat of the moment, you can't take time out to interrogate the man trying to kill you."

Trubel felt some truth in his words, but ever since she'd met him, she'd measured herself against what she thought he would do. She was giving herself a hard time because she felt Nick would have tried to get more information out of Spencer.

Nick decided it was best to change the subject and let her know that Hank had told Janelle Farris about Grimms and Wesen. One more person that Trubel can speak openly about their world if she ever needed to.

She nodded her approval and said, "Good for Hank."

The following morning, Trubel thought to herself it was possible she felt worse this morning than the previous day. Nick warned her this was possible. Her aches and pains caused her to rise slowly from the bed.

Nick had already begun making breakfast for the two of them before she felt motivated enough to lift herself up. She used her crutches to help get her back to the same counter she'd eaten dinner the previous night. When she sat down, Nick slid a plate of bacon and eggs under her nose. Real bacon and eggs, not vegan. Nick was happy to see her devour the breakfast he'd made for her. She may be sore, but her appetite was returning. He felt foolish for not having realized that Trubel had become his makeshift daughter before Adalind had pointed it out to him at his wedding. It also forced him to reevaluate his priorities of keeping his family safe. That, of course, included Trubel, but also Monroe, Rosalee and their triplets and also Bud and his family. He wasn't sure it was possible, but he thought he was feeling even more protective than normal.

He felt the urge to grab his things and go hunting for the Grimm that had nearly killed him and Trubel. All that stopped him was not knowing where to begin looking.

So lost in thought, Nick nearly burned the bacon he had been staring at in his pan. Trubel noticed and asked him about it, but he dismissed it as nothing.

For a while they ate in silence. Trubel looked up from her food occasionally to glance at Nick who seemed to be in an entirely different world. Trubel lost her patience and dropped her fork loudly onto her plate and in a near shout, said, "Nick!"

Nick's eyes widened in surprise, "What?"

Trubel pointed at his head, making circle motions with her hand, "What's going on in there?"

Nick grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth with it. He then took a sip of his orange juice and said, "I'm just trying to figure out where in the world Spencer is going so I could somehow get ahead of him. It's driving me crazy knowing he's out there and could be murdering someone else today, tomorrow, next week. And once he leaves Portland, there won't be anything I can do about him."

Trubel shook her head and said, "Nick, he's not your responsibility. If anything, it's HW's. They dropped the ball with this guy."

Nick stood up and carried his plate to the sink and began rinsing it off. Before the water was even hot, he turned the faucet off and looked over at Trubel, "You said Spencer had plans this weekend."

Trubel didn't know where he was going with his non-question, but nodded her head. He continued, "I think we can rule out the possibility he's visiting friends or family. Most likely he's going to make a new kill. A kill he's been planning for, otherwise, why plan, why wait. His normal pattern is random. Just targeting who he runs across. Other than you and me, apparently. So, what's special about this weekend?"

Trubel recounted in her mind what he'd said to her and said to Nick, "The way he said it, Nick. The 'festivities.' His tone was vile, like he was going above and beyond the norm."

Nick stood silent for a moment and then shook his head. He turned the water back on and began rinsing off his plate again.

Trubel could see the disappointment in Nick's eyes. It was eating him up that he had no idea what to do next. She felt like she was letting him down so she mulled over the night once again in her mind. She asked, "Is it possible he's going to a place he knows will have multiple Wesen?"

Nick turned the water off again and leaned back against the sink, "I thought of that, but that could be anything. A Sunday family dinner. Sunday church. A Saturday family cookout. The possibilities are too endless."

Nick saw Trubel's facial expression change to one of alarm. She said, "Nick, what about a funeral?"

Nick didn't bother to reply, he ran back to his bedroom to put on his shoes and ran back to get in the elevator, when he realized he had no idea where the funeral was going to take place, he stopped. He took out his phone and called Samantha, but it went straight to voicemail. Frustrating, but someone turning off their cell phone at their brother's funeral is to be expected. He paced in front of the elevator as he called Monroe. Before there was an answer though, he canceled the call, deciding instead to go through official channels. He called the ME and asked which funeral home Zachary Gray's body had been shipped to. Once he got what he needed he turned to Trubel, "I need you to text Hank, Wu and Janelle, let them know we need them at this address," he wrote it down for her. "Then I want you to keep trying Samantha's phone. Call her every couple minutes. Look up the number to the funeral home and call them directly and ask for her. Do whatever you can to alert her to the danger. I hope you're wrong about this, but I can't take the chance, I'm heading there now."

Trubel hobbled over to the elevator doors on her crutches and said, "Nick, please, be safe."

Nick nodded, then closed the doors shut and Trubel watched the elevator descend. She couldn't hide the worry she felt. She decided if all she could do was make phone calls, then she'd sit and make phone calls. She was calling Monroe too. Nick probably left his name out on purpose to keep him safe, but Trubel was certain if she didn't call him and something happened to Nick, Monroe would forgive her, but not easily.

---

Samantha despised dressing up. Having done so for a wedding recently at least had the benefit of being for a positive occasion. But today she had to get dressed up for her brother's funeral. She had been feeling conflicting emotions of not having to deal with his funeral, but also getting it over with as quickly as she could. She knew she'd never stop missing him and having the added responsibilities of coordinating the schedules of multiple family members to make the funeral happen just made her feel even worse. She couldn't decide if having it be a closed casket funeral was adding to her emotional distress or not. Seeing the casket at the front of the room with Zachary's picture next to it felt too surreal.

She was happy to see some old friends, though. Both her own, and friends of her brother. As people began filing into the funeral home, the moment she'd been dreading all morning presented itself as her Great Aunt Ruthie came up to her. Aunt Ruthie was very kind, but she had a habit of not letting a subject go until she'd received the answer she wanted. Sam knew Aunt Ruthie was concerned about her being in Portland with no family and few friends. It wouldn't have been surprising if Aunt Ruthie suggested Sam move to a part of the country that did have some family, but Sam was hesitant to give up the house she'd spent much of her youth in.

Aunt Ruthie had worn a black pantsuit. Sam had no doubt it was an outfit she'd worn many times for her work. Even though Aunt Ruthie had long since passed retirement age, she still continued to work as an editor for her local newspaper in Virginia. Somewhat smaller in stature than Sam, one could still see the family resemblance, though Aunt Ruthie's hair had long since grayed.

Sam did her best to keep up with the pleasantries of newly arriving attendees as Aunt Ruthie spoke to her, "Sam, you're looking well. How have you been holding up?"

Sam shrugged and replied, "About as well as can be expected, I guess."

Aunt Ruthie nodded her understanding. She paused for a moment as new guests filed their way past them, but then said what Sam had been expecting, "I"m really concerned for you being all the way out here in Portland with no support. I wouldn't say it's necessary, not in the strictest definition of the word, but it is far more healthy to be surrounded by friends and family who are also Wesen."

Thankfully, Sam had been anticipating her comment and had a response ready, "As a matter of fact, I have very recently made some new Wesen friends who are very kind and very supportive."

Aunt Ruthie looked pleased, "Scharfblickes?"

Sam kicked herself. She didn't think that Aunt Ruthie would care enough to ask about the types of Wesen. She didn't want to lie, but also felt the truth would cause more questions. Sam made the quick decision to just be honest, "No. I've recently connected with a Hexenbiest and a Blutbad whose wife is a Fuchsbau, though technically, I haven't met her yet. She's been too busy watching their kids."

Aunt Ruthie didn't hide that she was impressed, "That's very progressive. It's not completely unheard of, but it's certainly unusual for a Hexenbiest, a Blutbad and a Fuchsbau to be friends, let alone for two of them to be married to one another."

Sam wiped her brow, she was terrified of the possibility of Aunt Ruthie asking what, socially, is often the next question asked. She held her breath hoping the subject had finally passed, but Ruthie had been in journalism a long time. She could smell an incomplete story and asked the question Sam had been afraid she'd ask, "So, how did you meet them?"

Inside Sam's head, she screamed. She panicked and decided it was best to evade that question, "I'm sorry, Aunt Ruthie, I need to go and talk to some of Zachary's friends and see how they're holding up." She walked off without awaiting her aunt's response.

---

Inside the funeral director's office a man lay dead on the floor behind the desk. Sitting in the office chair was Charles Spencer. He was using the computer to determine the best way out of Portland on foot. Did he feel like going south to California? He felt it was possible that HW would know to look for him there, but it is a very large state. He could easily make it from the top to the bottom and back again without seeing an HW agent. The alternative, of course, is to head back east. He hadn't been to Texas in ages. Maybe he could get some barbecue.

He reached down into the pocket of the dead funeral director and carefully removed his wallet. He opened it to find a few hundred dollars.

Funeral director's certainly make some good money. Maybe now he could splurge and take a bus. He'd have to remain clean shaven, maybe even dye his hair. Shame about killing the funeral director. He couldn't be sure whether it was vermin or not and now he'll never know.

He checked the time and saw he still had several minutes before the funeral was going to start. He began an internet search for flights out of Portland and left the screen up. If anyone from HW saw it, they'd likely know it was a trick, but would be duty bound to search the airport. If he decided to take a bus at all, it wouldn't be out of Portland. He'd walk for a couple weeks before risking it.

The phone on the desk rang. Spencer stared at it. At first, he thought it best to ignore it, but he couldn't help himself. He picked up the receiver, "Perry Family Funeral Home." Whoever it was hung up without saying anything. He put the receiver back in the cradle and thought to himself, 'Guess it wasn't important.'

He checked the time again. Time sure drags when you're looking forward to something. He began cleaning up after himself. Wiping everything down. If they found a fingerprint or even a hair follicle it wouldn't be because he was lazy. Although, after the mess he planned to make in the funeral parlor, all this clean up will likely be a moot point.

---

Nick's phone rang as he was driving. He fished it out of his pocket and answered. Trubel didn't let him finish saying his name when she shouted, "He's there, Nick! I called the funeral home and he answered, I recognized his voice and hung up."

Until that moment, Nick had been driving as fast as could unofficially, but that now he'd gotten the proof he needed, he turned on the police lights and the siren of his SUV. He shouted into his phone, "I'm nearly there!" He disconnected before Trubel could reply. He decided that once he was in the neighborhood, he'd turn off the siren. He didn't want Spencer to know he was approaching.

---

Spencer strolled into the parlor. He was curious how far he'd get before someone noticed him. There were even more vermin there than he expected. Theoretically, it was possible not all of them would be vermin, but he didn't have time to sort through them. Casualties of war. The blade to his scythe wasn't locked in place yet, so at first glance it could easily be confused with a walking stick. But only a cursory examination would expose it as the weapon it was designed to be. With the funeral director not in attendance yet, and now never would be, many were patiently waiting for the event to start. Some were seated, others were lost in conversation among the other attendees.

With each step he took towards the center of the room he felt more eyes on him and less and less conversation taking place.

He smiled and said, "Which one of you is Samantha?"

Samantha had been standing near her brother's casket when she heard her name. She turned in the direction of the voice and saw what looked to be a homeless man in a hoodie and jeans with some sort of staff or walking stick. He was looking around the room trying to find her. When she was able to clearly to make out his face, she felt she recognized him, but at first, couldn't think of how. When the realization hit her, she froze.

She muttered to herself, "Spencer."

Unfortunately, the attendees in the parlor had become so quiet, he heard his name and turned to face her. He smiled wide, like they were long lost friends. Samantha attempted to control her emotions, but failed. She Woged. Several other Wesen saw her Woge and reflexively Woged themselves. Several of those who Woged saw that Spencer was a Grimm and couldn't keep quiet about it, murmuring among each other. A few shouted, "He's a Grimm!" All of them began backing up closer to the walls or bunching closer together for safety.

"There it is," Spencer spread his arms, "now we're talking! Wooo!" He looked around the room. He began pointing out what he was seeing, "A lot of Scharfblickes, but that's to be expected. Reinigens! Well, I haven't seen one of them in a long time. Not a lot of Reinigens in Black Claw. A couple Stangebar, meh. Those I see all the time."

It had been a nice day outside and it was common for the funeral parlor to prop open the front door to keep air flowing. That had been done today, Spencer gestured behind him towards the open door and said, "Anyone want to be the first to try to get past me?" He lifted his scythe, the blade slid into place and locked. There were audible gasps as everyone finally noticed it was an extremely deadly weapon. Some well seasoned Wesen noticed it was a Reaper scythe and said as much to those closest to them.

---

Nick had parked his SUV a block away and ran the remainder of the distance. For once, he wanted to get the drop on Spencer if he could. He felt he was running faster than he'd ever run before. As he ran he focused his hearing. He could hear Spencer speaking, daring the people inside to run towards the exit. Nick jumped a hedge and within a few more strides he'd launched himself through the doorway and collided shoulder first into Spencer's back.

Spencer flew forward, crashing hard and fast into an organ that hadn't been used in years. It's disuse hadn't made it hurt any less when his face collided with the keys.

Spencer spun around on one knee and couldn't hide his surprise when he saw Nick Burkhardt standing in front of him without a scratch on him. Even a Grimm can't heal that fast.

Samantha couldn't contain her relief when she saw Nick standing between her friends and family, and Charles Spencer. She put a hand to her chest and said, "Nick! Thank you!"

She likely was going to say more but Spencer cut in, as he stood up from his kneeling position he said, "Don't thank him yet, sweetheart. I've taken him down once before and I'll do it again."

Nick turned his head, keeping Spencer in his field of vision, he put a hand out to the attendees and said, "I need everyone to keep back, if the opportunity presents itself, head for the door."

Spencer stomped his scythe staff on the floor as he shouted, "No one is leaving here alive!" He smiled and added, "Except me."

At Spencer's words, several people in the parlor Woged out of reflex again and Nick wished he had worn his sunglasses as he heard several people shout things like, "Oh my God, he's a Grimm too!"

Sam attempted to shout over them, "Nick won't hurt you!" When the voices had quieted down she added, "He's my friend."

Spencer rolled his eyes, "Ugh, enough of this." He stepped forward and attempted to jab the handle of his scythe at Nick's face. He didn't expect to make contact. He just wanted to force Nick to dodge and that's exactly what happened. Nick sidestepped the blow with ease and Spencer took another step forward. He stopped a couple feet short of Nick and stood motionless. He looked up at the blade of the scythe and said, "You know, I'm starting to like this thing."

Then Nick did exactly as Spencer had been hoping. He took a step forward to close the gap. Maybe Nick was going to punch him or grab him, but it didn't matter. Spencer pivoted on his heel and was immediately behind Nick. Just like their first encounter, he reached down to grab Nick's shin and yanked on it as hard as he could. But nothing happened.

He looked up and saw that Nick had turned his head and was looking back at him. Spencer pulled on Nick's leg again with all his strength, and again, nothing happened. In a flash of movement, Nick had spun around, crouched down to lock eyes with Spencer and, with an open palm, struck Spencer directly in his chest directly over his heart. Spencer flew backwards, his back and head struck hard against the drywall, leaving a Spencer sized dent. He fell down on the ground, but managed to land on his knees.

Nick walked over and picked up the scythe that Spencer had been holding until he'd been launched into the nearby wall. Nick spun it around with his hands a few times and smiled at Spencer as he did so.

Spencer was unable to hide his contempt. He spat on the floor and wasn't surprised to see a small amount of blood in it.

At that, Nick grabbed the scythe handle with both hands and brought it down across his knee, breaking it in two. He threw the pieces at the organ Spencer had crashed into just minutes before.

Spencer stood up, narrowed his eyes and asked Nick, "How are you doing this?"

Nick replied, "The how isn't nearly as important as the why." Before Spencer could ask what Nick meant by that, Nick continued, "You're under arrest for the murder of Zachary Gray and the attempted murder of everyone here." The room contained dozens of people and there had been many gasps and whispers while Nick and Spencer had traded barbs and attacks against one another, but at that moment, the room was dead silent. There were many wide eyes and open mouths as the visual evidence continued to stack up that a Grimm was protecting a room full of Wesen from another Grimm.

Spencer's temper was rising to the surface. Waiving his arms frantically, he screamed, "That wasn't murder, that was extermination! They're things!"

In the distance Nick could hear the oncoming approach of police sirens. He raised a finger next to his ear and said, "Ah, they're playing our song." Spencer stared at him, clearly not understanding the reference. After a moment, Nick realized he was the only one in the room who could hear the sirens, "Don't worry that will make sense in a minute or two."

Nick took a pair of handcuffs from his coat pocket and dangled them from his thumb as he asked, "Are you going to come along peacefully?"

Spencer couldn't handle any more of Nick's attitude, acting as if the fight were already over. He screamed and charged at Nick. Nick pivoted on his heel and within a blink he was standing directly behind Spencer. Nick struck him with another open palm strike directly on the spine. Spencer fell clumsily to the ground. He spun around attempted to sweep Nick at the knees, but the blow cut through nothing but air. Nick grabbed Spencer by the back of his head, dragging him roughly across the floor and pushed his face onto the keys of the old organ. While he held him in place with one hand he used his other to direct the attendees to finally make their way out the door to safety.

Spencer screamed in frustration, flailing both his arms around, one of his hands found a piece of the scythe that Nick had disposed of earlier. He grabbed it and began hitting Nick in his leg as hard and fast as he could, over and over, but Nick barely felt it. In response, Nick released Spencer's head and instead grabbed him by the waistband, picking him up off his feet. Nick lifted Spencer into the air and brought him down hard to the ground. Spencer landed awkwardly on his left shoulder, he howled out in pain and anger. He couldn't tell if his arm was broken or not, all he knew for sure is that he when he tried to pick himself up from the floor, it had been essentially useless.

He got to his feet and saw that Nick was already squared off, ready to continue the fight if need be. Everything was ruined. All the vermin had gone outside, off to who knows where. He could barely move his left arm and Nick was blocking the path to the exit.

'Ah, there's the icing on the cake,' he thought to himself sardonically, 'The approaching sound of police sirens.'

Nick read his facial expression and asked, "Oh, can you finally hear them now?"

How was he doing this? How was he so powerful now? So fast? And apparently can hear police sirens no one else can hear?

Spencer kept opening and closing his left fist, attempting to regain feeling in that arm. But the sirens were nearly on top of them and if he was going to make his escape he didn't have the luxury of waiting for his arm to function properly. He had to make this happen now.

He attempted to use his peripheral vision to find the missing blade to the scythe but failed, so instead he scanned the room as quickly as he could and when he found the blade he made a mad dash for it only to find that Nick had gotten there ahead of him and had placed his foot on top of it. Spencer looked up just in time to see Nick's fist come crashing down onto his face. Once, twice, three times.

Spencer lay on the ground barely able to breath. His jaw and nose most likely broken. Nick put his knee on Spencer's back.

Nick reached over and grabbed Spencer's right wrist and placed his handcuff on it. Then he reached over and grabbed Spencer's left arm and pulled it back. Spencer made an audible yelp of pain. As Nick tightened the cuffs he began, "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be held against you..."

---

As Nick walked Spencer out of the funeral home and past the crowd of remaining funeral attendees, he felt the timing was near cinematic as police cruisers came to screeching halts at the nearby curb. He didn't recognize any faces so he held up his badge as he handed Spencer over to uniformed officers as they exited their vehicles. He explained the charges Spencer was facing and added that medical attention was likely needed. Because he couldn't tell the officers Spencer is a Grimm, he made up some half-truths about him being a master of several forms of martial arts and absolutely deadly both with, and without, weapons. Nick advised that multiple officers should be with him at all times until he was in lockup.

Spencer breathed heavily through his mouth. He heard the words Nick was saying to the officers but wasn't really listening. The pain from his arm, nose and jaw were all he could focus on clearly.

Nick added, "I read him his rights when I cuffed him, but do me a favor and tell him a couple more times in case he tries to later claim he wasn't conscious or coherent at the time. I don't want this guy released on a technicality. Okay?"

The officers nodded as they took Spencer into their custody and began patting him down. Once Nick was confident Spencer wasn't going anywhere, he turned around and was immediately crashed into by Samantha. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him as tightly as she could. Nick did his best to return the affection but as he looked around at the people whose lives he just saved, the tension was palpable. Sam was the only one there who felt comfortable being within ten feet of him.

She didn't much care about her family and friends' reservations though. She released her hug, grabbed his hand and with as much gentle force as she could muster, she pulled him over to her Great Aunt Ruthie. People standing near her visibly backed up as Nick was pulled in her direction. Sam stopped, stood facing her aunt, and with as much defiancé as she dared, said, "Aunt Ruthie, this is Nick. He's a detective for the Portland, PD and," she lowered her voice in case a nearby police officer could overhear, "he's a Grimm... who just saved our lives."

Normally, Nick would have to prevent bystanders from meandering off, telling them they had to to stay at the crime scene so that they could give statements to officers about what they'd witnessed, but no one seemed to be trying to go anywhere. They were transfixed on Nick, Sam and Aunt Ruthie. Around him, the police officers were taking out crime scene tape and cordoning off the area. Wu and Hank had finally arrived and were making their way through the crowd.

Before Aunt Ruthie could respond to the unprompted introduction, Sam spoke again, reiterating the words she had spoken earlier in the funeral parlor, loudly, slowly and clearly, as she turned her head to survey the crowd, "And... he's my friend."

Nick took his hand from Sam's and extended it to her Aunt Ruthie for a handshake and greeted her, "Ma'am."

Ruthie smiled, looked at Sam and said, "Very progressive indeed," and extended her hand to accept Nick's offer of a handshake and friendship.

The tension in the air relaxed a great deal. There were still some in the crowd who kept their defenses up, keeping Nick at a safe distance, but it appeared as though most were willing to step forward and thank him for arriving before anyone had died.

Wu came up from behind Nick and said, "Fraid not." He pulled Nick away from the crowd and leaned in close to his ear, "We have a body in the funeral director's office, his wallet was missing. After searching Spencer, the wallet was in his hoodie pocket. Seems like we have a slam dunk conviction on at least that murder. The officers said you're charging him with the attempted murder of the people here and the murder of Zachary Gray?"

Nick nodded, "He confessed to killing Gray in front of everyone here. I'm hoping to get confessions for the other killings too. The families deserve closure. I didn't see any other employees while I was in there. Try to track down the," Nick wasn't sure what the next person in line would be called, "assistant director?"

Nick turned to face the crowd and let them know that officers would be along to collect their personal information and take a statement. He asked that they please be patient.

Hank had been talking to the officers who had been searching Spencer. He repeated what Nick had said to them earlier regarding how incredibly dangerous Spencer is and to not drop their guard at all. He took it a step further and added, "Even if he's doped up on horse tranquilizers, you assume he's faking. Got that?" The officers nodded their understanding. Hank wished he could just come out and say, 'He's a Grimm!'

When he was done, Hank went over to Nick and asked, "How are you feeling?"

Nick couldn't hide his relief. He nodded and said, "It feels like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders." He glanced over at Spencer who was sitting in the back of a patrol car and added, "I'll feel even better when he's behind bars though."

Hank chuckled a bit and said, "That's good, but that's not what I meant. I mean, how are you feeling after going toe-to-toe with that guy?"

Nick shrugged that off and said, "I feel great. But you know how it is, I'll probably feel it in the morning."

Hank shook his head. He smiled but his facial expression made it clear that he was a tad jealous of Nick's abilities. He said, "Janelle called me. She would have been here but she was in the middle of an arrest when she got my text."

Nick said, "I know I asked for the backup, but in the end, I think it was better that it was just him and me. I was nervous enough with the civilians in the room. If anyone else had been there, it's possible someone may have been hurt."

After Hank walked back into the crowd to help collect statements, Nick walked back over to Samantha and pulled her away from the crowd. He spoke softly as he said, "Sam, a Wesen being friends with a Grimm... it can be dangerous. Monroe-"

Sam cut him off, "I get it. But, having met you... knowing you, has saved my life twice and the lives of my friends and family. You're just going to have to accept that it's a risk I'm willing to take. I'm not going to avoid something good because of the potential bigotry."

Nick nodded, "Fine. Tell your family I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."

Sam wagged a finger at him, "No, no, no. You can tell them that yourself. Aunt Ruthie has asked me to ask you to have dinner with us." She poked him on the tip of his nose, "And I'm not gonna let you say no."

Nick looked away. He always felt uncomfortable at receiving gratitude. However, he also understood her family's desire to ask him to dinner for multiple reasons. Curiosity at him being a Grimm, they've likely never seen one before today. But also, to feel him out and build their confidence that Sam will be safe to be around him.

After considering the offer for a moment he looked back at her and nodded, "Okay, fine."

Sam smiled and clapped her hands together a couple times, "Thank you. I'll text you the time and place?"

Nick nodded, "I need to make some calls and let people know I'm alright and that we finally caught Spencer."

He took out his phone as Sam turned to walk away. Before he could bring up his contact list, Sam abruptly turned back around and hugged him again. Looking up at him she said, "Last time, I swear." He grinned and returned her hug until she let go and ran back over to her Great Aunt Ruth.

Nick then texted Trubel that Spencer was in cuffs. Nick next called Monroe and he answered on the first ring, "Dude, are you okay? Tell me you're okay."

Nick assured him that he was fine and gave Monroe a brief run down of what had happened. Monroe let out a loud, deep sigh, "Oh man. I am so glad you're okay. Trubel called me and said you were going after Spencer but it was my turn to watch the kids today. Rosalee is at the shop. I couldn't leave!"

Nick chuckled, "Hey, one of the kids is mine, so I'm glad you stayed to watch over them. I want to give Adalind a call. Let her know what's going on."

Monroe slapped himself on his forehead and said, "Dude, I have great news. Elizabeth thinks she found a way to cure you guys. She's still working out the kinks and we have some stuff on order, but pretty soon, I think you two will be seeing each other."

Nick was glad to hear the news but held back on feeling overly excited. If Elizabeth was wrong, it would be devastating. He said, "Thanks Monroe, I'll let Adalind know."

When he next called Adalind, he hadn't realized how much he missed her until she answered and he could hear the smile in her voice when she said his name. He told her the good news, both about Spencer finally being in custody and about the possibility of having found a cure for what separated them. He also confessed to her how much he missed her and she laughed as she admitted she had felt too embarrassed to say she missed him when they'd only been apart for a few days.

Adalind stopped laughing and asked, "Nick, did you kick Spencer's ass?"

Nick, not one to brag, usually, couldn't help himself, "Oh, I destroyed him."

Adalind replied, "Yeah, I thought you might. I love you. Talk to you soon."

Before Nick put his phone in his pocket, he stopped and sent out a group text to the families of those he knew had been affected by Spencer, letting them know that he was going to prison and to please spread the word to others in the community that they could return to their normal lives.

When Nick surveyed the area, he found that the crowd was beginning to thin as statements had been collected. He overheard that Zachary's funeral was going to be postponed until the following day. He planned on attending that one to support the family. Rather than be taken to lock up, Spencer was being taken to prison so he could receive care in their medical facilities. Nick walked back to his SUV and then drove home to his loft to spend time with his daughter. Later that evening he would have dinner with Samantha and her family. He wished that Adalind could be there with him, but that would happen soon enough, he hoped.