A/N: Well, that last chapter really struck a nerve. Thank you all for your feedback! I'll admit, this next chapter had the potential to go full train wreck, screwball comedy at the dinner party. You were this close to watching me reimagine Bringing Up Baby with Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn played by Nick and Adalind, and I'm still tempted to turn this chapter around and GO THERE. But I decided Juliette deserved better, so here we are.


Nick works hard at combat practice in the forest with Monroe and Adalind. It's easy to forget out there in the wild. Easy to forget Juliette and all the beautiful moments they've shared over the past three years. Easy to forget that all of that is coming to an end, not with a bang but a whimper. It's not Juliette's fault that he's changed this year—in so many ways. He grew up; he became a Grimm; he fell in love with an evil lawyer at first sight and spent the next six months trying to forget about it because she was evil and that was kind of a deal breaker, right until it wasn't anymore.

And then she wasn't evil, and he wasn't a Grimm, and still somehow, it works. He and Adalind work, in ways that he and Juliette never really have. On the drive back to his and Juliette's house, he wonders now if he and Juliette were ever really real with each other. Authentic. True. In the past two days with Adalind, they've fought and fucked and flirted and laughed and cried and held each other, and all of it felt like them. Like they were being themselves. Moment by moment, ugly emotion by ugly emotion, joy by joy—all of it is real, and the realness of it—the vulnerability—it's like stretching after being cramped for so long. It's like waking up to a whole new life—one where he gets to be himself on a moment by moment basis, even when he's feeling kind of ugly.

He's never had that with Juliette. She's never had that with him. In so many ways they've been on their best behavior with each other for three years, both pretending to be someone that they hoped the other person could love. He thinks of Juliette this morning—all that manic energy about the damn cake and a dinner party destined to be a disaster—and he wonders if he did that to her. If she's been pretending to be the perfect housewife because that's what she thinks he wants. He wonders if he's been pretending, too. Pretending to be the strong, silent boyfriend with the job he can't share with his delicate girlfriend because if he was honest about what he sees everyday, she couldn't handle it.

But she probably could handle it, and he probably could handle doing a little more housework, and together they probably could have built something real and loving and true if they'd ever allowed themselves to be vulnerable and authentic and ugly with each other.

But they didn't, and that's something of a small tragedy. They had their chance, and they blew it. And then he met Adalind.

Adalind is quiet on the ride back. It still makes him nervous, but he's pretty sure the quiet tonight has nothing to do with plotting this time. He's pretty sure she's thinking about Juliette, too. It's about that time.

He pulls up in front of the house and turns off the ignition. They both sit in silence for another minute, and then Nick sighs.

"I better go get it over with."

Adalind takes a deep breath, then: "You don't have to."

"What?"

"Well, you don't," Adalind says, like it's a totally reasonable option. "You could go in there and ask her to marry you and move to Montana or something where you could both have a beautiful life with no monsters and no witches and no magic babies. The past two days can be a secret you take to your grave, and she never needs to know that you spent a single second considering another life. You can do that, Nick. Hell, you probably should do that. This is your get out of jail free card. You should probably take it."

Nick stares at Adalind. She's staring ahead, out of the front window, not meeting his eyes, but he can see the strain in her face in profile—in the way she holds herself. She's trying, he realizes. Trying to give him an out—a path back to the life he had before he saw her face and discovered that he was different. It should be tempting. He's only been a Grimm for six months and most of the time it's been confusing and chaotic and mostly just kind of deadly. It would be easy to take the gift he's been given and run. Start over with Juliette. Try again.

But he'll never get to be real with her. He'll never get to be true about the past six months of his life—about the time he spent with Adalind—about who he really is at his core, even if his powers are gone. He's a killer. A just one, he hopes, but a killer nonetheless. He was built for it—for fighting the good fight—for defending the defenseless—wesen and kehrseite alike. And if he goes back to Juliette—if they run away from Portland and everything he's discovered about himself and his world here—if they go back to pretending to be someone that they think the other person can love—well. That's not really a life, then, is it?

She needs to know, Nick realizes in that moment. Juliette needs to know him—needs to know why he can't be the man she fell in love with three years ago. Needs to know why a life with him would never be normal. He wants to be with Adalind—he does—but first he has to do this right with Juliette. And that starts with the truth.

"I'm not going to Montana," he tells Adalind, and she whips around to look at him, blue eyes sparkling damp in the streetlight. "But I do have to go talk to Juliette. Alone. It's time she knows about me and you and, well, everything. I don't know how long it's going to take."

Adalind nods. "I'll make myself scarce."

"I'm sorry, this hasn't been much of a birthday for you, has it?"

Adalind shrugs philosophically. "At least someone remembered this year. Even if it was Juliette. And hey, there's always Dairy Queen. She's never let me down yet."

Nick grins. "Once this is over, I'll buy you all the Dairy Queen you want."

"Now that's a birthday present."

Adalind smiles at him—a sad little smile that makes him wish he could take her to Dairy Queen right now and spoil her rotten. But that would only delay the inevitable, and he can't really be hers until he resolves his relationship with Juliette.

He leaves the car and finds Monroe and Rosalee on the curb, waiting for him. He knows they'll follow him anywhere, and that's a revelation. He's not alone—he has a team built on trust and shared experience, and they will support him no matter what happens next.

"Plus one acquired," Monroe says, gesturing to Rosalee, who rolls her eyes. "Are we actually doing this?"

"No," Nick says. "But thank you for being willing to try."

"I'm just here for the cake," Rosalee says, her voice warm and teasing.

"It would probably be worth it," Nick says, "but we'll never know for sure. I'm going to go talk to Juliette. Would one of you mind helping me explain the new world I'm living in to her? I know that's a lot to ask, I just think she deserves to know the truth. Even if we're not living together anymore, enough people know about her. She's always going to be something of a target to get to me, and I think she should know why and what to do if that happens."

Monroe and Rosalee trade a look—communicating silently in that way Nick's not even sure that they realize they do.

"I'll go," Monroe says.

"Thank you," Nick says. "Really."

He pulls out his wallet and extracts the cash he has on hand and gives it to Rosalee.

"What—"

"It really is Adalind's birthday, and it really hasn't been a great one. Could you take her out somewhere to celebrate for me? I think she might like Dairy Queen."

Rosalee blinks. "Adalind likes Dairy Queen? Wasn't she wearing Armani yesterday? She wears Armani but she wants DQ for her birthday?"

Nick shrugs. "I don't know. Take her somewhere fancy if she wants, but, yeah—I think she wants Dairy Queen."

"Huh," Rosalee says, and then she goes to get Adalind out of the Land Cruiser. "Do you want to go get ice cream for dinner? Nick's paying, and we're stealing Monroe's car."

"Fuck yes," Adalind says. "Let's blow this popsicle stand."

And then they're gone and that leaves Nick on the curb with Monroe and the prospect of Juliette inside.


The house smells delightful—chocolatey and nutty—savory and sweet. He can already tell Juliette's outdone herself on the dinner menu, and he feels a well deserved stab of guilt for letting her go to all that trouble rather than finding a way to be honest with her this morning.

Juliette appears in the kitchen doorway—glowing in a deep teal blouse that brings out the red in her hair and the green in her hazel eyes. She's beautiful and so happy to see him, and Nick feels like shit.

"Hello!" she says. "Monroe, it's such a pleasure to meet you properly. Thank you so much for coming, I know it was short notice."

"Hi Juliette. It was no trouble at all," Monroe says, like a liar, and Nick knows that needs to be the last one of the night.

"Where's the birthday girl?" Juliette asks. "Monroe, did you bring a date?"

"They're not coming," Nick says finally—and it feels final. It feels like this is the end. "I'm so sorry Juliette, but we really need to talk."

Juliette flinches—he can't blame her. That's the way break ups always start, and this one is no different.

"Oh," Juliette says, quiet and subdued for the first time all day. "I guess maybe we do."

There's an awkward silence while she looks between him and Monroe, and then her eyes blow even wider.

"Oh my God," Juliette says. "Are you leaving me for him?"

Nick looks to Monroe. Monroe tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, considering.

"Eh." Monroe shrugs. "He's not really my type."

"Oh, thanks," Nick says. "Thanks a lot."

"Dude, you're a Grimm. I already have enough of that energy in my life. I don't need to sleep with it, too."

"Dude, I'm with Adalind. That wasn't really an option."

"You're with Adalind?" This last is from Juliette, and suddenly, she is incandescent with rage. "You brought your mistress into my home? You let me bake her a fucking birthday cake, and now you show up at my party and tell me you're leaving me for her?"

Nick takes a step back, but Juliette just keeps coming.

"How long has this been going on? Does Hank know? Were you screwing her behind Hank's back, too? What is wrong with you?"

"I wasn't," Nick says. "I didn't. It's only been two days—"

"Two days?!"

"—and Hank is fine—well, as fine as he can be after she tried to kill him, but—"

"Adalind tried to kill Hank? And you brought her here? Were you going to try to kill me, too?"

"Oh God no," Nick says. "We setting up a committee for that—"

"You're setting up a committee to kill me?"

"No!" Nick says. "Not you! It's a tribunal kind of a thing. Democratically elected. That's important."

"You're going to elect people to kill me?"

"No one is killing anyone," Monroe says, looking for all the world like he might start the bloodshed if this conversation doesn't get back on track. "Nick, let's maybe leave the future of democracy in Portland out of this for the moment and get back to why you asked me to come."

"Right," Nick says. "Juliette, there's something you need to know—"

"Yeah, you're fucking Adalind, and she's a fucking killer."

"I mean more than that. Me and Adalind—that wasn't right. I know that. But it's part of something much bigger that's been going on in my life, and that's what Monroe is going to show you now. You might want to take a seat."

Juliette stares at him—beyond angry—floating somewhere in a sea of rage so deep it becomes numbness—bewilderment. Nick can't blame her. He can't imagine what she's going through, and it's only going to get worse.

"Really," he says. "Juliette, please sit down."

She does. She wanders in a daze into the living room and sinks onto the couch in slow motion—every move a jerk and stutter—stunned by pain. Nick and Monroe follow her into the room, standing on the other side of the coffee table.

"Six months ago, I started seeing things," Nick says. "My family is full of people who have the ability to see things that other people can't. We're called Grimms. My aunt was one. My mom was one. And my aunt thought I might not get it, because my ability came very late in life, so she never told me, but then it did come, and that's why she came to Portland."

"This doesn't make any sense," Juliette says. "Nick, you need help. This isn't real. It can't be real."

"It's real," Monroe says. "There are people in the world with different faces—animal faces—and on a normal day, Nick can see them. It's kind of his job. That job has been corrupted for thousands of years, but the original purpose of the Grimms was to serve as a balance in the natural order of things. They see us, and they protect us—sometimes from each other. That's what Nick does. He's a protector, just like he always has been."

"You believe in this?" Juliette is close to tears now. "This is insane. How can you believe this?"

Monroe sighs. "Because I've lived it. I'm going to show you something Juliette. Something kind of scary, but I want you to remember that I'm still just me. The vegan guy who saved your life once, all right? I might look different, but it's just me."

"Fine," Juliette says. "Fine. Do it then. Honestly, Nick, if you wanted to break up with me, cheating on me with Adalind was more than enough—"

She stops talking then. She's frozen, actually, staring at Monroe's face in what Nick can only guess is horror. He feels bad about that. Monroe must be really sick of seeing that expression in response to his face.

Nick still can't see Monroe's woge. He's not sure why his absence of powers means he can't see wesen woge even when they want him to, but it's also sort of a drop in the ocean of weird magical happenings in his life at this point, so he's not going to lose any sleep over it. Not when Juliette looks like she might be losing enough sleep for all of them.

Eventually Monroe shrugs his shoulders, and Juliette collapses back against the couch.

"Oh my God," she says again. "Tell me that was a mask, please."

"You know it wasn't," Nick says. "You know it's true."

"Why are you telling me this? Why show me if you're just going to leave anyway. I would have been happier not to know. I didn't want to know."

"I know," Nick says. "And I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want to tell you anything painful, if I could help it. But you need to know. You need to know that there are dangers in this world that might come after you because of me. And if I leave now, they may never find you, but also, they might, and you need to know to call me if that happens. I will protect you, Juliette. We will protect you."

"We?"

"Me and Monroe and Hank and Rosalee—"

"And Adalind."

"Yeah." Nick sighs. "And Adalind."

"How did this happen?" Juliette closes her eyes and rubs at her temples like she's trying to fight off a headache. "We were so happy. You were going to propose. We were going to be so happy."

"Yeah," Nick says. "We were. I loved you. I meant it. But I don't think we were ever really real with each other, either. I know I wasn't. I know I was pretending to be someone you could love, even if I didn't know it at the time. I think maybe you were, too. And I'm so sorry, Juliette. I'm so sorry you never felt safe enough to be less than perfect around me."

Juliette drops her hands and stares up at him.

"You think—" She shakes her head and then glares. "You think I wasn't being real? Nick, I loved you. I still love you. I loved you enough to be what you needed me to be. To make our home a haven for you—somewhere you could leave the job behind and just be at home. That was real. That was the realest thing I've ever done for someone else."

"I know," he says. "I'm sorry. I wanted to be someone who could leave the job behind for you, too. I really did. But it's part of me, Juliette. It's who I am—it was even before I became a Grimm. I'm never going to be someone who clocks out at five and goes home to an entirely different life. I was born to do this work, and I'm never going to leave it at the front door. This is who I am. I spend most of my time trying to stop people from killing each other and tracking them down for justice when I can't. I've been living a double life since last fall, and I've been fighting with Adalind just as long, and that all has to stop right now. I can't keep hiding who I really am."

"Fighting? You don't mean like a lover's quarrel, do you?"

"No," Nick says. "It's a long story, but she's an actual witch, and we were actually trying to kill each other two days ago. And then something happened. Something even wilder than everything you've heard so far—something that we don't even have all the answers to yet. But it's going to change our lives—my life and hers. And I'm sorry, Juliette, but this new life—I can't do it and be the partner that you deserve."

Juliette isn't meeting his eyes. Her gaze is focused just below his neck—and then he realizes that his necklace from Henrietta is out and glowing on his chest.

"You're wearing Adalind's necklace," Juliette says. "She said it was a family heirloom."

Nick touches the pendant and feels the potential swirling there, beating like another heart, warm and comforting to the touch. At the back of his head, he can feel Adalind—feel her worry and her resignation. She doesn't expect him to come back from this. Maybe he didn't even expect to come back from this. Maybe he's been waiting to tell Juliette because he was afraid that once he did, everything else would fall back into place—his girlfriend, his love, his old life—and then there'd be no room left for something new and wild and magical with Adalind.

Only now he's told Juliette everything—he's made a clean break. And this is the moment—the moment he could apologize and beg Juliette to take him back—but he can't. He doesn't love Juliette anymore. Not like that. He doesn't want to spend the rest of his life caught between two worlds. He wants to be real—he wants to be with someone who wants to be real with him—and that was never going to be Juliette—not even in a world where he never saw Adalind's true face.

"It's a set," he says. "The necklaces—they're a set. They're connecting us together. And they will be heirlooms, I guess, once we have an heir."

There's a horrible silence after that. Monroe shifts at his side, and Nick feels another stab of guilt for dragging his friend into this. It's one thing to leave Juliette for Adalind and an uncertain future; it's another entirely to leave Juliette for Adalind and the family that Juliette had always hoped that she would help create.

"Get out," Juliette says—cold and deadly as any hexenbiest—and Nick gets.