Chapter Six
Nick paced the length of Renard's office where Renard had sent him upon Matthew's shocking statement. Nick had been gently steered there by Hank, who had seen him safely inside before closing the door and escorting Hector in the direction of the conference room.
The young detective's head was spinning. A brother? How was that even possible? No matter how hard he racked his brain, he could come up with absolutely no memory of a brother.
His home in Reinbeck, New York had had no pictures of an older brother. In fact, Nick could only recall a handful of pictures that had anyone besides him and his parents, and most of those had been of Marie.
His parents had never once mentioned a second child, either. Nick was sure of that. The only other family Nick had known about, aside from Marie, was his father's parents. They had died shortly after Nick had been born, so he had no memories of them. For the longest time, it had been just him and his parents.
After they had died, and Marie had become his guardian, Nick had spent the next several years moving from one place to another. Marie had been a great listener, and had always put Nick's needs ahead of her own, but she hadn't uttered a single word about Nick having a brother.
Nick's thoughts turned toward the possibility that Matthew was lying, or was mistaken. Surely he was wrong; how could Nick possibly have a brother he didn't know anything about?
A knock on the office door cut into Nick's spiraling thoughts. Nick looked up, pausing on the far side of the office, as the door opened and the man in question stepped inside.
"From your reaction earlier, I take it no one ever told you about me," Matthew stated, closing the door behind himself.
Nick shook his head wordlessly.
Matthew took another step forward. "Which means you must have about a million questions," he continued.
"About," Nick agreed, his voice soft.
Matthew nodded and folded his arms across his chest almost in a self-hug. He moved to Renard's desk and leaned against it. "To tell you the truth, I have just as many for you. This isn't exactly the reunion I had imagined."
Nick stared at Matthew, eyes tracing the older man's features for some piece of his mother or father in them. Matthew only smiled at the scrutiny.
"If I was in your shoes, I probably wouldn't believe me either," he admitted.
"How can I be sure you're telling the truth?" Nick asked, the words nearly tripping over themselves in their hurry to escape. "How do I know you're not just making this up?"
Matthew ducked his head, acknowledging the challenge. "We can get a DNA test to be sure if you want," he said. "But there might be a faster way to prove we're related."
"How?" Nick asked, curious despite himself.
Matthew glanced out into the bullpen, then turned back to Nick. "You're not the only one with wesen out for their blood. Although, honestly, I've never seen an all-out attack quite like that before."
Nick's eyes widened. "You . . . you can see them, too?"
Matthew let out a huff. "Of course," he replied easily. "Our family is one of the strongest and oldest lines. Most born into it inherit the gift." He cocked his head to one side, curious. "Didn't you know?"
Nick ignored the question. "Where have you been?" he asked. "Why don't I remember you? Why didn't you live at home with us?"
"That's . . . a very long story." Matthew dropped his arms and jammed his hands into his pockets. "The short version is that mom's parents raised me. And when mom and dad died, they became my official guardians."
Nick frowned. "I don't understand," he said. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me about you? I would have wanted to know."
"I don't know for sure, but I have some thoughts," Matthew stated. "If you want, we can talk later? Catch up and all that?"
"I . . . yeah, I'd like that," Nick agreed.
"Great!" Matthew clapped his hands together. "In the meantime, I have to ask; are you going to be able to work with me, knowing the truth?"
Nick narrowed his eyes. "Are you?"
Matthew laughed. "Then let's go find our partners and see what you've got."
Nick felt himself relax slightly as he led Matthew through the bullpen and back to the conference room. He still didn't know whether he believed that Matthew was his brother, but a part of him was excited at the prospect of knowing another Grimm; of being able to talk to someone else who understood what he was going through.
Hank and Hector both looked up as Nick entered the room, followed by Matthew. Concern was poorly disguised on Hank's face as he studied his partner.
"Everything cool, man?" he asked.
"Of course," Nick answered. "You guys manage to solve the case yet, or did you both spend the time gossiping about us like a pair of mother hens?"
"My guess is the second one," Matthew stated. "Hector gossips like an old yenta."
"Ha ha ha," Hector said flatly. He tossed a set of keys at Matthew, who deftly snatched them out of the air. "Joke's on you, Chuckles. Their victims line up with ours; looks like our guy. And since you are closest to the door, you can go get our files from the car."
"I'm closer by three feet!" Matthew argued.
"Those files aren't getting here any faster," Hector said blandly.
Matthew rolled his eyes and nudged Nick. "C'mon, we brought all our files with us. Help me bring them in."
Nick's head turned to Matthew. "How many files do you have?"
"More than we'd like." Matthew spun the key ring around his finger, caught them, then gestured to the door. "Come on."
'More than we'd like' turned out to be an understatement. Together, Nick and Matthew had hauled four full boxes of files into the conference room. It had taken all four of them several hours to unpack and sort the files and build a continuum of events along one wall of the conference room.
Just as they were reaching a good stopping point, Wu had popped his head into the room and invited them to a local bar to unwind. After the excitement of the day, Nick had agreed that it was a great idea.
He was not alone in his opinion; as he slid into an empty seat at a table, Nick recognized nearly every face in the room from work.
Matthew slid into a chair across from him, his head swiveling left and right as he took everything in. "Happening place," he commented.
"Better than the dives you've dragged me to," Hector added, giving the room a once-over.
Nick grinned. "It's kind of unofficially known as a cop bar," he told them. "The owners had some problems with rough customers when they first opened, so word got around the precinct to start hanging out here."
Hank joined them, a pitcher of beer in one hand and four glasses balanced in the other. "I already let Kim know to put the next round on your tab," he informed Nick, distributing the glasses.
"How generous of me," Nick quipped with a grin.
"Especially after nearly being kidnapped by a dirtbag this afternoon," Matthew added.
Hank jerked in surprise, the beer he had been pouring into Hector's glass sloshing over the side. "What?"
"That's not what happened," Nick immediately protested.
"That's exactly what happened," Matthew corrected. "If not for your captain, who is bad ass by the way, there's no telling what the asshole would have done."
Hank gave his partner a stern look. "You weren't even going to tell me, were you?"
"Because there's nothing to tell," Nick insisted.
"Mmm hmm." Hank turned to Matthew. "Tell me; are you as big of a trouble magnet as he is?"
Matthew laughed, picking up his beer and taking a sip. "Of course not."
Hector rolled his eyes, contradicting Matthew's claim.
One of the uniformed officers turned away from the bar to face them. Nick fought to keep the scowl off of his face at seeing Sargeant Arnold.
"One of these days, the captain won't be around to save your bacon," Arnold told Nick.
"I don't recall inviting you into this conversation," Hank said coolly.
"It's a free country," Arnold said dismissively, his eyes slipping over Hank to study Hector and Matthew.
Matthew was reclined in his chair, glass of beer to his lips, but his frame was held ready to act at a moment's notice. He quirked an eyebrow up, brown eyes hardening as he met Arnold's appraising stare.
Arnold's eyes suddenly widened at Matthew. He glanced at Nick, then back to Matthew before scurrying away as quickly as he could.
Nick looked at Matthew. Matthew winked at him over his glass, took another swig, and set the glass down.
Hank was frowning after Arnold. "That was weird," he stated.
Matthew shrugged. "We have that effect on some people," he said, gesturing to Hector.
Hector scowled at him.
Matthew grinned at Hank. "See?"
Hank chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "So are you from New York, too?" he asked.
"By way of Pennsylvania," Matthew replied easily. "I lived with my . . . our," he nodded at Nick, "grandparents since I was eleven."
"And you're really brothers?" Hank pressed.
"Yep." Matthew took another drink. "I, er, was enrolled in a private academy near our grandparents, so I moved in with them."
Nick was able to read between the lines and understood that Matthew's obfuscation was tied to him being a Grimm. Hoping to distract Hank, Nick turned to Hector. "How about you? Where are you from?"
"Los Angeles, originally," Hector replied. "I moved around a bit growing up before settling in Dallas."
"How long have you two worked together?" Nick asked.
Hector and Matthew glanced at each other. "Going on . . . what, six years now?" Matthew said.
Hector nodded. "Sounds about right."
"How about you two?" Matthew asked.
"About a year and change," Hank answered readily.
Their conversation drifted from general getting-to-know-you questions and into humorous accounts from past cases. Time flew as the air filled with jokes and raucous laughter, and before Nick realized it, it was time to call it a night. To his further surprise, he wasn't quite ready to be separated from Matthew just yet.
"Where are you guys staying?" Nick asked as he signed the slip the waitress had brought him, paying for his tab.
"We got a couple rooms at the Best Western a few miles from here," Matthew replied. "Nothing but the best for us."
"Quit your whining," Hector admonished. "You know damn well we're on a budget."
"I was wondering if you wanted to talk some more?" NIck suggested to Matthew. "Get to know each other a little better?"
Matthew smiled at him. "I'd like that."
"Your hotel is on my way home," Hank told Hector. "Want a lift?"
"Thanks," Hector accepted. He looked at Matthew. "See you in the morning."
Matthew nodded as they all stood. He turned to Nick. "I'll follow you."
Nick couldn't understand why he was so nervous as he climbed into his car and guided it into traffic. His time with Matthew so far had seemed positive; Matthew had been very personable and engaging; nothing about him suggested that he harbored any negative feelings toward him, but Nick couldn't help but wonder if those feelings were there.
At that time of night there was very light traffic, so Nick was pulling into his driveway before he realized it. Switching his engine off, he hopped out and walked back to where Matthew was putting his rental car into park.
"Nice place," Matthew complimented, his eyes lifted as they took in the darkened house.
"Thanks," Nick replied, leading Matthew up the walkway. He unlocked the door and entered, switching on the lights. "Want anything to drink?"
"Got any coffee?" Matthew asked.
"Coming right up," Nick replied, heading for the kitchen. "Make yourself at home."
Nick busied himself with the coffee maker, setting it to brew and pulling out a couple of mugs. "Sugar?" he called. "Creamer?"
"Black," came the reply from the other room.
Nick fiddled with the mugs as he waited for the coffee to percolate. He couldn't hear Matthew at all in the next room, but he could sense another presence in the house. Having felt alone for the last couple of weeks, it was nice.
The coffee finished pouring into the carafe. Nick lifted the carafe, pouring the dark roast into two mugs. He splashed some creamer into his, then carried the mugs into the next room.
Matthew was in the living room, looking at the few pictures Nick had on display. As Nick carried the coffee to him, he noticed that the last picture Nick had taken of Marie was what had caught Matthew's attention.
"Marie," Nick stated, handing Matthew his mug. "She raised me after mom and dad died. She died six months ago."
Something resembling pain flickered across Matthew's face. "I haven't seen her in so long. How, uh . . . how did she . . . ?"
"She had cancer," Nick answered. He left it there, unwilling to revisit the tangled web of Renard and Reapers and deals just then.
Matthew nodded almost to himself, turning from the picture. He sat down on the couch, sipping at his coffee.
Nick sat in the armchair, suddenly at a loss for words. He took a sip of his own coffee, hoping to buy time to find his voice again.
"So," Matthew said. "Anyone else live here with you? Roommate? Girlfriend?"
"Ah, no," Nick replied. "I had a girlfriend, but . . . we split up not too long ago."
Matthew studied him. "Human?" he guessed.
Nick nodded. "I told her about all of this. About being a Grimm, about wesen. She was handling it okay, but then a Siegbarste broke into the house. He attacked me in an attempt to draw Hank out of protective custody. After that, she decided she'd had enough and left."
"Damn." Matthew shook his head. "You really do have the worst luck."
Nick laughed a little. "Sometimes," he conceded. He gave Matthew a thoughtful look. "You said you had your own thoughts about why mom and dad never mentioned you to me. What are they?"
Matthew took another drink, collecting his thoughts. "How old were you when they started preparing you for your inheritance?" he asked instead.
Nick frowned. "They didn't," he replied.
The answer took Matthew by surprise. "So Marie trained you?" he asked.
"Not . . . exactly," Nick hedged.
Matthew leaned forward, setting his mug on the coffee table and clasping his hands. Nick fought back the squirm of discomfort at being the sole focus of such intense notice.
"Nick," Matthew said slowly. "When did you first find out that you were a Grimm?"
"About six months ago," Nick admitted. "A few days before Aunt Marie died."
Matthew leaned back, dragging his hand down his face in shock. "Six months . . ." he murmured. He looked back at Nick. "So you haven't even been trained properly? Taught about various wesen? Nothing?"
"Not nothing," Nick argued. "I have Marie's books and journals. And I have a couple of friends who have been helping me here and there when I need it. I'm not completely helpless."
"I didn't mean to offend you," Matthew said. "I just . . . holy shit . . . being a Grimm is dangerous. Being a Grimm without any formal training or awareness is . . . it's practically suicidal. What the hell was Marie thinking?"
It wasn't the first time Nick had asked that question himself, but he didn't reply.
"Fuck it." Matthew shook his head. "What's done is done. I'm here now, so I'll tell you what; I'll train you. I'll make sure you are a little more prepared for what's out there."
"Thanks." Nick welcomed the offer with relief and gratitude. "I take it your training started a little earlier?"
Matthew's laugh was more bitter than amused. "Try a lot. Grandfather thought it was best to prepare me as early as possible. He started my training when I was six."
"Six?" Nick echoed, shocked.
Matthew shrugged. "He and Gran started Mom's training by the time she was eight," he said. "Marie's too, I think. But Grandfather saw I was ready and told mom so. I think mom wanted to wait a couple more years. I remember her and dad talking about it, saying I was too young."
"Six does seem pretty young," Nick commented.
"For other lines, maybe," Matthew said. "For Jacob Grimm's line? We have an example to set; a standard to meet."
Nick wasn't entirely sure that he agreed with the sentiment, but he kept the thought to himself. "So what exactly did you do for training?"
"At first, studying our history," Matthew answered. "Being quizzed on different wesen, their strengths and weaknesses. The most effective ways to kill them. Then hand-to-hand training, weapons training, that sort of thing."
For a kid?
Nick banished that thought as unproductive. "What about the good wesen?" he asked.
Matthew snorted in laughter. He looked at Nick and sobered quickly. "Wait; you're serious?"
Nick's confusion only deepened.
Matthew's expression grew pitying. "Nick . . . there's no such thing."
The earnest belief in Matthew's tone threw Nick for a loop. "That's not true," he argued. "I've met plenty of wesen that just want to be left alone to lead normal lives."
"But they're not normal," Matthew insisted. "They're animals, and dangerous ones at that. You can't tell me that that Bauerschwein in the bar playing at being a cop is a good wesen. I saw the way you reacted to him."
Nick glanced down into his cooling coffee.
"What's the story behind that, anyway?" Matthew asked.
Nick felt his face twist into a scowl. "A few months back, I arrested a good friend of his," Nick answered. "Another cop. And Bauerschwein. He'd been murdering Blutbaden."
"Arrested?" Matthew echoed. "Not killed?"
Nick looked up at him, scandalized. "Of course not!" he cried. "I'm a cop!"
Matthew closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the couch, groaning slightly. "I've got my work cut out for me."
Tendrils of offense were winding their way through Nick. "Don't put yourself out," he said, bitterness sneaking into his tone. "I've been doing fine so far."
Matthew lifted his head. "'Fine' isn't good enough. 'Fine' doesn't help you survive."
"I'm still alive," Nick pointed out.
"For now," Matthew replied. He sighed heavily, his body sagging. "Look," he continued. "I don't want to argue. I just . . . I finally see you again, find out you're also a Grimm, and that you've been virtually stumbling around in the dark. I've been out there; I've seen some pretty bad shit. I just don't want to finally get to know you again only to see you killed because you didn't know what you were facing."
The honesty helped to deflate most of Nick's bruised pride. "I appreciate any help or information you have to give me," he said. "I'm not completely helpless, you know. I am a cop."
A look that Nick could only describe as devious passed over Matthew's face. "Okay," he said, standing. "Come on. Show me what you've got."
Nick frowned, looking up at Matthew. "You're serious?"
"Why not?" Matthew glanced around, then moved to the open space between the living room and dining room. He glanced back at Nick, seeing that the younger man hadn't budged. "Unless you don't think you can take me?"
Nick set his mug down and stood, walking over to Matthew. "You just, what? Want me to attack you?"
"You can try," Matthew goaded.
Nick ran a quick assessing gaze over Matthew, noting potential strengths and weaknesses, then lunged at him.
Nick was fast, but Matthew was faster. Nick had barely taken a breath when he felt his arm grabbed and his body twisting. Before he knew it, he was being held from behind, his arms pulled back in an iron grip and a knee pressed firmly against the small of his back.
Matthew held on for half a beat extra, then released him. Not quite willing to let it go at that, Nick feinted left then spun low, sweeping his leg out to try and knock Matthew off of his feet.
Matthew, having seen the move coming, leaped over Nick's leg but dropped his feet down on either side of it, trapping Nick there. With a quick wink at Nick, Matthew twisted his legs, sending Nick falling onto his stomach with an oomph. He winced and turned his head to look up at Matthew.
Matthew was smirking down at him, his arms folded. "Like I said; you can try."
He extended his hand down to Nick. Nick stared at it for a moment, then laughed. He took the hand, accepting Matthew's help from the floor.
"That was . . . intense," Nick said, sitting back down in his chair.
Matthew grinned at him. "Just imagine if I hadn't been taking it easy on you."
The realization chilled Nick to the core.
Matthew relaxed back on the couch, sipping at his coffee as if he hadn't just thoroughly wiped the floor with Nick. "So if you've only been doing this for six months, you probably haven't done much physical training, huh?"
"Not a lot," Nick hedged. He wanted to mention how Monroe had been working with him, but something held him back. "Can I ask you something?"
Matthew spread his arms open in a welcoming gesture. "It's why you asked me here, right?"
"Right. Nick took a steadying breath. "Why did you change your last name?"
Matthew didn't appear to be expecting the question. Surprise lit his features. "I guess . . . by the time mom and dad died, they didn't really feel like my parents anymore."
"But 'Becker'?" Nick asked. "Not 'Kessler'?"
Matthew lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "It was Gran's maiden name," he said softly. "She died not long after mom and dad, and I wanted to carry a piece of her with me."
Nick felt a tug of longing for a woman he'd never met. "Can you tell me about her?" he asked. "About them both?"
Matthew smiled softly. "I'd love to," he replied.
Nick relaxed into his chair and settled in to learn about the part of his family he had never known.
end chapter 6
A/N: sorry for the delay. Lots of crazy things popping up in RL right now, but I promise I haven't forgotten about this project.
