A/N: Sorry this took so long, it was supposed to go up three days ago but I didn't have the internet... Anyhow, I got the chance to tweak it a little after watching the latest episode. The latest Grimm episode in which might I add, they ignored the conversation between Renard and Nick that this is based on. I swear, sometimes, I do wonder why the writers keep throwing all these opportunities to show some good old fashioned angst. It's starting to get annoying.
"Nick, a word?"
Nick had been about to sit down at his desk in the precinct, but stood back up. Renard was standing at the door of his office and he went inside as soon as Nick acknowledged him.
So the captain wanted to talk to him on his turf, Nick mentally prepared himself for more snide comments and condescending statements regarding his lineage and heritage. Really, sometimes he missed the good old days when a call to the captain's office used to make him nervously wonder where he had screwed up.
Renard sat at his desk indicating the grimm who had arrived at his door to have a seat. He had to remind himself to not let the concern he felt at the detective's appearance show on his face. Nick's pale skin contrasted heavily with the dark circles under his eyes and there was a tired air around him, which was completely uncharacteristic for the usually energetic man. Then there was the look.
Renard recognized the haunted, wary look clouding Nick's eyes all too well. It was the look of a man who was afraid to let his guard down, who did not have anyone to cover his back and who had gotten used to living a lie. Renard had seen it enough times in the mirror.
This guilt and burden that Nick was shouldering, it had to end.
"So what is this about?" The annoyed edge in his subordinate's voice did not go unnoticed by Renard.
"I was reading through the report you wrote on the Ostler case." He started leaning back in his chair.
A defiant eyebrow rose up. "Yeah, and?"
"And it was fine. Very thoroughly done." Renard smiled. "Actually on the whole, the way you handled the case was impressive. You found a way to stop a man who was murdering in cold blood without resorting to any actual violence."
Nick couldn't stop the flare of anger in him at the comment. "Yeah, I bet that must have been disappointing to you, considering how you seem to be convinced that I am the murderer who kills in cold blood."
Renard leaned forward and looked Nick in the eye. "I never said that you are a murderer."
Nick scoffed. "Yeah, not in so many words. But you might as well have."
"Nick, I…" Renard needed to explain, this was getting ridiculous.
"No you know what?" Nick cut him off, standing up. "I don't want to hear it. First you insinuate that I discriminate between Wesen and human in the way I do things, an accusation which had you taken five minutes to actually look through the cases I've worked on which involved Wesen, you would have realized was baseless; and now you're saying that you're impressed with my course of action? You know what, you can think whatever you want, and you're entitled to your opinions, but do both of us a favour and keep them to yourself."
"Detective Burkhardt, sit down."
It must have been the no nonsense tone or the look on the captain's face, because Nick found himself obeying automatically and sitting down.
"I never said that you are a murderer. I've known of you being a grimm even before you knew it yourself and I've been following the way you deal with wesen related problems since day one. I know you to be a just policeman who tries to resolve conflicts and solve cases within the bounds of the law. I know that the only case you would kill someone is in self-defense." Renard paused, watching the anger turn into confusion.
"Then what was all that about me having killed plenty of wesen and feeling guilty only for killing a human?" Nick had honestly no idea what point lay behind the captain's words. He was conflicting himself, and that was not something he did very often.
"I only said that to provoke you into defending yourself by saying that you have never killed needlessly. That in turn would have made my case that you kill in self-defense only, and the man at the bar?" Renard waited for Nick to look at him. "That was self-defense."
"That is not the point. I instigated the fight, he reacted and then I killed him." Nick shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He got what his captain was trying to tell him, but hearing it from him hadn't lessened the pain any. "No, you don't understand. You don't know what it was like, all that anger… you didn't see what I did…"
"I saw the surveillance tape," Renard reminded him. "I do understand…"
"Then how can you say that it was self-defense!" Nick interrupted, his voice breaking. The look of utter desperation on his face convincing the captain even further that this had to be dealt with quickly. He got up from his chair and walked around the desk, coming at a pause right besides Nick chair. He leaned against the edge of his desk and waited for the detective to look at him.
"That guilt you are feeling? It's not about killing a man, not all of it. It's not even all guilt." Renard paused making sure that Nick was following. "You are scared."
He raised a hand, sensing that Nick was about to interrupt. "You are scared that you lost control. And you are scared that it will happen again and you don't know what you will do then."
"How…?" Nick trailed off, speechless. Renard had hit the proverbial needle right on the head.
"It takes one to know one. Losing control is what I worry about all the time. I've had to make decisions, order the deaths of people, even kill some myself. I don't like it. I fear that one day I would become like my brother, thriving in the suffering of others, killing for the sick pleasure and sense of power it gives. But just because I don't like it doesn't mean I won't do it. If there is a threat to those under my protection from anyone then I would deal with."
"How do you do it?" Nick's voice was barely above a whisper. "How do you stop it from eating at you?"
Renard met Nick's eyes, his intense gaze pinning the detective down and looking right through him.
"I focus on what matters. I don't go down that road. You have to walk the line between guilt and indifference, Nick, but don't ever fall on one side. The moment you do, either you will lose what makes you you, or you will end up losing your mind."
Nick was stunned. Gone was the cold and calculating man who had been manipulating him for a year. He looked at the captain now, seeing the same man who used to have all the answers once, the man whom he used to turn to back when he was a fresh policeman. Every part of him suddenly wanted to revert back to his younger self and place his complete trust in this man. He wanted someone he could talk to, someone who would understand and not think of him as a freak or a monster. He was falling, he knew that. He wanted someone to be there to catch him before it was too late.
"I… I don't know what to do," he admitted, broken.
Renard watched the man's expression as the last defensive wall he must have created in his mind broke down and he realized he was no longer talking to the grimm of Portland, renowned for his swift yet just decisions. He was looking at just a young man who had no one to turn to for answers to questions he didn't even fully comprehend. He was looking at, and finally seeing, Nick.
"Hey, hey… it's okay." Renard leaned forward grasping the younger man's shoulder. Renard wasn't one for meaningless platitudes and false reassurances usually, but some gut instinct told him that Nick needed all the comfort he could get right now. "What is it?"
"You're right. I am scared. And it's not just about losing control." Nick searched Sean's eyes, hoping he would understand. "I don't know what is happening to me. There's something wrong, I can feel it. I've changed… Ever since that night. I… I don't even think I'm human anymore." Nick looked away, ashamed.
"Nick." Renard leaned down until he was level with the detective and waited for him to look at him. "What are you talking about exactly?"
Nick shook his head, frustrated. "That is it, sir. I don't know!"
"Okay, calm down detective," Renard said in his policeman voice. "Tell me what you do know. What changes have you experienced?"
"Okay. My senses have become a lot sharper, I can hear things, and there is this feeling I get before something bad is about to happen, it's like a gut thing, but more intense, more defined… Sometimes I zone out when I am tired and a few days ago, Juliet almost called 911 because she woke up to find me sleeping with no pulse and she said that I looked… dead." Nick's breathe had caught on the last word and he was panting by the time he was done.
"Is that all?" Renard asked.
Nick blinked and then scoffed. "Is that all? Isn't it enough? I am telling you I die periodically and you ask if that's it?"
"Detective, again I would advise you to calm down," Renard cautioned the grimm who was looking at him incredulously. "What I meant was that is there any other change that you have noticed?" he clarified.
"Oh," Nick whispered, sinking back in his chair. "No, no I think that's about it."
"Then you don't have anything to worry about." Renard smiled. Nick raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Well, all that you have just described is your body adapting to your job." Renard explained. "You are a Grimm, Nick. Don't roll your eyes, I'm not done." Renard smirked at the chastened look on his detective's face. "There are certain… abilities that run through your bloodline, abilities that you have already begun to develop. You would be able to sense danger, have a lot more focus and basically all your senses would be twice as sharp as a normal man's. That's perfectly alright for a grimm."
"… And the dying part?" Nick asked, the captain's words sinking in, easing a large weight that he wasn't even aware he was carrying.
"Yes, the dying, as you put it." Renard nodded. "Also expected. Grimms live longer than normal humans, they have to until there is someone who can carry the bloodline. So their bodies adapt. They have half the metabolism rate of a human, and when they sleep they go into a temporary coma to minimize brain activity."
"So you're saying I'm not normal, but… that's normal?" Nick asked, still a little confused.
"Nobody's normal, Nick. This is Portland." Renard straightened back up, satisfied that his point had gotten across.
"You got that one right. After all we have a half royal crown prince for a police captain," Neal replied, smirking.
"Crown prince? Let's not jump to conclusions here." Renard said, smiling.
"Thank you for that, by the way," Nick said quietly, suddenly serious.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, detective," Renard said, his voice suddenly hard. Nick met his eyes, surprised at the change in tone.
"I didn't mean to…" he started but was cut off with a raised hand.
"But you can rest assured," Renard added and smiled, "any royal would think long and hard before causing trouble in Portland again."
"Understood, sir." Nick nodded and stood up to leave. "Also one more thing."
Renard raised a brow and shot the detective a questioning look.
"Next time, can you just say what you mean rather than what you think would get the desired reaction from me?" Nick asked, smiling to let the captain know that he wasn't actually upset at the latest manipulation. He wasn't sure himself if a direct approach on Renard's part would have had the same effect, but it was better that the captain knew that he realized what he had been trying.
Renard grinned. "Can't promise that, detective. After all a lifetime of grooming and training to handle situations diplomatically cannot just be ignored." Nick raised both eyebrows. "But I will do my best to be straightforward," Renard continued hastil0y, causing Nick to grin as well.
Nick was almost to the door when Renard called out. "Detective?"
Nick turned back, his hand at the door. Captain Sean Renard was back in his chair, behind his desk, looking no less regal or intimidating as a prince. Then he smiled.
"You know I've got your back, right?"
"Yes sir," Nick replied, knowing in his heart that he believed it to be true. "I know."
So that's done. What do you think?