A/N:
Well, since you guys are all so fantastic and keep leaving these amazing reviews and keep asking for more…you're getting it! I've decided to add one more chapter after this one, well an epilogue really, to properly tie up some plot points and give this story the ending that it (and you!) deserve. I had originally intended to have this story done before the season finale (oh, that's tonight!), but then it turned into the beast it is now and that just wasn't possible.
Anyways, enjoy this chapter full of hurt!Nick and worried!Gang and lots of friendship feels. We might need this after tonight's finale…I'm already dreading what they're going to do to sink my ship S.S. Nickette (sigh). Guess we'll find out how close (or not even) my idea about the wedding was to canon…enjoy!
~TheFictionalMe!~
"Hey, looks like Hank just got here too," Rosalee told Monroe from the passenger's seat of the bug as they pulled into the driveway at Nick and Juliette's house. They parked next to Hank's police cruiser and quickly got out, waving at the detective.
"Hey guys," Hank greeted them, as they all started walking up the sidewalk towards the front door.
"I hope you like microbrews," Monroe held up the case of beer he was carrying, as Rosalee delicately balanced a tray of homemade spinach and artichoke dip in her hands. "It's definitely better than that cheap stuff Nick drinks."
"Well, in that case, I'm sure I'll love it," Hank grinned, carrying a bag of chips to go with Rosalee's dip. They climbed the stairs and stopped together on the front porch, as Monroe knocked lightly on the door.
"Ah, coming! Just a minute!" they heard Juliette call out from inside the house. A moment later, the door swung open. "Hey guys," she welcomed as she stood back to let them in, immediately plastering a tired smile on her face.
"Hey," Rosalee replied warmly, stepping through the open door to give Juliette a hug, Monroe and Hank following suit.
Juliette ushered them in and offered to take their coats. Hank shook his head, stepping forwards. "I've got these." He quickly gathered the coats and hung them on the coat rack in the corner by the door.
"Thanks," she nodded at him in thanks, pushing a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes as she surveyed her friends. "Did you guys all ride together?"
"Nah, just good timing," Monroe smiled at her, before his smile slowly fell. "So how's...everything going?"
Juliette sighed then, looking slightly flustered. "Ok. Just glad to be home."
"Well," Rosalee interrupted, not wanting the seriousness of the moment to ruin their evening, "Where should I put these?" She motioned to the dip in her hands and the beer Monroe had brought.
"I told you guys not to do that," Juliette gently scolded, a small smile returning to her face, "But on the table in the dining room is fine." She gestured to the room behind them.
"I never was a good listener," Rosalee replied lightly before she and Hank moved to distribute the chips and dips on the table and put the beer in the fridge.
Monroe stayed behind, turning back to Juliette with a smirk. "I may be the cook most of the time, but I know better than to mess with her hors d'oeuvres."
Juliette smiled up at her friend, this time a more genuine one gracing her lips. "Wasn't that the biggest thing you guys couldn't agree on for the wedding?"
"Yea, actually it was," Monroe nodded, shaking his head with laugh. "But I think we've finally come to an understanding on that front."
"That's good," Juliette chuckled at him, "I can't wait to try it." She frowned then, leaning in closer to Monroe and lowering her voice. "How are you guys doing? I can't imagine that replanning the wedding, after what happened…" she paused to clear her throat, "is easy."
"It's not," Monroe nodded in agreement, dropping his gaze. "But we're fine. She's fine. I think," he sighed, shaking his head. "We aren't going to let what happened stop us from getting married and starting the rest of our lives together."
He looked back up at Juliette. "But don't worry about us, we'll be ok. Right now, it's Nick that I'm worried about it."
"So, how is Nick?" Hank interrupted cautiously as he and Rosalee returned from putting out the appetizers on the table. Monroe and Juliette stepped apart as they turned to face them.
Juliette sighed again. "He's ok, I think. He's been sleeping since we got home this morning."
"Yea, I'm still questioning the doctor's judgment on that one," Hank shook his head. "But Nick can certainly be persistent."
"And he was determined not to spend another night in the hospital," Juliette mused, looking back at Hank knowingly. "After he broke out the story of how much he hated hospitals because of his parents dying when he was a kid, they really didn't have a choice but to release him."
Monroe snorted as they all gathered around in living room. "Leave it to the Grimm to resort to the most depressing and heartbreaking story in order to get what he wants."
Juliette smiled ruefully at that. "As much as I think he should probably still be there…I'm really glad to have him home."
"So are we," Rosalee looked at her sympathetically. "Is he in a lot of pain?"
Juliette ran a hand haphazardly through her hair. "Probably…but he won't really admit it. I basically have to force feed him any pain medication."
"Sounds like Nick," Hank grunted, shaking his head. "He has to know that we're on to him by now."
"I think he's just trying to keep us from worrying about him," Monroe added, "even if that isn't going to work. He's always worried about everyone else." He swallowed thickly as he looked at all of them. "If that wasn't who he was, he wouldn't be in the situation he's in right now."
They all silently agreed, thinking of the events of the past few weeks and how close they had come to losing Nick forever. It was a reality check, a reminder of the crazy and impossible world that they lived in, and a harsh warning that they weren't always as safe and as careful as they had once believed.
Monroe paused then, hesitantly sniffing the air, before turning to Juliette. "Not to alarm you, but I think your soufflé is burning."
It was at that exact moment that every timer in the kitchen started going off. "Oh no!" Juliette cried, bolting to the kitchen with the rest hot on her heels as she frantically ran towards the oven.
A small amount of smoke was beginning to billow out from the oven, as she hastily pulled open the door, fanning desperately with her apron. But it was no use. The soufflé was already burnt to a crisp. She pulled it out and dumped it dejectedly on to the stove top. The four friends stood there, staring forlornly at what would have been their dinner.
Juliette's shoulders slumped forwards in defeat as she looked sadly at the soufflé. The last few weeks had been pure torture, with what had happened at the wedding and Nick being in critical condition at the hospital, and all she had wanted was to give them something good amongst all of the bad that had happened.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, turning back to her friends. "Looks like I've ruined dinner."
"No, no, I'm sure it will be fine," Monroe tried to reassure her, stepping closer to inspect the burnt soufflé, unable to stop the wrinkling of his nose as the fumes hit him. "It's just a little crispy on top."
"Yea, I'm sure it's great," Hank added hastily, stepping next to Monroe. "Besides, I prefer my food a little extra done anyways."
Before Rosalee could chime in her reassurances, the smoke detector in the kitchen went off shrilly, effectively making them all cover their ears. Monroe was positive that his sensitive ear drums were going to explode.
"I've got it!"Hank yelled above the din, hastily pulling over a stool and reaching up to hit the button. They all breathed out a sigh of relief as the piercing noise finally stopped.
"Great," Juliette took off her apron and threw it next to the burnt soufflé in frustration. "Not only have I ruined dinner, but now I probably woke up Nick." She made a move towards the back stairs, but Rosalee gently grabbed her arm.
"Let me check on him," she offered, and Juliette smiled gratefully, the lines of exhaustion evident around her eyes.
"Thanks," she replied genuinely, and Rosalee nodded, heading for the stairs.
Juliette turned back to Monroe and Hank, smiling sadly. "Sorry about dinner," she said, her voice full of defeat.
"Hey, no worries," Hank reassured her. "Even if it isn't edible, I'm sure we can find a good pizza place."
"Plus, we still have the appetizer," Monroe chimed in helpfully, "and lots of beer, so it isn't a total loss."
Juliette smiled slightly at them, turning with a sigh to look back at their ruined dinner, which was still smoking slightly at the edges. "I know, I know, I just…really wanted to make this a special dinner, you know? Because of everything…" She paused, turning back to them with tears now brimming in her eyes.
"I keep reminding myself every day that he's ok, that he's getting better, but I just can't stop thinking…" she said quietly, closing her eyes tightly to keep the tears at bay. "We almost lost him this time." She opened her eyes again to regard Hank and Monroe carefully. Both of them wore equally solemn expressions at her words.
Hank stepped forwards, putting a hand on her shoulder, the same worry and pain reflected in his own eyes. "Yea. Yea we did." He pulled her into a fierce hug then, which Juliette gratefully accepted.
"But we didn't," Monroe added quietly, and Juliette pulled away from Hank to look at him. "He's still here."
"I know," Juliette whispered, stepping into Monroe's outstretched arms as well, the familiar flannel tickling her face as he pressed her close to his chest. "I know. Sorry."
"No, I'm sorry," Monroe said quietly, pulling her even tighter against him as if he could make this better for her, for all of them. "If I could trade places with him, I would, in a heartbeat."
"No Monroe," Juliette voice was muffled but firm in the flannel, "nobody wants that. I'm just so glad you're both ok. That we all are."
"Me too," Monroe sighed deeply in reply, "me too."
Nick groggily opened his eyes, blinking as his vision slowly came into focus, and he frowned as he took in his surroundings and couldn't remember for a minute where he was.
Home. He was finally home.
As his disorientation cleared, he looked around his bedroom, trying to figure out what had woken him up, and then he could hear the distant beeping of what sounded like the smoke detector going off downstairs.
He moved quickly to sit up in bed, instantly regretting the movement at the sharp agony that it caused, literally taking his breath away. He fell back against the pillows, gritting his teeth and cursing silently at himself, wondering how he could have possibly forgotten that.
Right. Gunshot wound.
"Nick?" he heard a gentle voice ask him then, as someone came cautiously into the bedroom. He opened his eyes to see Rosalee hovering hesitantly by the side of his bed, looking down at him with concern.
"…hey Rosalee," he forced a pained smile at her, and she raised an eyebrow skeptically at him.
"Do you need more pain medication?" she asked him, already holding out the prescription bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "You look like you could use some."
Nick opened his mouth to protest as he glanced up at her, but quickly closed it at the unyielding look she gave him. He sighed, knowing he wasn't going to win this particular argument.
"Yea. Thanks."
Rosalee looked almost surprised that he agreed so readily, and then smiled pleasantly, setting the bottle and glass on the nightstand. "Here, let me help you sit up."
Sitting up turned out to be its own special form of torture, but Rosalee expertly supported his back with one hand and propped up the pillows behind him with the other, before settling him back against them.
"Thanks," he nodded gratefully, pausing to catch his breath as the pain the movement caused gradually subsided.
"Here, take these," Rosalee said firmly, as she sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, holding out two pills in an outstretched hand and the glass with the other.
Nick smiled ruefully at her. "Guess I don't really get a choice in this, do I?"
"None," Rosalee smirked at him, motioning again at the pills in her open hand.
Nick sighed, eyeing the pain pills dubiously, before reaching out to reluctantly take them. He didn't miss the way Rosalee carefully studied him as he put the pills in his mouth, washing them down with the water.
He swallowed, and then jokingly opened his mouth. "See? They're gone."
"Good boy," Rosalee admonished fondly, reaching out to pat his arm. "I don't know why you have to be so stubborn about this. They will help with the pain, and there's no shame in that. You were shot, Nick. You're allowed some pain meds."
"I know that, Rosalee, but," he hesitated, looking seriously back at her, "I don't like the way they make me feel. I can't think clearly when I take them."
Rosalee furrowed her brow at his words. "That's ok. All you need to do is rest right now anyways."
Nick slowly shook his head in disagreement, wincing as he shifted against the pillows again. "No, that's just it. I can't rest, not until we know who set up the hit on Monroe and hired those two gunmen. He's still in danger until we know who's behind this. We all are."
Rosalee paused, carefully searching for the words before replying, and Nick didn't miss her trepidation. "You don't need to worry about that right now. You just need to get better."
"How can I not worry?" Nick protested. "I can't just lie here and do nothing, Rosalee. Not until this is over."
Rosalee reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it firmly as she spoke. "This was almost over before it began. I don't think I need to remind you of how close you came this time." She smiled sadly at him. "For once, let us take care of it, Nick."
Nick sighed in defeat, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the pillows. "I'm sorry, I just…I can't just sit here knowing that someone is still after Monroe." He opened his eyes to look back at her. "If we don't find out who did this, and stop them, then what I did for Monroe will all be for nothing anyways."
Rosalee frowned, a pained expression on her face. "And if you make yourself worse by pushing yourself and doing things that you're not ready for, you're just going to make us worry even more. You have to take it easy."
"Yea," Nick nodded reluctantly in agreement, "I know." He avoided her serious gaze and began studiously examining the design on the comforter on the bed as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
A heavy silence fell between them, until Nick couldn't stand it anymore. Things had been way too serious lately, a dark cloud hanging over all of them, and he was ready for it to change.
"You know," he smiled wryly as he glanced back over at her, breaking the tension, "getting shot really sucks."
A small smile spread across Rosalee's face at his words, and she couldn't suppress an understanding chuckle at that. "I imagine it does. Are the meds helping?"
Nick looked up at the ceiling for a moment, silently assessing his pain level. Surprisingly, the pain had faded to a dull throb, and it no longer felt like there was a vice squeezing unforgivably around his lungs with every breath. "I think so."
"Good," Rosalee replied. "I'll have to let Juliette know I actually got you to take them."
"You're persuasive," Nick grinned at her. "I didn't stand a chance."
Rosalee shrugged, laughing at him. "It's a talent. I mean, who else could convince Monroe to take down all those gaudy Christmas decorations?"
Nick laughed at that, pleasantly surprised that the movement didn't cause his chest to feel as though it was being ripped open for once.
Maybe the pain meds really did work.
"I'm glad you're here," he smiled warmly, squeezing her hand in return. "Is everyone else here too?"
"Yea, Hank and Monroe are downstairs with Juliette," Rosalee nodded. "Sorry, we didn't want to wake you, but there was a little fiasco in the kitchen. Everything's fine now."
"Yea, so I heard," Nick replied. "But that's ok, I should be getting up anyways. All I do lately is sleep."
"Well, you've earned it," Rosalee smiled fondly at him. "I think we all have."
Nick's smile fell at that as he thought about the others. "How's Monroe?" he asked her, carefully searching her face. He was afraid that Monroe still blamed himself for what had happened, even though he kept reassuring him that it wasn't his fault.
Rosalee frowned at that. "He's handling things better. Better then when we thought we were going to lose you."
Nick nodded slowly at her words before responding. "I don't want him to keep blaming himself for this. It wasn't his fault."
"You know that, and I know that," Rosalee sighed, running a hand through her hair, "but I think deep down, Monroe is still feeling guilty. I can't get him to talk to me about it anymore. I think he's trying to distract me with replanning the wedding. He feels like he is the reason our wedding was ruined, too."
"I need to talk to him," Nick responded, barely suppressing a grimace as he moved to get out of the bed.
"Whoa now, where do you think you're going?" Rosalee chided him, gently stopping him from getting out of the bed. "You need to rest, remember?"
"Rosalee," Nick raised his eyebrows at her, "I promise I'll take it easy, but I'm not staying in this bed any longer."
"Nick," Rosalee's tone changed, and she looked at him seriously. "Stay in bed. Otherwise, you'll never hear the end of it if you push yourself too far. Just stay here, and I'll send Monroe up to talk to you in a little bit, ok?"
"Ok," Nick grudgingly agreed, sinking back against the pillows. Rosalee patted his shoulder gently, before moving off the bed to head back downstairs. Nick reached out to catch her arm before she could move away.
"Hey, Rosalee," he started, and she turned to look back at him, "thanks. For everything."
Rosalee smiled genuinely at him. "Of course, Nick. Now get some rest."
"Yes ma'am," he smirked up at her, closing his eyes and nestling back against the pillows.
As soon as he was sure she was out of the room, he slowly peeled the covers back and made his way painstakingly out of the bed.
"I can never repay Nick for saving my life," Monroe told Juliette as she pulled back from his embrace, "but I can promise you I'll always do my best to have his back, just like he always has mine."
Juliette nodded, letting out a shaky breath as she looked at him and Hank. "I know you do, that you both do, I don't doubt that. It's just that he's always trying to save everyone else…and this time it almost got him killed."
Hank sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "Unfortunately, that's a part of the job description. Both jobs, at that. And it's a part of who Nick is."
"Yes," Juliette replied, sighing deeply, "and I love him for it. I just wish that he'd look out for himself for a change."
"That's what we're here for," Monroe motioned at the three of them, "and Rosalee. To take care of Nick, when he won't do it himself."
Juliette smiled slightly at that. "Yea, you're right. We'll just have to do a better job next time."
"A better job of what?" Rosalee asked as she rejoined them in the kitchen, pausing to frown at the burnt soufflé.
"Oh, just keeping Nick from getting in his own way," Monroe smiled knowingly, and Rosalee chuckled, coming to wrap her arms gently around him.
"And you," she added, looking up at him, and then over at Hank, "we have to keep you two from charging in blindly after him."
Monroe looked slightly chagrined, holding his hands up in mock protest. "Hey now, if we don't do it, who will?"
Hank snorted at that. "He's got a point."
Juliette smiled at them, before turning back to Rosalee. "How is he?"
"He woke up for a few minutes, and I actually got him to take some more painkillers," Rosalee replied, "but I think he might be hurting badly enough that he'll admit to needing them right now."
"Yea, he's due for another dose," Juliette glanced at her watch. "Which means it's time for dinner…I'm sorry guys."
"So pizza it is!" Hank chuckled, reaching in his pocket for his phone. "And I know just the place. What does everybody want for toppings?"
They all gathered in the kitchen, writing down their orders and handing them to Hank, and they didn't notice the extra person until a hoarse voice reached them from the stairway.
"…extra cheese on mine."
They all wheeled around to see Nick in the middle of the back staircase, leaning against the wall as if it was the only thing holding him up.
"Hey," Juliette said, rushing over to his side but Hank beat her there. "What are you doing up?"
Nick shrugged slightly, trying to suppress a groan but unable as Hank carefully helped him down to the next step. "I wanted to…see everyone." He paused to take a shaky breath before attempting the next step, turning to Hank. "I got it."
"Oh no you don't," Hank refused to relinquish the strong grip on his arm as he guided him down to the next step. "Can you just accept a little help every once in a while?"
Nick gave him a weak smile, trying to hide the grimace of pain that crossed his face as he turned back to the group. He didn't miss Rosalee frowning disapprovingly at him.
"I thought we agreed you shouldn't be getting up."
Nick managed to look slightly ashamed at her words. "Sorry Rosalee."
"Should you even be out of bed?" Monroe chided him from the bottom of the stairway as Hank slowly helped him make it the rest of the way down. Rosalee and Juliette stood behind Monroe, assessing his measured movements with watchful eyes.
Nick paused for a second at the bottom of the stairs, catching his breath, before looking back up at Monroe. "I'm ok, Monroe."
Monroe scoffed at him. "Seriously man, you aren't convincing anyone here. Need I remind you that you just got out of the hospital this morning?"
It was deathly quiet for a moment, and the audible sound of Nick wheezing as he leaned on Hank for support was just another reminder of how close he had come.
Rosalee finally interrupted the uncomfortable silence. "Why don't we go into the living room so that Nick is more comfortable?"
"That's a great idea," Juliette agreed, coming to support Nick's other side as she and Hank guided him slowly into the living room.
"Guys, I'm fine," Nick protested weakly as they steered him towards the couch. He really hated feeling so helpless.
Hank scoffed, shaking his head. "We've been over this, Nick. You got shot, and it's still not enough for you to actually admit you hurt a little?"
Nick smiled wanly over at him as they stopped in front of the couch. "Fine. I hurt a little."
"Wow, admitting it? That's a first," Monroe grumbled under his breath from where he and Rosalee were following protectively behind them.
Hank and Juliette lowered him gently onto the couch, and Nick was barely able to suppress another groan of pain as he settled against the cushions, the strain of the movements pulling at the stitches in his wound. He sat, eyes clenched shut, trying to slow his breathing for several moments as the pain radiated from his chest and spread until it was difficult to pull air into his lungs. When he finally opened his eyes, four pairs of eyes were looking expectantly down at him, concern etched deeply into their expressions.
Nick let out a long sigh. "Really, I'm fine. You can stop looking at me like that."
Truthfully, he did feel worlds better since that first day he had woken up in the hospital, but he was also moving around more at home and better able to refuse the pain medication. However, at the moment, he was immensely grateful that Rosalee had made him take them, if his worsening wheeze and shortness of breath was any indication of the shape he was in.
Juliette sat down next to him on the couch, gently kissing his cheek. "You sure make it hard not to worry about you."
He smiled ruefully back at her. "You don't have to worry, I'm on the mend." He turned to look back up at Rosalee, Monroe, and Hank as they hovered anxiously above him by the couch. "Anyways, I'm just glad you guys are all here."
"Us too," Hank replied. "Welcome home."
"It's good to see you out of the hospital," Monroe added with a tone of cynicism, "although I'm not entirely convinced that you shouldn't still be there right now."
Nick held his gaze steadily as he responded. "If you guys are going to confine me to bed rest, at least it should be my own bed. Besides, how can I be any help in finding out who put the hit out on you if I'm stuck in the hospital?"
All of them paused, before exchanging a hesitant look between the four of them. Nick furrowed his brows in confusion as no one said anything further, still exchanging anxious glances, and then Nick narrowed his eyes in realization.
"Ok," he asked suspiciously as he studied them all closely, "what's going on here?"
"Oh, you mean us?" Monroe said dumbly, avoiding direct eye contact and looking helplessly to the others.
"What do you mean?" Hank replied a little too innocently.
"No, don't. Don't keep things from me," Nick told them firmly. "Something's going on, and I want to know what it is."
"Well, I know we all agreed to wait until he was a little better, but maybe we should just tell him now," Monroe sighed, looking back down at Nick.
"Tell me what?" Nick asked, looking at them all with concern. "What's going on?"
"Yea, I think we should," Juliette added, looking back up at them from her position on the couch next to Nick. "He can handle it."
"We were going to anyways," Rosalee shrugged in agreement, "so why not now?"
"Yea, why not," Hank replied, looking slightly defeated. "He should know."
"Know what? What should I know?" Nick was growing increasingly frustrated and worried with all the secrecy. "What is it?"
"Nick," Juliette squeezed his knee in reassurance, "we know who hired the hit men at the wedding."
Nick's eyes widened at her words, and he looked back at all of them in surprise. "Ok, then who? Who was it?"
"Well, you're never going to believe this," Monroe laughed uncomfortably, "but we thought it was Captain Renard at first."
Nick stopped, completely dumbfounded at his words. "I'm sorry, what? Are you serious? The Captain?"
"Yea, seemed ridiculous to us too," Hank chuckled humorously, "but after Adalind showed up…"
"Adalind is back?" Nick interrupted, blinking in confusion. "And she's alive? And in Portland?"
"Unfortunately," Juliette muttered, as Rosalee scoffed in agreement.
"Yea, it was a surprise for us too," Monroe replied, "especially when she showed up at the hospital and basically told us that she helped set up the hit."
"Wait, just wait a second," Nick shook his head, trying to wrap his fuzzy mind (damn pain meds) around this information, "she came to you and admitted that she helped set up the hit?"
"More or less," Rosalee nodded in confirmation.
Nick furrowed his brows, trying to process everything. "Ok, so Adalind is back, and she helped to set up the hit…what does the Captain have to do with all this?"
"That is a great question," Monroe replied a little too enthusiastically, "and it deserves a great answer."
Nick looked to Hank, who seemed to be hesitating with his reply. "Well, Adalind convinced us that she and the Captain were working together, because of their child."
"So does she know that my mom has the baby?" Nick asked quickly, looking at them with concern.
"No, no, she thinks that the Resistance has the baby," Rosalee reassured him.
"But she found out that Viktor doesn't," Monroe added, "and she wasn't too happy about that. That's why she told us that she and Captain Renard wanted revenge on us for taking their kid away, and that she was able to convince him to hire the hit men. "
"And you believed her?" Nick was incredulous as he looked back at his friends.
"My thoughts exactly," Juliette murmured under her breath, squeezing Nick's knee again.
"I know, seems crazy," Monroe answered, "but we had our reasons."
"Yea. Among other things, the data we got back from the perp's phone had multiple contacts with the Captain's number," Hank replied, letting out a long sigh. "So that evidence led us to think that maybe the Captain really was involved in this mess."
"Ok," Nick replied slowly, shaking his head as he looked up at them, "so how do you know he isn't involved then? Even though that doesn't make any sense. As far as I know, he wants me on his side."
"Exactly what we thought at first," Hank replied in agreement, "but we didn't know for sure until we confronted him at his penthouse."
"Wait, wait, wait," Nick closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at them in exasperation, "you confronted him? At his penthouse?"
"Maybe not our smartest move," Monroe looked slightly chagrined, as Rosalee snorted in agreement, "but we had to find out the truth."
"Ok, ok," Nick nodded at them again, sighing deeply, "let me get this straight. Adalind shows up, tells you she was involved with the hit and that the Captain is too, to get revenge on us for sending the baby away with my mom, so you go to Renard's penthouse to demand he tell you the truth? Am I missing anything?"
"No, that just about covers most of it," Monroe chirped in reply.
"I can't believe you guys actually confronted the Captain," Nick muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He looked back at them pointedly. "You guys aren't allowed to hang out without me anymore."
"A legitimate point," Monroe shrugged, "and although I can see why you might feel that way, we did manage to figure out what's really going on."
"And the Captain's not involved in this, by the way," Hank quickly clarified, "as far as we can tell."
"So if the Captain wasn't behind the hit, then who is Adalind working with?" Nick asked seriously, looking up at them again.
"Well, you're never going to believe this…" Hank started slowly, searching for the right words.
"I still don't believe it," Monroe snorted, shaking his head.
"Guys," Nick sighed impatiently, "just tell me what you know. Please."
"Ok," Hank replied hesitantly, "the Captain helped us narrow it down to who we think could be behind all this…"
"And?" Nick encouraged him, waiting with baited breath for his reply.
"And, the thing is," Monroe sighed, looking back at him, "it looks like Eric Renard is still alive."
Nick was silent for a long moment, looking at them in shock as he tried to process everything they had just told him. Finally, he let out a deep sigh and leaned his head back against the couch in pure exhaustion, tightly closing his eyes.
"You've got to be kidding me."
TBC