Nick didn't know what to do. The last hours seemed like millenias to him. He'd never expected to witness someone else, a real person, not a fictional character in a movie or book, would be tortured in front of him. He felt so helpless and guilty after he had watched nearly the entire time. Twice he thought his stomach would jump out of his body, while Franz did things to that poor victim, Klaus, Nick never expected were even possible.

Now he was alone up there, with the possibly dead Klaus still hanging at the other pillar, blinded now after Franz pulled the only still existing eye out of its socket. The eyeball was still hanging down the bloody cheek by a single, gory nerve. Nick felt sick.

Yes, he'd seen a lot as a cop, first as an officer on the streets, later as a homicide detective. True, he'd also seen a lot of not-so-good looking victims but this was different and he wasn't able to stay out of it, no matter if he himself was forced to watch or not. He was here and somehow he had had to find a way to protect Klaus. But a knife at his own throat, and Hans' other big hand at his head made it nearly impossible to do anything other than witness what was happening before his eyes.

Nick was positive Eric wouldn't agree to go this far with him. Not now, maybe later. Right now Eric wanted him alive and neat looking, as healthy as a horse. Sothe Grimm was reassured that no one would pull his eyes out of his face or cut off his ears or scalp him or anything else visible. But there still was enough of his body to hurt, and more such "examples" to come to let him feel guilty and sick. Until he gave in and killed Adalind.

Adalind. Didn't she deserve to die? She had brought so much pain and trouble into his life, risked Juliette's, and tried to kill Aunt Marie and Hank. Wu, as the collateral damage back then, sprang into Nick's mind. The good soul of the precinct ...

"You are the Grimm, aren't you?" a croaky, only barely recognizable voice asked, barely loud enough to echo in the circular chamber. Nick was sure, usually he had overheard it.

He looked to the fataly wounded Wesen at the other pillar, trying not to stare at the dangling eyeball. "I am a Grimm, yes. But I'm not going to hurt you," he answered. "I mean, I wish I could help you."

"I knew I was dead the moment the Hundjager came into my house," Klaus told him weakly. Slowly, he lifted his head, only a little bit as it had to be a huge effort for him to do. "No, you are the Portland-Grimm, right? The son of Reed and Kelly Burkhardt."

Nick frowned. "You've heard of me?" he asked, blinking. "You knew my parents?"

The bloody lips were lifted in the corners. "I knew your father. He was a brave man. Looks like you would come after him."

Nick smiled back, sad and sympathetic.

Klaus' head fell back on his chest. His breathing was detectable now, and Nick could see the shuddering rise and fall of his chest. He had seen this before, Nick remembered. Not often, and he always was more than grateful when he only had to deal with the body afterwards. But these were the last minutes, the last, painful breaths before Klaus died.

"Don't give up," a whisper, nothing more.

Nick looked at the other man. "What?" he asked.

"Don't give up, Grimm. You are a better soul than anyone here. Reed never gave up, that made him special," Klaus told him.

Nick frowned. "You should rest and stop talking," he said, as much as he would like to learn more. He remembered his father, yes, as someone only barely at home but a very kind and grounded person when he was around. Nick remembered him as someone he looked up to during his childhood.

"I don't have much time anymore, Grimm," Klaus whispered, "and there is still so much for you to learn. You are very valuable, for both sides. You have to choose wisely. And you have to stay pure. As long as you haven't killed an innocent, no Royal really has any power over you. Do you hear me?"

Nick's brow furrowed.

Kill an innocent? He didn't want to kill an innocent.

If Eric would force him into killing Adalind, he would, he realized. The real question was, why Eric wanted Adalind dead after he talked about her as his fiance?

"I'm a captive, like you," Nick said softly. "I cannot do anything."

"Follow your heart ..."

One long - too long, never-ending for Nick's ears - breath emitted from Klaus' lungs, while his body relaxed completely.

Nick stared at the Wesen, tears in his eyes. Tears for this near-complete stranger he had just met but who was kind to him, talking to him and warning him even as he died. Tears for being helpless, for not able to do anything to help or comfort Klaus during his last minutes, to be able to let his pain disappear. Sorrow for a good man, dying under inhumane circumstances.

Nick knew what Eric wanted to show him with this. Suddenly he knew it perfectly, and he felt bitter about it. This was another way of torture than he thought the Royal would go with him. Eric would suggest that it was he, Nick, who killed Klaus and surely others to come. Nick would see them all die, he was sure. Probably Eric would also give also the order to torture him, but Nick wasn't sure anymore. Not after what the Royal really had in mind for him.

No, as long as he was needed, he would probably be safe. The moment he lost this state, he would be in danger.

Nick felt so bitter about this heartless, pointless death, he really wished he was free and had a weapon. He would use it, oh yes, he would hit Franz into hell, he was sure.

Blood was still dripping from the face-wound down on the the ground, the only sound besides Nick's breathing. He still looked at Klaus' body in hope to find a sign of life. But there was nothing. Still nothing. No one could hold his breath this long.

Suddenly there spawned a deep hatred inside him, and he could feel the door to the deepest roots of his inheritage open. While tears still ran down his cheeks, he leaned his head at the pillar and began to scream in helpless anger and pain. He screamed and screamed until he didn't had any breath in his lungs anymore.

And then the door opened and he heard steps coming up to him.

"Hey, look at that! That little guy is dead!" Franz told his friend and passed Nick without even recognizing him to check on Klaus.

"He just died," Nick told them with a throaty voice. He felt like he could chew through the pillar he was manacled to "What else you want to do to him now? You cannot kill him twice!"

Hans showed up at his side. Leaning against the pillar, he watched Nick very closely before he started to laugh.

"Look at that, buddy! Shorty here is crying – for a damned little Eisbiber!" Hans bawled.

"Are you serious?" Franz turned around, staring at Nick.

Hans grabbed the younger man by his chin and lifted his face. "I don't think this is sweat. Whatcha think?"

Franz came closer, grinning. "Cute!" he decided. "And you are sure you're a Grimm? You are a shame to our kind!"

Nick stared up to Franz, moved his eyes as far as he could to Hans.

Did he say, to our kind? It wasn't possible ...

No, these clowns weren't Wesen. They were Grimm! Just like him! Grimm!

Suddenly, Nick felt really sick.

Yes, he'd known about that Grimm in Europe still were working for the Royals. Surely he did. And he also knew the most, maybe all Grimm were hunting Wesen, just like he did. The only difference was, he only hunted down the bad ones, like Aunt Marie had told him to before she died.

It was always a challenge, especially during the three months on Juliette's couch, when he was getting angrier day by day, seeing the love of his life drifting away from him. He had felt, really felt, what it was what he had inherited. He was a hunter, centuries of hounding and killing drilled into his genes, running through his veins as thickly as blood.

But this was the first time ever he had met other Grimm besides his mother or Aunt Marie. Wasn't this supposed to be a friendly meeting? Instead he was a captive, bound to a pillar, two of his own kind making fun of him.

"I'm not a shame for my kin," Nick finally said, baring his teeth. "I'm probably a better Grimm than you two put together. Look at me! I'm tied up. What about you two, huh? Would you take on me if I was free? What do you think?"

"You'd better shut up, Shorty," Franz told him, tapping with one finger at Nick's chest like Eric did it last night. "It won't take too long to prepare you, believe me. You are not the first one we've to work on."

"Why did you tell him that?" Hans demanded, giving his companion a slide shove. Grabbing Nick's arms, he waited until Franz opened the locks. "Move, Thomas!" he ordered then, twisting Nick's arms behind his back.

Nick heard the handcuffs close around his wrists, this time behind his back. A moment later, there was also that sack from the morning pulled over his head again.

Was it possible that Hans and Franz didn't blindfolded him to keep him helpless but to hide his face from others?

Nick wasn't sure. But after what Klaus had told him before his death, it was possible. And that could mean help was closer than he thought before ...

Sean was busy with the new cases. For some reason if was like he never had enough detectives since the Grimm went missing. Surely not Nick's fault but it was annoying to manage the precinct now. And because the only way of getting someone to take over for Nick would be to send an MIA-note to the commissioner, Sean would have had a pretty difficult time himself explaining how one of his detectives had gone missing while the rest of the precinct, including himself, didn't know about what he was doing. So Sean had no other choice but to join his crew and take over some of the cases himself.

But he had to confess, he wasn't that good anymore in investigating. Maybe he never was, as his way to the top of a precinct was more the political one than claiming success on success. He was good in solving problems and also in having an ear for his force. But unfortunately not in solving and closing cases.

Maybe, now, after two months without any sign, he should fill the MIA-note. It would probably also help Juliette with dealing with this loss.

It was hard to believe that Nick might be gone forever and would never come back. Even harder because Sean felt responsible for the young man. He should have told him earlier, he should have revealed himself to Nick long before he did. He never should have tried to fulfil the family business with killing Nick's aunt. That was something Sean still did not fully understood. True, Marie Kessler had one of the last missing three keys, which she had given to her nephew. But she was also a Grimm, a very effective Grimm after all he had heard about her.

His family always had tried to deal with Grimm in a special way. Whether or not they were the first in the agreement to recruit Grimm into their own forces, this was not completely clear. There never was a problem with the Grimm, not after the first Key-Grimm died. So what was going on here?

Sean wished he could have asked Nick. At the very least they both should have put their knowledge together to get a root for cooperation. Instead, he lost one and a half years before he was finally caught in a corner he only could get out of by revealing his true nature. After that, he never fully trusted Nick anymore, and Nick himself had told him the same.

How could the life of one person change an entire city?

In Nick's case, it was his efficiency, his ability to put the right ends together, and surely the other ability to read others like books. During the last two years while Nick turned more and more into the Grimm he was, the Wesen-community also changed in Portland. The majority of criminals left while the more peaceful Wesens were staying here. Now, after two months without Grimm protection, the criminal Wesen slowly came back. And there still was this damned zombie-problem!

Sean was more than busy. Instead of sitting at his desk at his office, he took over the empty table at the place of Burkhardt and Griffin. Nick's desk was empty now, his belongings in the locked drawers, his computer and telephone on Sean's new table. The keys to those drawers were held by Sean, after he called Juliette about it.

Now he was sitting at this second table, reading the last report from the forensics about a series of burglaries. The whole case smelled like Wesen and only two months ago Sean had handed it over to Nick and Hank. Now he had to deal with it himself, and he hoped he could finally find a foothold.

Of the corner of his eyes, he saw movement from the main-entrance. Not that this was so rare, the precinct always was pretty busy with people coming in or leaving. But this time Sean also heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Nick's roommate, a Blutbad, lurking into his empty office. And Juliette standing near him, looking around.

Something was different about her, Sean realized when he stood up. There was something, like a small glow, around her body.

"Juliette, Mister Monroe," Sean greeted them and stepped around Hank's empty table. "This is a surprise. What brings you here?"

Juliette looked up to him.

She was pretty, no mistake. Maybe he really had tried something after she broke up with Nick, Sean realized, if the feelings had grown the natural way. But there hadn't been natural. They were the product of hexen-magic.

"We've news," Monroe told him.

"And we need your sketch artist," Juliette said.

Sean frowned. "Why?" he asked.

"Because we are bringing something that you surely missed," Monroe said and waved at the entrance.

Sean turned around to see that woman, the owner of the Spice Shop down in the Perl, leading his missing sergeant into the precinct.

"Wu!" Sean stared at the Asian cop, then, arms akimbo, he gave Wu one of his very serious looks. "I was looking for you at your place. Where've you been?"

"Everywhere," Wu told him, shaking his head. "I had to clear my mind before I went to Juliette's."

"And there he told us something very important," Juliette ended for him with a bright smile.

Sean got a bad feeling. "About what?" he asked.

"About what happened to Nick," answered Monroe.

That was enough!

Sean took a look over his shoulder, then he gave the whole group a sign to enter his enclosed office.

Whatever happened that night, and whatever happened before, Sean was sure there was a spy in his precinct. The last thing he needed now was this spy listening to what the group had to say.

Inside the office, he closed the blinds before he turned around. Looking at the entire group, he frowned again.

"Did you witness something you didn't tell during the interrogation?" he asked Wu.

The sergeant nodded. "I saw that guy Nick mentioned before. That guy with the tophat," he answered.

The Cracher-Mortel? And Wu was standing there in front of him, not zombiefied?

Sean was impressed.

"But he saw another guy, too. And I think that's the more important thing," Monroe said.

Sean frowned again. "What other guy?" he wanted to know.

Wu looked down to the ground. "I only saw him for a second, so ... I ... I saw Nick in a coffin, sir."

Sean stared. Nick in a coffin and a Cracher-Mortel around him didn't mean Nick was dead. It only meant Nick was more dangerous than usual after said Cracher-Mortel would have zombiefied him, too.

"Tell him about that guy with the curly black hair, man. We are here to talk about that," Monroe said.

Sean startled. "Curly black hair?" he repeated.

Wu nodded. "That's the guy I only saw for a second."

Sean lifted his chin. "Curly black hair, characteristic nose, arrogant look in the eyes?" he asked. Moving to his desk, he opened one of his drawers and got an envelope out of it. He opened it and began to search the inside until he found what he was looking for. He showed a photo of his brother Eric to Wu. And Wu's eyes widened.

"That's the guy!" his sergeant told him, agitated. Monroe, Juliette and the other woman, Sean thought her last name was Calvert, looked at the picture themselves.

Sean hesitated after he put the photo back into the envelope. He looked at Wu, then at Juliette and at last at the two Wesen.

"How much does he know?" Sean asked of no one in particular.

"That's why we are here," Juliette answered. "We think it's time to bring Wu into the loop."

"Into what loop?" the sergeant wanted to know, looking bewildered. "Are you guys nowadays into some kind of weird LARP or something? What it that what happened at the container yard?"

Sean stared at Juliette. "So, I assume, you are in now, too?" he asked, ignoring his perplexed sergeant.

Juliette nodded. "I found it out to keep my mind straight," she answered. "And yes, that was why I was with Nick, Monroe and Rosalee at the container yard back then."

Sean nodded. He looked at Wu, frowning again. "I have to make a call," he finally decided. Opening one his drawers, he hesitated and finally changed his mind, closing it again without taking the prepaid cellphone from it.

"Why would your brother kidnap Nick?" Monroe asked him. "And why didn't you know about that?"

"We aren't that close. Between Eric and me, it's more like a – a competition," Sean answered. "Are you really sure you want to do this? This isn't an easy way to go," he finally asked.

"If it means we can get Nick back, we are ready for everything," Monroe answered firmly.

Sean sighed.

It could explain a lot, he decided. The false documents, the fact that Eric was traveling during the last two months to let all the rumours calm down. The murders in Europe. The other body costums in New York had found. Eric's plane starting from Portland to Tokyo, was also the opposite direction. If Eric kidnapped Nick to do whatever it was he had in mind for him, he wouldn't take an eye from him,so precious was a Grimm to him. Eric's plane wasn't searched everywhere because at the borders of North America also ended Sean's influence.

That other dead guy, who was found in New York with the name "Thomas Schirach," could be everyone. Only one thing was for sure, his flight ended in Paris, and it was in Paris that the first Royal found dead a week later.

It could also explain why this series of murders ended so abruptly. The more the zombiefied people moved about, the more their bodies starved. If there was a way to keep Nick unconscious an immobile for two months, he probably would be in a better condition, but also surely starving.

Sean looked up. "A day before the incident at the container yard, Nick had to make new photos for his badge," he explained, again opening a drawer. "You know that one set of those photos usually include four. Nick's set only had three. When I asked the photographer, he told me he'd given the entire sets to the officer who was supposed to hand them over to me." He took another little envelope and put it on the desk. "The officer who was supposed to take those photos was you, sergeant."

Wu stared at the little white envelope and began to shake his head. "But I didn't. I don't remember," he answered.

Sean nodded. "I know. Someone else took over because of your accident with Lillian O'Hara."

Monroe opened the envelope and took the remaining photos. One was used for Nick's new badge, so there were still two.

"Who took over?" Calvert wanted to know.

Renard shook his head. "I'm still trying to figure that out. But whoever it was, put one photo aside. And I think the stolen photo was meant for a false passport, or perhaps fake ID. An old friend of mine is working for my brother now, and he's also - let us say, he keeps me updated if there's anything happening in Europe. He found three files back then, one of them was empty. I told Nick and we both came to the conclusion that it was a hired assassin, here to kill him and get the key from him. Now I think it is different. That empty file was for Nick, to smuggle him out of the country. For that, they needed a photo of him. And one of his photos is missing."

"You have a spy at the precinct," Monroe said lowly.

"A spy? Are we now in James Bond? Guys, don't you think this fun has gone far enough?" Wu asked.

Sean looked at him again, sighing. "I fear you have a lot to learn, sergeant."