A/N: 1) Again thanks to Merlyn Pyndragon for doing this great job on beta this story. And also thank you for the Follows and Favorites. I'm so happy that you all like this idea!
2) As Renard's spy never got a name during season 2 but I needed one I decided to stick to the real name of the actor: Christian Lagadec. So, this is highly non-canon I fear but at least, well, he got a little background as he turned out during season 2 as my favourite supporting character. I hope you don't mind me :).
When the door to his cell opened, Nick barely looked up. Again he was sitting on his bed, his back to the wall, his feet on the bedframe.
Klaus' wretched face loomed in his minds eye now and then, which didn't let him sleep or find a little rest.
Eric lifted an eyebrow after his captive didn't react to his presence.
"Hard day, my sweet Grimm?" he finally asked, destroying the silence.
The muscles in Nick's cheeks began to work and finally he nodded. "You were there, too," he said, looking up to the Royal. "What now? Do you want to torture me to death, too? I'm not giving in, I'm not killing Adalind. No matter what she did to me, she has already had paid the price."
Eric stepped closer. Pulling his right hand out of his trousers, he showed Nick a small key. "I came here to offer you a bath and some clothes to change. But if you are not interested -"
Nick frowned. "A bath?" he repeated. "What you have in mind there for me?"
"Some hot water and soap. You understand, a razorblade is a little too tricky right now. But if you like, I think Hans could do it. The way he held the knife on your throat gave me the impression he could probably be an awesome barber. Don't you think?"
Nick stared at the Royal. Was this guy crazy?
Eric grinned and put the key back in the pocket. "Offer is still available. Well, as long as I am here. When I leave you will spend another night in your old clothes. No offence but ... you know, it's summer and I think you are probably sweating like a pig in your windbreaker." He sat down, close to Nick on the bed, and looked at his captive, thoughtful. "I've also heard you don't want to eat. That's not good for you, especially after two months of nothing. Your system needs some fuel, you know?"
"I'm not hungry, thanks," Nick said tightly.
He was, good God. He was starving! But one look at the mush that was now being served to him for the second time and he felt more than full.
Eric looked at him, frowning. "What about a real dinner? Something like ... don't know. What are you Americans usually eating? Burgers and fries? Sandwiches?"
"I'm not hungry," Nick repeated but his stomach betrayed him with a loud, gargling yowl of protest.
Eric smirked. "Oh, really?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. "So, what about a dinner and a bath afterwards. Or before, just like you want?"
Nick looked at the Royal at his side suspiciously. "And what price do I have to pay for this?" he finally asked.
Eric shrugged. "I'm only trying to make it easier for you, you know?"
"Easier? What? That I'm your prisoner and you are going to break my will or kill me?" Nick spat out. It felt good to say that, oh so good! He felt like he'd taken at least a little revenge for that poor guy Klaus.
Eric's eyebrow was lifted again, this time the other one.
"What do you want from me? You already have two Grimm. Why me when you are not interested in the key?" Nick stood up and turned around, Eric still eyeing him. He walked to the other side of the cell, putting distance between them.
Klaus' last moments, seeing him dying horribly, painfully without being able to do anything but offer words of consolation. This still hurt deep in his chest and somewhere during this process, Nick lost the distance to this all. True, it was personal from the very first moment. But this, this was much more personal than everything that happened before since Aunt Marie died two years ago.
Eric watched him with docile interest, leaning back comfortably. At last he began to grin again. "This is fascinating! The first time I have ever witnessed a Grimm taking care for something other than himself" he said.
Nick stared at him. "What am I to you? An object for study?" He frowned, desperately trying to keep at least a little of the control. But it was hard.
True, it wasn't the first time Nick witnessed someone dying before his eyes. But it was the first time he witnessed the initation of a kill. And that made him sick, beside the fact that he felt guilty for the barbarism of his own kind.
Nick was proud of his inheritage, and so far he didn't want to lose his abilities. Not the fighting skills so much, but he couldn't imagine losing the special sight the Grimm. He loved the diversity among the humans. Not only did it make it sometimes easier to solve a crime, but the sheer beauty of the variations gave him a new, intriguing outlook of life itself. And he always thought something familiar had happened to his aunt to make her stop hunting down every Wesen on sight, like his mother did last year. True, sometimes it was necessary but Nick still had hopes that the Wesen as well as others of his own kind would finally understand that they didn't have to kill each other in order to survive. That was what he'd tried during the last two years in Portland. And sometimes, especially during the time of Juliette's memory-loss, it was pretty difficult for him to keep control. But he'd never expected to meet others of his own kind acting like Hans and Franz. Malevolent, sardistic monsters.
"You," Eric finally said and broke the spell keeping him in his own thoughts. "it is quite interesting to watch you and your struggles to accept what you really are. Your kind are killers, warriors, henchmen. You are the Bogeyman's Bogeyman. You claimed you are not a housepet. So ... what do you think you are?"
Nick stared at him again. "What?" he asked, confused.
Eric shrugged. "Tell me what you think you are. Maybe we will come to a conclusion then," he said.
"Are you serious? You and Franz just killed a man in one of the most painful ways I've ever seen. I'm a detective! Usually it should be you locked away in a cell and handcuffed! And I would seriously never make any fun of you!"
Eric began to laugh. "You are really thinking this, right? You are so deeply in love with your former job, it is hilarious!"
"At least I know the difference between right and wrong!" Nick snapped.
In the next moment Eric was up on his feet, closed the distance between the two of them and pinned Nick against the wall with one arm. His voice grew low and cold.
"I have been generous to you and so far very, very patient, my dear Grimm. But don't talk about things you don't understand! Do you hear me? I came here to offer you some kindness after a pretty hard day. When I want to hear any complaints I only have to read the latest pamphlet from the Laeufer."
"Has it ever crossed your mind that the Laeufer could be right?" Nick teased, staring the Royal right in the eye.
Eric's fist met his stomach so hard that Nick's breath was forced out of his lungs, leaving him gasping raggedly.
"Never, do you hear me?" Eric repeated. "Never talk to me this way again! I am your master and you are my servant from now on. Do you understand, my sweet Grimm?"
Nick swallowed some air and he tried his best to ignore the scratching in his throat. "Then you'd better kill me now! I will never work for you! And I will never kill for you!" His voice sounded coarse and parched.
Eric stared at him, now very serious, a fiery glint in his eyes suggesting that Nick had gone too far.
"I'll tell you what I will do, my dear Grimm," Eric told him with dangerously low voice. A cold grin was growing on his lips. "I'll give you a special lesson that you will hopefully keep in mind for the future."
Nick pressed his teeth together, trying not to show the fear he felt.
"Hans! Franz!" Eric yelled over his shoulder. "I need a cask, water and some of the food for our special guest. Now!"
Nick tried to break free, yelling a very angry. "No!"
"You wanted it, sweet Grimm," Eric told him, still holding him tight against the wall while the door opened. "Now you will get your first lesson. And you will never forget it, I swear to you!"
Eric's fingers sized hold of Nick's jacket. And suddenly the young Grimm realized what the special ability of a Royal probably was. He didn't have a chance against Eric's power when he was pushed down on his knees.
The thick and usually cold stone walls weren't able to hold back the summer heat this year, which made it difficult to find the right position in his bed and enjoy a little sleep. The thick duvet he was using usually was lying on the chair, where at other times his clothes were waiting for him.
His room was more than small. Tt was more of a broom cabinet. But he felt safe in here. Much safer than in the rest of the castle, especially during the last two days. Whatever had bitten him, Prince Eric was everything but relaxed right now. He disappeared for hours only to come back with a dark look in his eyes, distracted from what usual his job was.
Christian just felt asleep when his cellphone began to buzz and dance on his night-stand. For a moment he watched this dance before he finally took the cell and looked at the screen. What he read there made his face pale. And with a nervous look around, as though someone might be in there with him, he accepted the call.
"Qui?" he asked. "I hope you remember what I said about who would do the next call."
"I do, actually. But it's becoming more and more evident that the Grimm is somewhere in Europe under Eric's control," Sean Renard's voice answered. "So don't mind me when I'm concerned about what is going on with you."
Christian took another look around, then finally stood up to lock the door before returning to his bed and grabbing the cell again.
"I'm alone," he answered finally.
A relieved sigh from the other end of the line. "That's good. Is is safe?"
"It is. What is this about the Grimm?" Christian asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"I have new information. It looks like Eric has had the Grimm the whole time."
"What?" Christian was confused. "Seriously, I don't know. The prince seems to be ... different right now. One moment he's very self-confident, the other minute not."
"I understand," Sean's voice answered. "Are you able to check that out for me?"
"I have to act very careful and – I don't know," Christian answered. "I was more busy finding out who the mother of that Royal baby will be."
"Do you know yet?"
Christian hesitated again. "My source disappeared," he finally answered. "But I've been in contact with a servant at one of the hotels in Vienna. He told me the woman I got the information from paid a lot of visits to one guest, a young woman. Logically I wanted to try to get in contact with her. Maybe she is the mother."
"Probably the Grimm is more important right now. Eric won't stop until he has killed or broken him," the voice reminded him. "I don't think I have to mention what this Grimm would mean to us and our plans for the future."
Christian hesitated again.
For a while now he had the impression that Prince Eric probably knew about the spy in his castle. He hoped the Royal wouldn't have a clue that it was him but he acted twice as careful as normal since his other contacts were killed during the last half of a year. As a half Maushertz, he was good in hiding, unfortunately this side of him also took a lot of his own courage away. But he knew he had done a lot for his friend and prince far away in Portland. And he would do more. He trusted Sean, he looked up to him and he believed in Sean's plan to stabilize the powers of both worlds.
"I will try. But this will be double tricky I fear. If your brother really holds the Grimm, he is very careful about keeping it a secret. And as he's still into something I don't know, I'm not sure if I can find out anything," Christian told his caller. "It is easier right now to work on the case of the new Royal than on the Grimm. Everyone is interested in this Grimm. If the prince really has him I don't see how I can help him flee or bring him back to America."
"First find out, then we will talk about how to bring him back here. For now, we have to find out about his condition and if he is still alive. Two months is a lot of time to do some permanent damage to him or kill him."
This was true, and especially Prince Eric wouldn't hesitate to do anything to the Grimm.
Christian bit his lips while he thought the situation through. He didn't have any evidence but he knew the prince was up to something. Something that could also be about this Grimm.
"I will call you when I find out something," he said.
"You need to be careful and fast. Especially about the Grimm. You hear me?"
Not that he didn't know that before.
"Will do," Christian answered.
"And if you find him, you should tell him that there's a surprise waiting for him in Portland," Sean told him. "Maybe that will give him some hope and the will to fight, no matter how wounded he could be."
Wounded? Oh dear, please not!
The call ended from the other side and Christian lowered his arm, staring on the still illuminated display.
He wasn't a hero, he only was good in spying on others. But now, he feared, it was time for the mouse inside him to begin to roar ...
Hank was tired when he finally got home. He felt as exhausted as he did nearly every evening over the past few months. True, that started long before his partner went missing, but he still had cause to blame Nick.
Blaming his partner wasn't exactly the best base for a working partnership. That was why Hank was more than lucky when he was on vacation and had his accident with the knee. Afterwards, when he was back at the precinct but only barely able to do his work, he watched Nick. Maybe with other eyes than before because finally he got the distance he needed.
To be true, it never was easy or fun for him to get along with the knowledge about Wesen and Grimm. He never trusted Monroe, not before when he thought the guy was nuts, and not after he learned about the second nature of Nick's unusual friend. Same for Rosalee. While he thought she was nice, he never trusted her completely. And Nick? Man, how often did he have to hold his partner back from killing someone?
So no, Hank was lucky that he wasn't that involved into this whole weird story anymore. He needed to feel safe and thusfar had been able to manage everything. Both things he never felt while he was in Nick's Grimm-Gang.
He felt sorry for Juliette, who was going through a much worse situation than he. But to call her would have meant to get involved into this whole madness again, and Hank was more than grateful only have to deal with the captain after that crazy night at the container yard.
Maybe this wasn't the first time this thought crossed his mind. Maybe he should think about a change in his job-life as he'd been through one in his personal life. Maybe he should try to get transferred to another precinct. He only felt a little sorry for Wu, who would stay there all on his own if Hank left. If Wu ever came back to duty. Maybe the sergeant has snapped and they would find him somewhere down the Columbia-River, who knew?
Hank parked his car in front of the house and looked through the passenger window up to it. A dark shadow crossed the illuminated front-window. A smile grew on Hank's lips.
This time he was sure, he'd met the right woman. Constance was kind and sweet and sexy, intelligent and shared his sense of humour along with his addiction to the Portland Timbers.
Hank never thought he would feel this way again, but this time he was really sure he had found the right woman to fall for. He had already planned to make a proposal, after only two months of knowing each other. But he only felt ... this was a perfect match!
Hank left his car and took the steps up to the front door, searching his keys. He already lived here with Constance. He only barely was at his place anymore. Too many bad memories and still those three holes in his closet reminded him of times he wanted to leave.
When he opened the door the smell of food surrounded him. Good food like his mother used to make so many years ago.
"I'm home, Stanza!" Hank yelled, putting his keys on the key holder and then his badge and his gun on a cabinet near the door.
Constance, beautiful looking with her messy hair, reddened cheeks from leaning over the hot oven, wearing a pinafore over her jeans and shirt, peeked around the corner of the living room and smiled at him. "Evening, O-leg. How was duty?"
"Busy." At last Hank got rid of his jacket before he came over into her kitchen, still sniffing the air.
Constance stood at a pan, shelling some shrimp.
"Smells promising," Hank said, setting himself up behind her. He entwined his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. "Just like you."
"I'm sweaty," Constance protested but began to giggle, winding a little against his tickling fingers before she gave in. "Do you want me to burn the prawns?" she asked.
Hank stole a small kiss from her lips before he let her go. "Seriously not. You are way too good a cook," he answered.
Constance smiled, turning around to him after she put the shrimp into another pot the mouthwatering smell came from. She put her hands on his shoulders and, standing on her toes, she wanted the kiss back what he had just stolen from her. This price Hank paid only too wilfully!
It felt good to have someone around, someone normal, someone not included in this weird world Nick had dragged him into. And Constance was such a grounded person too. He didn't want to lose her.
After they separated she looked up to him with a very serious face. "So, tell me," she asked, "did you do your exercises during the day just like I told you?"
Hank grinned. "I tried," he answered softly, "but maybe I missed one lesson."
Constance looked at him with this half-closed eyes, driving him crazy just like every other time she gazed at him this way. "Then we have to remedy that immediately," she decided. "Not that your recovering will stop on the wrong level."
"This I definitely don't want," Hank told her, stepping backwards. "What I have to do?"
"Setting up the dinner table for once. The next exercise will follow soon," Constance told him.
"Yes, ma'am." Hank turned around to open the first cabinet door to get some dishes. He didn't see Constance morphing for a second.
She watched him with glowing eyes before she changed back into her human self. Turning around, she leaned over the pot with the food, watching the ingredients carefully.