Thanks, for the reviews and follows, guys. Sorry it's been so long since I updated. I've been getting carried away with other fics and the daily demands of, yknow, life. lol

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"Just don't try anything. I really don't want to hurt you," she said, shifting toward Wogue momentarily as she spoke, startling at a knock on the door.

She opened it, letting in two men, in.

"So," asked Nick, "What exactly's going on?"

"These men attacked Monroe in the front yard. We uh, stopped them," she explained.

"I can see that," Hank said "So, what's the deal with them, and what do you want to do with them?"

"Well, they seem to function a lot like the traditional Grimm, the decapitares," she replied.

"What, decapitaters?" Sam said.

"You speak Latin?" She asked, her voice revealing a hint of surprise. So not just yahoos who roamed the countryside killing indiscriminately—they were at least educated?

"Oh, I took some in college." Sam said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, and it's also pretty handy in exorcisms." Dean cut in.

"What for, like, demonic possession?" she asked.

"Yep."

"You called my fiancee a demon earlier. Does that mean you were trying to—"

"Exorcize him? Yeah."

"So you—you came here, broke into our house, to try to exorcize a Blutbad?" She half scoffed as she spoke.

"Yeah, pretty much," Dean shrugged.

"We had no idea, we really did think he was possessed," Sam offered.

"So then you tried to kill him." Nick was nonplussed.

"No, he attacked us and turned into the werewolf thing. Then we had to defend ourselves. I mean, have you ever been charged by a monster? It's not pretty!"

"They're not monsters, they're Wessen, and they're my friends," Nick corrected him.

"Yeah, well, excuse us for trying to save his ass from what looked like a demon, OK? Coz if he was and we let it go unchecked, you'd all be dead right now!" the older hunter snapped.

"What my brother's trying to say," Sam said, "Is we really didn't know. We thought he was going to hurt somebody. We really were just trying to help. It's kind of our job."

"Yeah, well, you still broke into our house," a voice cut in from the doorway to the other room.

"You! Just—stay back," Dean barked.

"Or what? You'll glare me to death?" Monroe replied.

"No, no, you really need to go lie back down," Rosalee said, rushing to his side as he limped across the room toward a chair.

"They did break in here, I would kind of like to know why."

"OK. Just—don't—don't get too worked up. You need to save your energy, to heal."

"I'll do my best not to."

"I know." she smiled.

"So you really do believe in demons?" Nick asked.

"Believe in them? Are you kidding me? They're nasty sons of bitches. We've fought dozens, maybe hundreds of them. Ganked and exorcized, just as many."

"If I wasn't a Grimm, I'd say you were crazy, but you're not. But crazy or not, you attacked my friend who was just minding his own business because you

thought he was one of these demons. Who's to say what all those others you took for demons might have been Wessen?"

"Trust me, they were demons."

"Yeah, but you made the mistake here, and now, and I'm glad we caught you. I can't let you go if you're going around terrorizing the Wessen community."

"Look! Your Wessen things, this is the first time I've heard of them. But we've been dealing with demons all our lives! They killed our mother! So trust me, we know demons."

"I can't take that chance."

"Ugh! What do we have to do to prove it to you?!"

"Y'know, Dean, we could show them—"

"Show us what?" Monroe cut in.

"We could show you a demon." Dean said smugly.

"Say, if we were to let you do that. What does it involve?" Nick said, crossing his arms, a skeptical look on his face.

"Aw, just a little hoodoo in a box, a crossroads, and some spray paint, and you've got yourselves a decent mid-ranking demon. Nothing too impressive." He said nonchalantly.

"Where do you plan to get all that?" Hank asked.

"Easy. It's in our car."

"And I thought the trailer was weird," Hank chuckled, grinning at Nick, who smiled a little back.

"What, you have a trailer? For your…Grim operations or something?" Dean asked.

"What's it got in it?" Sam prodded, interest piqued.

"Books. Lots of old books. And that's all you need to know."

"What, like lore?" Dean scoffed.

"You mean folklore? Actually, yeah."

"Wow, I'd love to see that." Sam's frown changed to a small smile.

"OK, one thing at the time," Monroe interrupted, frowning, his eyes turning red.

"Yeah, y'know what? Monroe's right. Prove to us you aren't just making all this up, to cover for killing Wessen, then we might talk." Nick said.

"OK, deal!" The younger hunter replied eagerly.