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Scythed Out
Part Seven of the Mutually Assured… Series
“Where the hell have you been?”
Yes, she was furious, and, yes, her words were practically hissed, and, yes, she whipped the door open before Nick could even raise a hand to knock, and, yes, she grabbed him by the arm and yanked him - hard - inside of the house against his volition, but his taken aback and confused expression astounded Adalind. “Uh… solving a multiple homicide?”
Seriously. Were all Grimms this galling?!
“Actually,” Nick continued, brightening. “You’ll probably find this interesting.” No, she really wouldn’t, and he really needed to learn how to read a room. Or, you know, her moods. “So, this case I was working on involved four dead bodies, a Mauzhertz, and a Lausenschlange. Given what they were, you would’ve thought the Lausenschlange was the killer, right? But nope. It was the Mauzhertz, and, get this, one of his four victims? The Lausenschlange! I mean, the guy was completely certifiable, but…,” Nick must have finally taken a good look at her - eyes narrowed to slits, hands clenched into fists, posture aggressive - even poised… like she was ready for a fight, because he finally stopped talking, his own gaze widening in very delayed comprehension, “... you don’t care about any of this.”
Adalind feigned surprise, mocking him. “Really. Whatever could have given you that idea?”
“Well, you kind of look like you want to murder me right now, and the last time I actually watched you try to kill someone - my aunt, you had a smile on your face, so, if you look that mad now, you must be really pissed off.”
Monroe was off in the kitchen, getting more ice for his… everything, but Adalind still lowered her voice, because she didn’t want the Blutbad to overhear what she was about to say or Nick’s response to it. “I called you hours ago!”
“Yes,” Nick agreed, nodding slowly and dragging out that word. Obviously, he still hadn’t realized the significance of their earlier conversation. “And I told you I’d be over as soon as I could. And now I’m here.” Before she could respond, he canted his head around to look over his shoulder… like he’d actually be able to see through the walls of the house. Grimm vision was good, but it wasn’t that good. “By the way, where’s your car? When I got here a few minutes ago, I actually thought you’d already bailed on… whatever this is.”
Ignoring his question because it didn’t matter and he’d realize the answer for himself once he heard Monroe’s story, Adalind pressed him, “so, you drove straight here after you wrapped up your case?”
“Well, I mean, I went home first. There was this truck watching my house, taking photos. I called in the license plate, got an address, but didn’t get a chance to check it out today. But earlier, I received a head’s up that Juliette went herself. The truck’s owner reported her - this strange woman lurking out….”
“God, I don’t want to hear about your precious Juliette! I should have known you’d put your Kehrseite girlfriend before your… us,” Adalind accused. In that moment, she kind of hated Nick all over again, and that hatred totally eclipsed any attraction she might have felt towards him. “Your partners.” Although Nick opened his mouth to protest, Adalind talked over him. “Of course, Juliette going for a drive and turning into a stalker for the afternoon was more important than the fact that Monroe was ambushed and attacked by Reapers!”
“Wait, is he okay?” Nick reached for her, but Adalind shrugged him off and stepped back so quickly that she almost tripped over her four and half inch heels. “What happened?”
“Oh, so now you’re concerned,” she sneered.
“You just said that I needed to come over here, Adalind,” Nick fought back, for the first time that night showing some of his own aggravation and aggression. “You said nothing about Monroe being hurt.”
“Because of what we do, because of what we’ve done for you, I didn’t think it needed to be said.”
Throwing his arms up helplessly, he defended, “I’m not a mindreader!”
“Do you realize that today was only the second time I ever called you?” Adalind paused momentarily to allow Nick to consider her words. “Think about all the times that you’ve called me or Monroe and just expected us to drop everything, because you needed us. Because you asked. And we did. Now, think about the first time I called you. Why did I do that? Why would I risk everything - my reputation, my safety, our relationship - and ask you to come to me, potentially exposing our connection?”
Shoulders slumping, Nick sighed. “Because a man was dead.”
“Not only that, but I had been injured and there was a threat to our partnership.” It was only after she took a deep, calming breath through her nose that Adalind was able to continue. “So, when I called you today, I thought that it went without saying that it was important. That it was critical - perhaps even life or death. Hell, Nick, you knew. You heard it in my voice, and you asked me if I was okay.”
“And you said that you were fine!”
“Because I was; I am okay. But Monroe wasn’t, and he’s not going to be okay for a long time.”
Pushing past her so that he could walk deeper into the house, Nick chastised, “that’s what you should have told me.”
“Would it have actually changed anything?” He paused, freezing mid-step. With his back towards her, Adalind challenged, “even if you knew that Monroe had been badly hurt, would you really have prioritized him over her?” Adalind simply could not bring herself to say the Kehrseite’s name even just once more.
Quietly, Nick responded, “well, I guess we’ll never know now, will we?”
Except… wouldn’t they? Wouldn’t Adalind get the answer to her question the next time she or Monroe needed Nick, but he felt like his girlfriend needed him more? Because even if Nick didn’t realize it, what had happened to Monroe that day wasn’t a one time deal. An anomaly. Now that the Wesen world knew that the Blutbad was working with the Grimm, Monroe would be permanently walking around with a target on his back. And it would be even worse for Adalind when - and it was when at this point, she feared, not if - her partnership with the Grimm was exposed, because she wouldn’t just have Reapers coming after her; she’d have a bastard prince gunning for her head.
Following after Nick, she entered the kitchen in time to hear Monroe downplay his injuries. She didn’t contradict him, and she didn’t argue his plan to continue working with the Grimm, because Adalind was many things, but she wasn’t a hypocrite. She was livid with Nick for his lack of concern for them - practically incandescent in her rage, but that ire was fueled by hurt, not hate. Despite everything - the way their association with each other started, his distrust and her wariness, even their very natures, attraction aside, before that afternoon, Adalind had believed that she and Nick had been truly building something together, that they were starting to maybe even become friends. In choosing the Kehrsiete over her and Monroe, though, Nick had destroyed… everything in one blow.
Well, almost everything.
She and Monroe were still solid. It was only through Nick that she had met the Blutbad, so there was at least that. Maybe Adalind believed Monroe to be too forgiving… or too ruled by his male ego in not allowing even Reapers to tell him how to live his life, but she wasn’t going to stop being his friend for either of those… character flaws.
Furthermore, she had come too far, and sacrificed too much, and, frankly, changed too much to give up on the Grimm yet either. Nick the man and detective might be an inconsiderate ass, but Nick the Grimm was proving to be more of a force than she had even hoped when first suggesting they work together. His successes went beyond being a quick study. He had instincts, and he was a survivor. It didn’t matter how vexed she was or how badly he had wronged her, Adalind had instincts, too, and those instincts were still screaming at her that, if she wanted to survive whatever was coming, she needed to choose the Grimm and not Sean.
But thankfully she hadn’t revealed Sean’s identity to Nick yet! She almost did… when he was in the hospital after the Siegbarste attack. If Monroe hadn’t interrupted…. Knowing who and what Sean really was? That was Adalind’s advantage, her leverage. Once Nick found out, too, would he continue to have a use for her? If she wasn’t useful, if she didn’t serve a purpose, Adalind knew that she would be cast aside. That’s simply how the world worked. Her mother had taught her that at a young age, and it wasn’t a lesson she’d ever forget.
But, more than that, as soon as Nick learned the truth about Sean, he’d go after him. For his lies, for his deceptions, for his betrayals. Adalind had always suspected as much, but as she listened to him vow to stay away from her and Monroe - his guilt making him try on martyrdom for size, her intuition was confirmed. Somewhere along the lines, Adalind’s feelings for Sean had diminished to the point where she wondered if those feelings had simply been lust and she too unfamiliar with her own emotions to recognize the difference. So, her wanting to prevent Nick from killing Sean had nothing to do with any loyalty to the half Zauberbiest, but, instead, her caution stemmed from self-preservation.
Adalind had believed Sean’s interest in Nick rested in his desire to control a Grimm. Their kind, Zauberbiests and Hexenbiests, sought power, craved it, and what was more powerful than a Grimm, especially one that was so unaware of the Wesen world and moldable? But Sean had sent Nick into the Siegbarste case blind, obviously willing to risk the Grimm’s life. But for what? After all his jockeying and positioning, after what he had asked of her, why go to all of that trouble just to allow an ogre to bludgeon it all away? No, Nick couldn’t know about who Sean was until Adalind first figured out what Sean was all about. What was his endgame in regards to the Grimm?
Pulling Adalind from her thoughts, Monroe stepped towards the fridge, opened it, grabbed three bottles of beer, and then unlatched them one by one. He took the first for himself, gave another to Nick, and then put the last in her hands, announcing once they were all holding their drinks that he’d, “never been much of a status quo kind of guy, and next time? We’ll be ready for them.”
He held his bottle out like his words were a toast rather than a declaration, but neither she nor Nick joined him. Glancing down at the beer in disdain, Adalind squawked, “what the hell is this?”
“That,” Monroe nodded sagely, “is a primo alcoholic beverage. You can tell because of the fancy flip cap.”
She looked down at her pretty, black and white color block sheath dress with its classic neckline and voluminous crepe balloon sleeves, and then she looked back up at the two men standing across from her. But it was Nick who snagged her gaze. He didn’t say anything, but they both knew he didn’t need to for Adalind to understand him. In his gray eyes, she read an apology, a promise to try harder, to be better, a request for her patience, and it was like he was begging her to see more - to look deeper, to see… him. And, god, she was in trouble, because, even though she wasn’t sure exactly what he was trying to tell her or asking her to understand, she wanted to; she tried.
And, yes, there it was. Her attraction to him was back… just in time for Adalind to roll her eyes both away from Nick and in response to Monroe’s ridiculous assessment of his beer, lift her own bottle in the air as prompted by the Blutbad, and give in. “Oh, what the hell.” As they clinked glasses and raised the bottles to their lips, she rushed to add, “but this is only a one time thing - a gesture, if you will, because you were injured today, and I feel sorry for you.”
Monroe shrugged, uncaring of her reasons, before he took a hefty gulp, but Nick laughed, encouraging her, “just try it, Adalind. You might surprise yourself and actually like it.”
So, she did just that. And it was awful! As soon as the hoppy, yeasty brew made contact with her tongue - its bitterness then exploding outwards, she started to shake her head, denying Nick’s suggestion. She ran towards the kitchen sink so fast that she could feel the tassels on the back of her stiletto sandals flair out backwards, and her long, drop earrings danced along her neck and shoulders - their Gs representative of Gucci but, for her, a constant reminder of the Grimm whenever she wore them. Her hands made contact with the edge of the sink - the metal of her ring colliding with the metal of the sink doing nothing to drown out the laughter coming from behind her, and Adalind didn’t care about propriety when she leaned over and spit out the rancid beer, practically gagging.
Never. Again.
By the time she twirled back around, Nick was handing her a glass of red wine, and Monroe was leading them all towards the living room. “You need to get a Wesen girlfriend. And soon,” Adalind practically commanded Monroe. “Because I’m really starting to feel the hormone imbalance within this group.” Typically, Adalind preferred the company of men. There was less… competition that way. But, in this situation, she wasn’t looking for company but for a little refinement, a little taste, and maybe even a little sympathy. Monroe was quite evolved for a man and a Blutbad, but he wasn’t that evolved.
On her way out of the kitchen, Adalind grabbed Monroe's ice pack, knowing her friend would just send her… or, at least, he would attempt to send her for it later, but she would push the task off onto Nick, so why not just be proactive and take it with them now? As they settled into comfortable furniture, there seemed to be a silent agreement between them all that they were done discussing Monroe’s attack, and the Reapers, and even Nick’s mistakes that day. Instead, they allowed the Grimm to regale them with the story of his latest case.
One glass of wine turned into two, and then Adalind was nodding off when Nick quietly leaned down and said, “come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“No,” Adalind argued, pushing to her feet and reaching for her peekaboo satchel. “I took a cab here to be discreet. People can’t continue to see a Hexenbiest’s car parked outside of a Blutbad’s house. And I’ll take a cab home.”
“Please,” Nick insisted. “I know a cab is the more pragmatic plan. But giving a partner a lift after a rough day is what a friend would do.” She could tell that, even though he couldn’t say the words, the Grimm was attempting to apologize. He was trying to tell her that he was worried about her and Monroe; that despite having made a mistake, he did care. “And I am your friend, Adalind.”
When he put it like that, Adalind didn’t even need to consider his offer, and so, silently, she accepted it with a simple nod and a small smile.
Maybe he hadn’t destroyed them after all.