Archive of Our Own

Nick had seen Juliette die once before. But that had been different. 

There wasn’t the impending doom of knowing that all his family and friends would be picked off eventually. 

There wasn’t the threat of a world ending entity hunting him down. 

And most of all, this time there’s no secret government organisation to bring her back miraculously. 

He’s more aware, this time around, that she’s not coming back. She’s going to die here, in his arms. 

“Juliette.” He chokes out. 

Because she’s not dying as Eve, he won’t let her. Not after all they’ve been through.

“No regrets.” She says. 

It’s the same sentiment she shared when they were in the mirror. When he was scared and protective and suddenly reminded of when he was first thrust into this world, and his only mission was to make sure Juliette remained out of the line of fire so he could marry her one day. 

But it’s not a true sentiment. It might be for her, but not for him. He has more regrets than he knows what to do with. 

He regrets not telling her sooner about him being a grimm. He regrets not being there for her when she became a hexenbiest. He regrets how everything ended between them.

He regrets letting her die the first time. And pretty soon he’s going to regret letting her die this time too.

She’s still beautiful. Tragically so, of course, because she’s dying. But she really hasn’t aged a day since they were last in this position. God knows she’s been through enough stress to warrant it.

For a fleeting moment, Nick forgets the outside world. He forgets about Adalind and his son and what his friends would say if they were watching him. 

He forgets everything, except how much he wants to kiss his girlfriend. He’s suddenly twenty-nine again, twenty-nine and in love with who he thinks is his soulmate.

He leans in, and catches a glimpse of Juliette’s shocked face right before he closes his eyes and presses his lips to hers. She kisses back, maybe instinctively, maybe not. His nails dig ever so slightly into her skin as he cradles her face like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the world.

Then she goes limp. 

She’s dead. 

Again. 

His heart sinks to his stomach.

Again. 

Tears stream down to where they had only just stopped spilling.

Everything after that is a blur of screaming and smashing things, as if it would rid him of the burning settled in his hollow chest. When he’s done with the spice shop, it looks like what his worst nightmare used to be: Juliette’s body, surrounded by the damage of a fight that he wasn’t there to protect her in.

Except he was there. 

He failed her. For the second time. 

He barely acknowledges the fact he’s moving as he gets into his car and drives to the cabin. It’s as though all colour is gone from the world. 

Telling everyone else that she’s dead feels like being shot.

The rest of the night feels like someone has forced him to swallow a shard of glass.

When everything resets, it’s like someone has switched a light on. 

He kisses Adalind with all he can muster. He saw her die, he should be aching for her, should be kissing her like a dying man fighting for breath.

But it’s Juliette that he runs to next. It’s Juliette that he hugs with more passion than he’s ever kissed Adalind with. It’s Juliette’s name that every bone in his body is screaming. 

She stares at him as if he’s insane. He must look it, with how much the muscles in his face ache from smiling.

He knows he can’t hold her too long without it looking strange. She doesn’t remember that she died, or that he kissed her. She doesn’t know just how much it took for Nick to be here, to grip her shoulders with as much strength as he is. 

Everyone else gets their turn to be hugged. But not one single person slots into his arms as naturally as she does.

After the happiness at everyone being alive fades, a deep sense of guilt begins to settle into Nick.

He cheated on Adalind. Not technically, since it was reversed, and Juliette doesn’t remember it. He could take it to his grave if he wanted to. 

But the intent of it is still there. He still chose to kiss her. He’s not sure he’s ready to reckon with that yet.

The ceiling of the loft is peeling paint. Ironic, considering what it’s above. It has a tiny bit of mold dotted across it and an odd stain that might be from some form of leak that was long fixed. 

It’s easier for Nick to focus on that than it is to think about Juliette. Or Eve. Whatever her name is. 

His neck is stiff when he turns his head. He really should be sleeping, it’s been a few nights since everything went down and his head is somehow still pounding. He just can’t bring himself to, not when his unconscious presents him with broken images of Juliette every time he closes his eyes. 

Though, he supposes he doesn’t get much relief from that by staying awake.

Adalind is sleeping as soundly as ever. She’s on the right side of the bed, which is the side Nick used to sleep on. Juliette slept on the left, was insistent on it even. He never really asked why. 

It still feels weird to be on the left.

It still feels weird to be sleeping with someone else.

Juliette was supposed to be the one he woke up next to for the rest of his life. This was the life she wanted. 

But it’s Adalind who has it.

Nick isn’t sure how he feels about that.

They all hang out a lot more now. A mass slaughter of your entire friend group will do that to you. 

It’s a good thing, because it also means he gets to avoid spending time with Juliette one on one. The guilt gets too strong whenever that happens, and he quickly thinks up an excuse to get away. He can’t remember the last time he had a conversation with her that lasted more than five minutes.

He’s piling food onto his plate in Monroe and Rosalee’s kitchen. They’ve set up a sort of buffet table in there, so people can take as much food as they want and then go sit in the living room.

“Nick.”

Her voice isn’t emotionless anymore. It was always monotone when she was Eve, now it’s all too familiar in a way that makes Nick’s heart claw against his ribcage.

“Yeah?” 

“You’re blocking the chips.” She says simply.

He looks down. He is in fact blocking the chips. 

“Sorry.” He chuckles, shifting out of the way.

He busies himself with putting something on his plate. He doesn’t even check what it is.

“You okay?” She asks.

“Yeah.” He puts on his best smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Nick, we lived together for years.” She laughs. “I can tell when you’re in your head.”

There’s a moment of silence as her expression changes, like she’s searching for something in Nick’s eyes. A sense of vulnerability nestles in his stomach, making him feel like he’s being x-rayed. 

“Yeah, okay.“ He pauses, sighing heavily. “It’s just- after everything that went down, I’m thinking about things differently.”

It’s not a lie. Not really.

She places a hand on his shoulder. He jumps back like it’s hot iron. Not because he doesn’t like it, but because he likes it too much. He shouldn’t enjoy it. He has a girlfriend. And a son with said girlfriend.

“Woah, you sure you’re okay? You’re not usually this jumpy.” 

He doesn’t like lying to her. It reminds him of when he used to do it on a daily basis, and then he feels guilty for making her life go to shit.

“I’m sure.” He sighs, avoiding her eyes and turning to leave.

He doesn’t look back, because he knows he’ll have to see the hurt look in her eyes. 

When he sits back down, he takes his place next to Adalind. His girlfriend. The mother of his child. The person he’s in love with.

But he spends the rest of the night trying to pry his eyes away from Juliette.

The next time they’re alone together is a few nights later. Though, Nick doesn’t know that just yet, because he’s looking for Monroe and Rosalee.

He needs to at least tell them what happened. They’ll understand, they always do, and hopefully they’ll give Nick some advice that will make his head stop swimming and the constant nausea in his stomach to subside. 

He somehow doesn’t consider that Juliette lives at their house too, and might be the one to answer the door. So when it swings open and she’s stood there, ready for bed in a dressing gown, with her hair cascading down her shoulders in a wonderfully unkempt way, Nick is very much taken aback.

He shouldn’t find this sexy.

“Juliette.” He chokes, before clearing his throat. “Are Monroe and Rosalee there?”

“On a date.” She says simply.

“Ah.”

He shifts where he’s standing. 

“Well, did you need something? Maybe I can help you?”

“No it’s uh- it’s not important.” He sighs.

He can’t meet her eyes. He stares at the floor for what feels like days. 

“Well do you wanna come in?” She asks. “I was just about to make hot cocoa.”

He should say no. He really, really, really should-

“Yeah, okay.”

Her smile makes fireworks go off in Nick’s mind. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s walking inside the familiar warmth of the house.

Or maybe that’s just the fondness in his chest. 

Who knows.

The clinking of china sounds as she retrieves two mugs from the cabinet and starts searching for the instant hot-chocolate powder. Nick just stares at her back. She’s in pyjamas, for Christ’s sake, but his heart hammers in his chest harder than if he had a fully naked Adalind in front of him. 

He vaguely wonders if he’s going slightly insane. 

She starts filling the kettle with water. She makes it with water, oddly enough. What’s odder is that Nick actually prefers it that way. 

“How’s Kelly?” She asks as she flicks the kettle on.

“Oh yeah, fine.” He says distractedly. “He’s finally started sleeping through the night.”

“Well, that’s good.” 

“Yeah.”

The air is heavy, and the atmosphere is making Nick feel stifled by the awkwardness of it all.

His breath comes out shaky as he sighs and leans his back against the counter, face to face with her as the bubbling of the kettle fills the silence. He makes sure his body language is about as standoffish as humanly possible.

“And how’s Adalind?” She continues. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“She’s fine.” He clears his throat. “We’re uh- doing good.”

Neither one of them talks for a solid half a minute. Nick is uncomfortably aware of how much concern is evident in Juliette’s expression. 

“I know I’ve already asked you this, but are you sure you’re okay?” She questions, shifting closer to him. “You’ve been so off recently, I know seeing what you saw couldn’t have been easy but-”

“No.” He says. “No. I’m not okay.”

It feels like every worry and anxiety is pressing down on his shoulders like a ton of bricks. For what feels like the hundredth time in the past few weeks, his eyes start to feel heavy and sting around the corners. 

All that’s to say - he’s about to cry right in front of the person he’s crying about.

Nick’s hands are calloused and rough as he buries his face in them. The crevices between his fingers fill with tears and his chest fills with a deep sense of shame. Shame at the tears, and shame at why they’re flowing. 

Juliette’s hands are soft and gentle as she takes hold of his wrist and pulls it away. The sight of her face drives everything out of Nick’s mind. 

“Nick…” She intertwines their fingers. 

The kettle rumbles louder as the two stare at one another. Her lips are slightly parted, and it’s like everything else is in shadow except that sight. 

Nick’s eyes droop without asking him first, and some supernatural force is pushing his head forwards. Before he knows it, he’s barely a centimetre away from Juliette, so close he can feel her breath on his face.

“Nick?” She repeats. It’s more of a question this time, albeit a strangled one.

It would be so easy to close the distance between them, to kiss her like nothing else matters. 

But there are other things that matter. Many, many other things.

He wrenches his face far away from her as the kettle audibly comes to a boil.

She looks so very confused. It’s then that Nick realises they're both panting. She looks as though she’s about to speak, and that’s the breaking point for Nick. 

He turns without another word and refuses to look in her direction as he leaves, only vaguely hearing her protests being called from behind him.

He slams the front door, and then his car door, spending the next few minutes crying against the steering wheel. 

When he goes home, he’s obviously beat up about something, Adalind can tell that much.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.

God, he hates himself. 

“Nothing.” He chokes out. “It’s just - uh - a case. You know how they can be sometimes.”

“Hmm.” The kiss she places on his temple burns into his skin. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He says, more firmly than he means to.

Something flashes in her eyes, something like concern - or maybe anger. The guilt gnaws at his core, and so he kisses her. 

“I mean-“ He continues. “I just want to go to bed.”

“Ok.” Adalind says stiffly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He greets Kelly and lifts him out of his crib. He holds him close to his chest, cradling his head, and reminds himself of why he’s here, why he needs to stay.

He’s so incredibly selfish for doing this to his son. 

“Hello! Earth to Nick.”

“Hmm?”

Hank has both his eyebrows raised, staring across the desk at Nick as though he’s annoyed. Nick has no idea why, because he’s been staring at his own hands for the last five minutes.

“It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall over here.” Hank chuckles. 

“Sorry.” Nick replies. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you were distracted by something.” He explains. “But you’ve just answered that.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Nick hesitates. Hank is one of his best friends, and the only one who’s been married multiple times. Surely he of all people won’t be judgmental? 

“Do you think it’s possible to love two people?” Nick asks.

“Ooh, relationship trouble?” Hank questions, wincing slightly. “Do you really want me for that?”

“I think in this particular case you might be the best person for it.” Nick chuckles, despite himself.

“Well, I can only speak from my experience.” He begins. “But I’d say no. What’s that quote again? If you loved the first you wouldn’t love the second or whatever.”

“You really believe that?” 

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs. “That’s how I started dating Nadine.” 

“Yes and that turned out great.” Nick rolls his eyes. 

“But what I'm saying is that falling in love with her was what made me realise that I didn’t love Darla anymore.” He explains. “Which is why we divorced.”

Nick stares into space for a moment, reckoning with what Hank has just told him. 

It all hits him at once. He’s been going about all of this under the impression that he loves Adalind, and wants to be with her in the end. Through all of it, he’s failed to realise that maybe that’s not something he should take for granted.

“You want to tell me why you asked that?” Hank pushes.

“I-“ The words congeal in Nick’s throat, and he can’t get them out.

“Hey, no pressure.” Hank holds his hands up like someone’s aiming a gun at him. 

“I think I’m still sort of hung up on Juliette.” He feels his blood go cold as he says it, like he’s just admitted to some horrific violent crime.

“Oh.” Is all Hank offers. “And you think you’re in love with her and Adalind?”

“I don’t know.” Nick sighs. “I really don’t know.”

“Well, hey.” Hank scoots his chair closer and pats Nick on the shoulder. “My advice still stands.”

“Right.”

Nick leaves work that day with lots to think about, his head buzzing with a million questions.

He wishes he didn’t tell Hank anything now. 

“You’re avoiding me.” Juliette says. 

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. One that couldn’t be more true. 

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“Yes you do.”

He turns to face her. They’re in the basement of the spice shop, and there’s a customer upstairs. That’s where Monroe and Rosalee are, doing everything in pairs like always. Nick’s on the stairs, about to go up under the excuse of stretching his legs. He knows it’s not believable, but his mind is running on instinct, which is telling him to run as far away from her as possible. 

“Nick.” She says, stepping towards him. “Tell me what’s wrong. This is all to do with what happened - or didn’t happen - in the mirror, isn’t it?”

He sighs.

“Yes.” 

Even he thinks it’s a pathetic answer when he hears it. 

“Then talk to me!” She cries. “Stop acting like we don’t even know each other!”

He sighs heavily, wanting nothing more than to chase the hurt out of her expression. 

“When everyone was dead and I thought I’d lost you again, I-“ He rubs his hand across his face, mind racing to come up with any sort of phrasing that makes this sound better than it is.

“You what, Nick?” She half-yells. 

He can’t blame her if she’s annoyed. He’s been blowing her off for weeks. He can’t even imagine what this must be like from her perspective. 

He has to tell the truth.

“You were stabbed, and I thought you were dead for good. And I- I kissed you goodbye.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“That’s it?” She says after a while. 

He blinks.

“What do you mean, that’s it?” 

“Well, it’s not like it means anything.” She laughs slightly, looking relieved. “It was just a goodbye, right? People do that all the time.”

“No.” He sighs. 

The word feels like poison on his tongue. 

“No?”

“No, it wasn’t just a goodbye.” He pushes off the stairs, pacing like a madman across the basement. Now that he’s confessed, it’s all flooding like a mental dam has been trampled. “That’s why I’m so beat up about it. It’s not that I cheated on Adalind or whatever, it’s that I did it because-“

He pauses. 

“Because what?” Juliette asks, grabbing his shoulder to stop his frantic movements. 

He doesn’t jerk away from it like he did in the kitchen.

“Because I’m still in love with you.” He chokes. “Because I have a girlfriend and a son but you’re all I think about.”

Her expression is unreadable. Her grip goes slightly slack against him. 

She looks as if she’s about to say something, but he doesn’t give her the chance to. He doesn’t even give himself a chance to think. He just leans in and catches her lips in a fierce kiss that he hopes to God can somehow capture everything he feels about her.

His first thought is how much he’s missed this. He holds her so naturally, it’s familiar, it’s right. Her lips are smooth and yet her movements have an edge to them, a desperation and a slight possessiveness. It’s barely occurred to Nick before now that maybe his uncontrollable pining, his mental anguish and his intense guilt were all shared experiences - that maybe he’d been neglecting to consider Juliette’s own side of things.

But honestly, he’ll be a good and understanding person later. Right now, his mind is fully in this moment, Juliette’s mouth and Juliette’s heavy breathing and Juliette’s waist under his hand. 

He doesn’t even notice the footsteps on the stairs. 

“Woah.” 

The two of them break apart and slowly turn in tandem. Monroe and Rosalee are standing next to each other, looking more shocked than any time Nick has seen them, eyes flicking back and forth between Nick and Juliette. 

“What the hell is going on?!” Rosalee yells.

“I can explain.” He pants.

“Well you better!” Monroe replies.

But he’s wrong. He can’t explain. How the hell could he possibly make this sound any better than it is?

Luckily Juliette starts talking. Nick assumes she’s giving a run down of the situation but his pulse is loud in his ears, drowning out every other sound. He sits down and stares at the wall as she speaks, his head in his hands. He has no idea how much time passes, it could be weeks for all he knows. Maybe he’s just wasting away in this basement, and honestly, he’d rather that be true than the reality of the situation. But time does eventually pass, as Rosalee’s soft voice pulls Nick out of his own head.

“Well, you need to tell Adalind.” She says gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s not too late to salvage this.”

“Well, how would you feel if Monroe was kissing Juliette?” He returns.

“Hey!” Monroe yells. “Don’t drag me into-“

“I wouldn’t feel good about it.” Rosalee says, cutting Monroe off. “But you love Adalind, right? And if you want this to have a chance at working, well, you can’t base it all on a lie.”

“What if that’s the problem?” Nick barely whispers.

“What if what’s the problem?” Rosalee asks. 

“What if I don’t love Adalind?”

Nick’s been in interrogation rooms that have less tension than the basement does right now. 

“Well if you don’t love her why the hell are you dating her?” Monroe asks.

“I don’t know.” He sighs, digging the heel of his palm into his eyes. “We live together, she’s the mother of my child.”

Nick is sure they’re all exchanging glances. It’s then that he realises, he never really did love Adalind. It was all for Kelly. All to fill the void left by Juliette. And for some reason, that realisation doesn’t hit him as hard as he thought it would.

“Nick.” Rosalee rubs his shoulder comfortingly. “You know that’s not a reason to date someone, right? And staying in a loveless relationship isn’t fair on you or Adalind.”

“Yeah, you can’t live a lie man.” Monroe is on his other side, grasping his other shoulder.

“But, Kelly-“

“Will survive.” Monroe replies firmly. “A lot of kids have separated parents and turn out just fine. Hell, look at Diana. Her parents aren’t together and she’s coping fine, which is honestly an achievement for her.”

Nick is sure Monroe is correct deep down. But his childhood is a wound that runs deep and bleeds to this day. He can’t bear the idea of being the reason as to why his son might have to grow up with an absent father. So he focuses on other things. 

“I’m so sorry, Juliette.” He chokes out. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

“It’s - well it’s not okay but-.” She stutters. “You- you’re obviously not yourself right now.”

Juliette crosses the table, facing Nick and giving him a warm smile.

“I think you need to rest and process all of this until you make any rash decisions.” She sighs. “But, for the love of God, please tell Adalind. You know it’s wrong to keep it from her.”

And that’s what he does a few nights later. It does not go well. 

“Are you serious?” Adalind shouts. “All this time I thought I was being unreasonable for feeling threatened by her, and all this time you were fucking her!”

“Adalind, I understand you’re upset but-“

“Upset? Upset! I am more than upset!”

“And you have every right to be, but I'm telling you - I didn't sleep with her.”

“And that makes it okay?”

“No, it doesn’t, you’re right.” He half-sighs, half-sobs. “It doesn’t matter if I slept with her or not, I still betrayed you, and your trust.”

“And your son.” She spits.

“Right.” Nick sneaks a glance towards Kelly in his crib, sleeping soundly with no idea at what’s going on. 

“And how the hell is Diana gonna react when she finds out what you’ve done to me?!” She continues.

“I know this is really screwed up-“

“That bitch!” Adalind shouts, ignoring Nick and slamming her hand down on the counter.

“Hey!” He shouts back. “Yell at me all you want, but she has nothing to do with this!”

“Well considering she’s the one you were kissing, I’d say she has a lot to do with it!”

“But she didn’t go after me! I kissed her!”

“So you’re still defending her?”

“Because she wasn’t the one who did this.” He pinches between his brow. “It’s all my fault. Not hers.”

“I think the real problem, Nick, is that you’d rather get it on with her than stay with your family.” She’s stopped shouting now, and the cold disappointment hits Nick like a stab to the stomach. “You’re clearly still in love with her.”

“I-“ He sobs. “Yes. I am. I’m so, so, sorry Adalind.”

She takes in a shaky breath, looking dangerously angry. He hasn’t seen her face contort like this since she was evil, since he hated her for what she had done to Marie and Hank and him and Juliette.

“Get out.” She spits. “Get. Out.”

“Adalind-“

“I told you to leave!” She screams. 

He apologises one more time, and then turns to go with one quick glance back at his son.

He breaks down as soon as he’s in the lift, grasping at his own body as it wracks uncontrollably with sobs. 

He goes to the only place he can think of.

It’s pouring down with rain as the heavy thud of the car door sounds into the night. Nick’s body shakes - whether it’s the cold or the adrenaline, he has no idea.

His heart hammers in tandem with the harsh knocking on Monroe and Rosalee’s door. His hand slips slightly due to the dampness of his skin. 

It’s Monroe that answers the door, looking happy, and then confused, and then terrified, and then concerned, all within the span of half a second.

“Nick?” He asks gently. 

“I told her.”

The next few minutes are a blur. Monroe slinks an arm around his shoulder, steering him inside and taking his jacket, which had been soaked through from the rain. Nick vaguely registers that Monroe’s brewing some sort of tea before he trudges up the stairs. Nick strains his ears, and hears him telling Rosalee that he’s arrived, who then passes the information on to Juliette.

The three go downstairs, and look tentatively towards Nick.

“Nick?” Rosalee prompts. “You okay?” 

“No.” He sobs. “She told me to get out, and get the feeling she meant it permanently. What am I going to do? She has my son, I can’t leave him.” 

“Let me get you a blanket.” She replies, probably trying to keep his mind off of everything. “You must be freezing.”

He mutters a thanks as she wraps it around him.

Monroe and Rosalee mention something about the tea, and disappear into the kitchen. It’s Juliette’s hand that finds Nick next, resting on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispers.

“It’s not your fault.” He responds almost immediately. “I did this.”

“It kind of is my fault.” She sighs. “You were trying to avoid me, and I pushed you out of your comfort zone.”

“No- no, I was in the wrong for that.” Nick places his hand on top of hers. “I was blaming you for something you didn’t do.”

“But I shouldn’t have kissed you back.” She continues. “If Monroe and Rosalee hadn’t walked in, who knows how much worse this could have been? You’re not the only person who should feel guilty. We both made mistakes.”

He tries to ignore the implication that she would have let things go further. Now isn’t the time. 

“Well, we can’t just sit around placing blame all night.”

“No. We can’t.” She says.

“It doesn’t matter who's to blame now.” Nick huffs. “I just need to find a way to salvage it.”

He doesn’t really believe that. He still feels wholly responsible, but he can’t listen to Juliette put herself down anymore. Maybe she is more to blame than Nick believes, but he’s completely unwilling to even entertain the idea. 

For a moment, Juliette looks as if she’s about to say something important, but there’s a flash of some sort of internal conflict across her face, and instead she says:

“Why don’t you just have some tea and get to sleep? I’m sure Monroe has some clothes you can wear.”

“I don’t wanna sleep.” He throws the blanket off himself and stands up. “This was a stupid idea, I need to-“

“You don’t need to do anything.” Juliette says firmly, pushing him back down. “You can do whatever you need to do tomorrow.”

She disappears into the kitchen, and starts to speak with Monroe and Rosalee. Nick respects her privacy, and tunes out their words, reluctantly wrapping the blanket around himself again. 

The three emerge a minute later, and Rosalee places a mug in front of him. He drinks the tea with minimal conversation. 

It turns out Monroe does have some clothes for Nick to wear. He drowns in them, but they’re not soaked through from the rain like Nick’s ones are. It goes without saying that they let Nick stay with them, they always do. Although, since Juliette is in the guest room, he sets up camp on the sofa.

He falls asleep almost immediately.

When Nick stirs awake the next morning, straining his eyes against the streaks of light coming through the window, he almost forgets what’s going on and why he’s here.

He groans when the memories flood back, checking his phone for any sign of contact from Adalind. There’s one singular text message that reads:

1:30am - Don’t bother coming home.

He practically throws his phone back on the table, staring at the ceiling like it’s somehow going to give him good advice on how to get out of the hole he’s dug for himself.

He’s jerked out of his thoughts as soft footsteps pad down the stairs. It’s Juliette. He can tell, because he’s memorised what everyone’s footsteps sound like since his hearing improved.

“Oh. You’re awake.” She flushes slightly. “I was going to make you something to eat.”

“Don’t bother, I’m not hungry.” He returns his attention to the ceiling.

“Nick.” She makes her way over, and stands above him. He shifts to a sitting position so she can take her place next to him. “You need to eat something. Punishing yourself isn’t going to fix things.”

“I don’t think anything’s going to fix things.” He sighs. “All my stuff is in the loft, and I don’t think Adalind’s going to let me see Kelly any time soon.”

She doesn’t reply to that. Maybe she’s come to terms with the fact that he won’t be swayed away from his guilt.

“I’m really sorry, Juliette.” He murmurs softly. “I know this must be really awkward for you.”

He tries to keep the hurt out of his tone, tries not to let her know how much his heart aches for her even now. 

“Did you really mean what you said in the spice shop?” She asks sheepishly.

“Of course I did.” He says. “I mean, does it look like I’m making it up?”

“Right…” 

“Why?”

“Nick, I didn’t want to tell you this yesterday, I didn’t even want to tell you this now, it’s not the right time, and you’re too emotional but-“ She turns to face him, taking a deep breath. “I love you too.”

He laughs, and halfway through it becomes a sob. He supposes he’s somewhat hysterical with how high tensions have been running for weeks.

“I know, I shouldn’t have told you that when you’re so emotional, I don’t want to force you into-“ 

She never gets to finish her sentence, because Nick leans down and kisses her tenderly. Her hair is like silk between his fingers as he tucks it behind her ear. There are still tears running down Nick’s cheeks as he pulls away, but now there’s a matching set dotted across Juliette’s face. 

“How long have you?-“ Nick starts, but stops himself before he can finish. 

He doesn’t think he can cope with hearing how long Juliette’s been waiting for him to come to his senses.

“It’s always been you, Nick.” She whispers, her breath hot against his face.

“Yeah.” He hums. “I think it’s always been you too.”

“And hey.” She begins, taking his hand in hers. “We can fix this mess together right? We can pick up the pieces.” 

“I hope so.”

Because maybe if he’s going to ruin his life for anyone, it might as well be Juliette.

He kisses her again, a vague thought of calling Adalind to apologise forming in the back of his mind.