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English
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Published:
2017-12-09
Updated:
2017-12-18
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3,080
Chapters:
4/?
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97
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History

Summary:

So, it's all over, but Monroe can't relax. He's sure there's at least one more shoe to drop.

Nick's more concerned with his slowly imploding relationship with Adalind, and a thing that he cannot quite get out of his head. He needs to watch whatever the Captain is up to.

The Captain isn't up to anything, but when, in his fucked up life, did anything just run smooth. They've defeated Zerestorrer, but now there is something up with Sean. He doesn't know what, he doesn't really care what, it hurts and that's more than enough for Sean. He runs.

Chapter 1: In the beginning there was a book

Chapter Text

It was over, they had all survived, and things returned to how they had been for the last seven years or so, but somehow Monroe could not free himself of the idea that they were missing something. Something big.

He said as much to Rosalee, who smiled indulgently, and patted his arm, and successfully distracted him with their children who were all needing and demanding, and Monroe gently got lost in the joys of fatherhood. For a while.

He mentioned his concern to Nick. But Nick seemed more concerned with his steadily imploding relationship with Adalind, and holding the Captain at arm’s length again.

Monroe sighed and rolled his eyes, granted Sean Renard was tricky, but not including him in their little family had directly led to all sorts of things which Monroe and Rosalee could well have done without.

These days their own relationship with the zauberbiest was cordial but very reserved, it seemed that the big man was trying to put things back in the box again.

The children were growing like weeds. On the surface everything seemed fine.

 

Later Monroe would look back on everything that happened next and realise that the book from his great-aunt was the catalyst. It was very old, leather-bound, much like Nick’s old journals, and written in the kind of German that Monroe could barely read. His great-aunt had very thoughtfully provided a translation and it was this that Monroe read to the triplets at night before bed.

It was quite a story, a story about a good Grimm and a Prince, which made Monroe chuckle a little, and how the Prince changed and the Grimm went after him…

 

It began with the burning pain in both his palms. Sean found himself dropping things, as his palms itched and burned in a way that he had never experienced before. It hurt. A lot.

It wasn’t just the pain, it was as though the clock had wound back, and Nick was holding him at arm’s length again. Sean had grown increasingly weary of the cold war, and the fallout of his failed Mayoral attempt, and now he was experiencing debilitating pain in his hands. It begged the question, what the hell was he doing? He loved his daughter, he truly did, she was the one and only bright spot in his life, but he wondered what real good he was doing for her.

It comes to a head when he decides a little range practice would be a good idea, what with how his hands have been behaving over the last weeks. He drops his gun. This hurts, not just the physical pain from his palms, but the overwhelming feeling, deep down inside, that he’s served his purpose and no one has need of him anymore.

 

Something about the words he is reading to his children piques Monroe’s attention. It makes a peculiar kind of sense, and for the first time since he began reading his great-aunt’s translation, he turns to the source material.

The book is very, very old, and Monroe struggles with the print, and the very complex language, but as he gets into the rhythm he realises that the story is less a fairytale than a kind of prophecy.

The illustrations are beautiful, pen and ink drawings carefully coloured in, soft pastel colours. He turns page after page, it’s the picture of the Prince and the Good Grimm that convinces him, he doesn’t know how this is even possible. He just knows that the picture is their Nick Burkhardt, and Sean Renard. The winged Prince is more magnificent that Monroe has ever seen him, the drawing conveys a sense of power and majesty that they have seen hints of in the past.

He has no idea what any of this means, he just knows that Nick cannot deny the evidence of his own eyes. Monroe closes the book, wraps it carefully, and gets to his feet. He needs to get to Nick.

Chapter 2: Running Away

Summary:

Sean runs.

Diana is devastated.

Adalind buys a ticket

And Nick has had enough of all the drama.

Chapter Text

“What the hell is he doing?” Nick scowled at the CCTV footage. As per usual anything to do with Sean Renard was yet another clusterfuck. First he had Monroe babbling about a book, and a prophecy, and now this.

Rumours had been flying around for a while, someone in vice had been at the range when Renard dropped his weapon, with his earlier strange behaviour, some thought he was on the edge of a breakdown.

Then Diana came home in floods of tears because Daddy was going away, and Nick hardly had time to draw breath from that when it came through that the Captain had resigned.

 

Now Nick was staring at CCTV footage of Sean Renard boarding a plane for Hawai’i. And once again, Nick had to wonder what Renard was up to, as well as field Diana’s tears. Then there were the twin hexenbiest shrieks of outrage when Nick had let his own feelings on the matter out there. “Good.” he had said when he was told Renard was leaving.

Except now he was watching a tall figure bundled into a zip up hoodie, and a pair of jeans, looking as awkward as he thought the zauberbiest had ever looked, with a rucksack, shuffle forward into the queue. The hood was pushed back as the big man presented his passport, and that was when Nick realised that both the zauberbiest’s hands were bandaged.

The footage continued. Once through ticketing, the kicker came when Sean looked up at the camera. Nick zoomed in, the pain on the Captain’s face was as exposed as Nick had ever seen him.

 

And wasn’t that just the absolute kicker.Nick had to acknowledge that he had feelings for Sean. Even when he was angry with his cunning, tricky Captain, he could not ignore those feelings even though he had done his level best to. Then there was Diana. Nick loved the girl. He couldn’t turn away from that. He didn’t understand it either. The one thing that Sean had been one hundred percent consistent about, he loved his daughter. In as far as Nick was aware that zauberbiester were capable of love, Sean loved Diana. He would die to protect her. He had already demonstrated that, although Nick was still a little hazy on all the details of those days and nights.

 

Sean huddled into his hooded jacket, and pulled the hood back up over his head, he was cold, his palms stung, and all he could really do was get away.

Leaving nearly tore his heart out, Diana crying was almost the last straw, but he figured he was really no good for her, and in time, Nick would easily take his place.

Nick he refused to even think about. Keeping his feelings for the Grimm under wraps for seven years had been a walk in the park, compared to the complexity of his emotions on leaving his home, but it had to be done. He could sense something was changing, he had tried to contact his mother, she was unavailable, so he was going to have to figure this out on his own. Aware that he was being rather unfair to his mother, he felt slightly ashamed. All in all, he was not in a good place emotionally, or physically.

To get away, hole up and figure this out, he had an old contact on Maui, who had given him the run of his remote cabin for as long as Sean wanted or needed it. The place was stocked, and he could arrive any time he liked. He organised some clothes, a few belongings including a picture of himself and his beloved daughter, he was doing this for her, maybe someday he could come back, and he had promised to write to her regularly.

He shuffled on to the flight, pulled a paperback out of his backpack and hid behind it, only making eye contact with the stewardesses when they offered him food and drink.

 

Nick was livid. Of course the zauberbiest had run away. And now Adalind was insisting (after insisting that she hated Sean) that he go and follow Renard and bring him back. Nick would really rather not. Not the least because of the inconvenient part of his heart which hurt because Sean was gone without a word. Why should he care?

Grumpily, he threw some clothes into a backpack, while Adalind bought a ticket, and Diana’s eyes shone violet through her tears at the thought of Daddy being home again.

He was going to Hawai’i.

Chapter 3: Feed Me

Summary:

Sean is hungry. Very hungry.

Nick finds him, but has some thinking to do.

Chapter Text

Sean picks up the cart as he walks into the supermarket. Despite his new hideaway being fully stocked with food on arrival, he needs more. Whatever the hell is happening to his body is something to do with woge. It’s no longer his palms that burn, his arms, back, shoulders and chest are prickling and burning, it’s intense, but not as bad as it was when it was just the palms of his hands, then waking up this morning, the sensation is spreading, down his back, down his legs.

He’s hungry. Voraciously hungry, like he hasn’t been since he first woged at 11.

He’s tried contacting his mother, but nothing. Something which would normally worry him, but he suspects she knows, and once again is (in an entirely misplaced sort of way) trying to protect him from something that Sean is sure is going to upset his life again.

He loves her. Until Diana, his mother was the only being he could love and trust, but sometimes he could use a little more information, a little less palace intrigue.

Nick. Prods a very inconvenient part of Sean’s brain. He ignores that.

He pauses in the chiller cabinet area, there’s a six-pack of chocolate pudding that is just calling to him. Sean takes care of himself, zauberbiest genes or not his body is honed and fit, he doesn’t indulge in puddings, aside from the occasional slice of his beloved cheesecake. He eyes the puddings. Puts two packets in the cart, turns the corner, puts two packs of the chilled cheesecake (peach and passionfruit, and blueberry) in his cart, on impulse picks up three packets of the tapioca puddings (he hasn’t indulged in that since he was a child). He stocks up on fruit, pineapple of course, big bunch of bananas, vegetables, steak, tuna. He’s fuelling up a woge, he knows it. His body accepts it, even if his mind is still struggling with whatever the hell this might mean.

 

Nick is in the library. He has access to maps, and he has an address from Wu. He’s already been out twice, both times he’s clearly missed Sean, and that is really bugging him. He goes over the map, needing to formulate a plan. Trying to calm himself down. He’s really not here for confrontation, he’s trying to persuade the zauberbiest to come home.

His own confused feelings he refuses to confront. He’s here for Diana. Nothing else.

 

Sean puts all his groceries away, and then pauses for thought. He’s restless, he brought several books with him, intending to hole up and wait whatever the hell this is out. But he can’t sit still, can’t concentrate on even planning his next moves. This is harder than he expected.

He strips, running shorts, no top, baseball cap on his head, a second, he flips it around, peak covering the back of his neck, running shoes on his feet, the man that leaves the cottage and begins to run down the trail is not the careworn Police Captain of Portland’s Homicide division.

 

Nick pauses at the edge of the woods, glancing up to the front of the cottage. Sean stands on the verandah, locking the door, and for a moment Nick just stands there, gaping at the image that is now burned into his brain.

Nick Burkhardt has always known that Sean Renard was a handsome man, he’s not blind, Sean is very attractive, even his woge exudes a raw magnetism, that Nick has tried very, very hard not to succumb to.

The man he is now following is gorgeous, tanned, fit, half-naked, his glorious body partially on display. And he looks different somehow, there’s a lightness to his expression, his step, almost younger.

Nick knows a lot about his zauberbiest now. Knows that Sean is really three years younger than his official paperwork says he is. Knows, however hard he wants to deny it, that the Captain’s early life was bad, that as a teenage boy he had to run for his life, that his teens were spent running and hiding, that the constant need to protect himself had done a lot to inform his choices along the way, and that Nick hadn’t really done a whole lot to keep the biest onside.

Now he has to ask himself what if. What if he, Nick Burkhardt, had done more, what if he turns around right now and leaves Sean alone, because the man who is ahead of him on the trail looks happy, and even Nick can acknowledge that is one thing that Sean Renard has really never looked over the last eight or nine years that Nick has known him.

Nick turns away. He’ll leave the biest to his run, and come back later. He’s got some thinking to do.

Chapter 4: Winged

Summary:

Sean is very, very hungry.

Nick comes upon his biest at a very bad moment.

Chapter Text

Sean carries the tray through from the kitchen. Plants it down on the coffee table, and stretches out on the couch.

The cabin might be a little off the beaten track, but it has all the amenities including a large widescreen television. The zauberbiest plans on resting, eating, and consuming golden age movies like they are going out of fashion. He allows himself a small smile at the irony of his thoughts, and settles down. The slices of pizza disappear fast, the sandwiches, and other little treats scarcely more slowly. He’s chosen some beautiful, lyrical stories, but his concentration is all over the place, and soon the movie is just a backdrop to the feast that is before him.

The packet of chocolate puddings sit before him, and he eyes them happily, picking them up he snaps a pot off the pack and then looks for a spoon. He hasn’t brought one with him. He looks at the pot, shrugs, peels the lid back and dips his pointer and middle fingers into the goo. The texture of the pudding against his skin almost makes him moan at the sensation. He crooks his fingers and pulls them out, sucks the pudding from his digits, the pleasure is positively visceral.

 

He’s eaten. At some point he’s pulled the other pack of puddings from the fridge, and all three packs of the tapioca, he’s never bothered with a spoon, preferring the forbidden nature of eating with his hands. Now he’s sated and strangely tired, but his skin feels alive, there’s a steady thrum beneath the surface, a forgotten area of his mind recognises it for what it is, but he’s older now, he’s experienced, and after the last few years of his life, something’s coming, but he just doesn’t care what it is. After the Grimm and everything, Sean can’t find it in his heart to fear it.

He sprawls on his side, pushing the abandoned pudding pots to the floor. He’ll clear them up later, but even the last quarter century of self-discipline and never relaxing for a second, can’t make him care.

On some level he recognises that this is strange, because he has always fought to be in control, now he’s losing control and it’s as though it doesn’t matter any more. He stretches out, it’s a large corner couch, unusually there is enough room for him to do so, haphazardly reaches out for a pillow, and drags it under his head, it feels cool against his cheek, and his eyes close, relishing the sensations of the soft fabric beneath him, the cool air downdraft from the fan above him, the silence. He sleeps.

 

Nick pauses about ten feet from the front steps and thinks about this next move. He feels both reluctant and curiously desperate to make contact with his biest. And when did Sean become his biest… or even Sean for that matter.

The Captain… Nick tells himself firmly, is Diana’s father, and his former boss, nothing more, nothing less. Nick shakes himself and steps forward, walks up the steps, up to the door and raises his fist to knock.

There’s a moan from inside, a sharp cry, and Nick’s bursting through the door, because almost eleven years as an officer, nearly nine as a Detective, and he knows the signs. Sean is in trouble.

 

It hurts, it burns, and Sean is face down on the couch, his arms wrapped tight around the pillow, his face buried into it, as it feels as though things are crawling beneath his skin, then rising to the surface and bursting out, he cries out in pain as something tears along his sides, his back, and then he’s on hands and knees, screaming as two immense wings unfurl themselves from beneath his skin.

There’s a hand on his shoulder, and somewhere in his disordered brain, Sean recognises that it is Nick, his Grimm, but his canines are sharpening and they prick his tongue and his lower lip and Sean is out of his mind with the feeling of invasion. The hand is too much. Sean thrusts himself up and away, practically falling over the back of the couch as his wings knock things off tables, and then he’s on his feet and they’re spread out wide and he’s screaming at someone (Nick) to get away from him, and it’s all too much as Sean staggers and stumbles, and his legs refuse to co-operate, he slumps to the ground then, banging his left elbow hard on something and experiencing that weird tingle, and the hand comes back and all he can do is roar at the hand and the man behind it to get away from him.

 

Nick runs, stumbling away from the house, unaware of the tears running down his cheeks, as the final veil is swept away, and Nick acknowledges the truth. Whatever they have been to each other in the past, however things lie between them now, Nicholas Burkhardt loves Sean Renard and cannot cut him out of his life.

He runs and runs, and never sees the car on the corner as he stumbles his way back to his own vehicle.