a/n: Ever wondered what would have happened if Nick realized it was Adalind before she left that morning? What if Juliette never became a hexenbiest? I've been thinking about that a lot and this season 4 redux is what came of it. Enjoy and let me know what you think.

Necessary Sins - Prologue

It occurred to him, lying, as he was, in bed beside Juliette, that until this morning, he had never actually had a proper conversation with Adalind. Even when he'd been protecting her from the bee wesen their exchanges hadn't been conversations so much as mine fields of double speak and hidden meanings. That double date they'd sat through, Nick had been more focused on trying to find fault in Adalind than in actually taking part in the conversation and well, pretty much every other time they'd been trying to kill each other or exchanging threats.

Possibly, if he'd ever bothered to actually have a conversation with Adalind before now, everything that had happened before Monroe and Rosalee's wedding could have been avoided.

If they had talked he wouldn't be lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and worrying that Juliette's distant mood since they'd returned from the reception was some sort of sign she knew something had happened. At least worrying that Juliette knew or suspected something was easier to think about than what had actually happened and what it really meant.

He'd cheated on her. Cheated on her with Adalind of all people. Only, did it count as cheating when he hadn't actually known it was Adalind? Did it count as cheating when he'd thought he'd been having sex with Juliette? And what about the second time? Did that count as cheating if it was necessary to undo what Adalind disguised as Juliette had done?

He wanted to say no, to believe firmly that it had all been out of his control and that the blame landed at the feet of the Royals and maybe Adalind but he couldn't. Adalind had done what she thought was necessary to be reunited with her daughter and, well, he'd done what was necessary to stay a Grimm.

But did having sex with Adalind (twice) count as cheating when it was done out of necessity? Did it count as cheating when neither of them had wanted to do it but both of them had to?

He couldn't stay in bed beside Juliette while he was thinking about sleeping with Adalind. It just highlighted the fact that, while his brain was determined to view the whole thing clinically and objectively, in his heart he felt like he'd betrayed Juliette.

Because, in the end, whether or not it had been their idea, that second time, when it had been him and Adalind fully aware of what they were doing? Yeah, he'd kind of liked it.

The sex, once they'd gotten over the awkwardness of the situation and decided to embrace it, had been pretty fucking spectacular.

Cleaning up Weston Steward's blood offered him a distraction but cleaning didn't really require much focus. Since he'd become a Grimm, he'd spent a lot of time scrubbing blood off of one surface or another and so, even as his hands dragged the cloth back and forth to soak up the blood, his mind wandered.

He just wished it would wander in Juliette's direction and not offer him up a replay of his time with Adalind in full colour with all of his senses joining in. Jesus, he could still smell her. Never mind the fact that bleach was burning his nostrils, Adalind's scent was already burned into his mind. He could vividly remember the feel of her skin, the way she tasted and the sounds she made as she writhed beneath him.

She'd met him move for move and given he'd been more than a little angry – at her and the situation – things had gotten pretty rough. But she'd kept up; she'd matched his anger and fire with her own until they'd collapsed breathless beside each other, grinning when they should have found nothing enjoyable about the situation.

It had been enjoyable, though, and Nick didn't know what he was supposed to make of that. He supposed he and Adalind had always had a very passionate relationship, you couldn't spend so much time and energy hating a person without feeling passion, but knowing how that passion could be better spent was not at all comforting.

How did you continue to hate someone when you'd seen them at their most vulnerable, when you'd hurt them in the most heartbreaking way possible and they forgave you?

Because, as much as he'd like to pretend it had been one quick nightmarish morning filled with quick (necessary) sex, he couldn't. The whole reason there'd been a second round and he wasn't lying awake now freaking out about not being a Grimm anymore was because they'd talked.

Well, there'd been some yelling and fighting and the throwing of anything Adalind could get her hands on, but they had talked. And talking to Adalind, even if it meant realising she wasn't Juliette and the whole can of worms that had opened up, was still better than the alternative. If he hadn't spoken when he had, if he hadn't made that remark, he'd be scrubbing the floor thinking about his time with Adalind for a whole other reason.

He'd be cleaning up the blood of Weston Steward pondering the reality of no longer being a Grimm.

So, really, wasn't it better that he'd accidentally made that comment? Wasn't it better that he and Adalind had managed to reverse what she'd done before it had taken hold? It couldn't be called cheating, then, not if it truly was out of necessity. He'd done plenty of things as a Grimm that were considered wrong, this was just another in a long list of things that were slowly but surely turning him from a good cop with a strong sense of morality into one who danced the line between right and wrong and lived in the grey in between.

And all because, while Adalind had still been pretending to be Juliette he made a comment about receiving an email from his mom letting them know she'd found a safe place for her and Diana.

Nick didn't think he'd ever forget the look on Adalind's face then, even if she'd been wearing Juliette's at the time. The way she'd frozen, the way her eyes had blazed with fury and then widened with horror. He hadn't understood her look, hadn't understood her reaction until she'd clutched her stomach looking sick and frightened and uttered a horrified, 'Oh, god.'

He supposed that was something else he should probably be concerned about. The fact that it had been those two words, spoken in such a way that he'd immediately gone from sitting calmly in bed to standing beside it, clutching the sheet around his hips, with her name falling from his lips in an equally horrified gasp.

Things, things had sort of spiralled from there because he'd been pretty fucking pissed she'd tricked him into sleeping with her and she'd been really fucking mad he'd stolen her daughter and slipped her away to hide with his mother.

When they'd both calmed down enough to talk rationally, Nick had found himself sitting on the end of the bed he shared with Juliette beside Adalind (once again looking like herself) who was wearing one of his t-shirts because it had been the closest thing at hand when she'd wanted to cover up her nakedness. He'd managed to catch a pair of his underwear after she sent a full drawer of his things flying at his head.

Neither of them had been willing to look at the other, it was safer to stare at the destruction around them and be really, really glad that Trubel either hadn't heard the fight or that she'd gone out.

The awkward silence after the truth had come out was actually comforting to think about. The air between them after the second round, with Adalind looking like Adalind (so they could undo the spell she'd done to strip him of his Grimm abilities, could he stress that enough?), had been laden with tension. It just wasn't a bad kind of tension, it was the kind that came with the realisation that the sex between them was really good and the unwanted questions of what the hell they were supposed to do now.

He wanted to hate her, wanted to go back to the ugly tension and spiteful words but he didn't know how. Tumbling onto his back, breathless and spent, things hadn't been as awkward as they should have been. Lying beside her, knowing the thin sheet was all that shielded her naked body from his own, it had been really hard to remember why he hated her.

He was pretty sure one of the things she'd yelled at him in between rounds had been about how her actions at the start had been just a job. Not that it made it any better but now that he knew why she'd done the things she'd done and with the knowledge that being a Grimm placed you in the grey and often darker side of right and wrong, it was really hard to hold her actions against her.

But that could have been the nakedness talking because now that it was dark outside and he was kneeling in the hallway scrubbing wesen blood out of the carpet he could admit that just because the sex had been fantastic and just because they'd talked, didn't mean he didn't hate her.

People had sex with people they hated all the time.

And believing that lie was going to be the only way he stayed sane. If he didn't keep reminding himself that he hated her, if he didn't keep thinking about all the ways she'd hurt him and his friends then he'd have to think about the way she helped him straighten out the room before she left. He'd have to think about the way she'd refused to apologise for doing what was necessary to find her daughter. He'd have to think about all the guilt he felt for stealing Diana in the first place.

He'd have to think about the fact that she'd left in a pair of slightly too big leggings he'd stolen from the back of Juliette's closet and his t-shirt because the clothes she'd walked in wearing were now too big (or torn).

If he didn't keep reminding himself why he hated her, then he'd remember that she'd managed to make him laugh (it hadn't exactly been a happy laugh) or that his list of problems had now grown to include worrying about Adalind because the guilt of going so far as to steal her child threatened to swallow him whole.

They'd done a lot of bad things to each other but somehow, stealing Diana from her, even though he'd honestly thought it was the best thing for the baby hexenbiest, felt like a step too far. How could he blame Adalind for doing everything she could to find her daughter?

He needed to stop thinking about this. He needed to stop thinking about her. He needed to focus on cleaning up the house so that Trubel wouldn't be confronted with the evidence when she woke up. Then he needed to go to bed and sleep because in the morning he would need to get up and go to work and pretend like nothing had changed.

Because it hadn't. Nothing had changed, he was still a Grimm and Monroe and Rosalee were on their way to two weeks on a beach drinking fruity drinks packed full of alcohol. No one ever needed to know what had happened before the wedding, no one needed to know how close he'd come to losing his abilities.

Juliette never needed to know he'd slept with Adalind because it hadn't been a choice made from desire or lust. If it had, then he'd have felt guilty but he didn't. He wasn't sure if what had happened had been wrong but it had been necessary and so it wasn't guilt he was feeling it was just that as much as Juliette supported his being a Grimm (well as much as she could), he knew she'd never understand how he was able to accept what had happened and move on.

As hard as she tried, and he knew she tried, Juliette would never be able to understand how something like this could just be accepted and dealt with. He sincerely doubted she'd be able to understand his willingness – his ability – to shrug this off and move on.

He hoped like hell he never had to explain it to her.