A/N: Hi guys. I'm back to Grimm after a LONG break. This is the first thing I have written in almost a year, so go easy on me, I'm a little rusty. The new grimm season has really stepped up and I'm loving it so far. This is a short two part tag to 3.03. I couldn't get that scene between Nick and Renard in the latter's office out of my head (Not one of my favorite scenes, I must admit) and I thought that Sean was quite a douche bag in it. So here goes nothing: Disclaimer: I don't own Grimm. If I did, the enormous desk in Renard's office would be put to better use...

Nick rubbed his eyes tiredly, sinking back in his chair. The precinct was quiet and most of the lights were off. After a day of officers bustling around, interviewing people and writing down reports, it was weird to see it so empty and devoid of activity. Still Nick had had work to finish and he had stayed back. He had just gotten over writing the report of the latest case. Fabricating it, would be more apt. There really had been no way he could have explained how he had figured out that the reputed Chef Ostler from The Raven and Rose had been harboring a vendetta which predated centuries, against a species of these not quite humans called Blutbaden, because he himself belonged to another species called Bauerschwein, and the two just didn't get along very well. That was a foolproof way of asking for a one way ticket to a white washed padded cell, and Nick didn't really have a thing for straitjackets.

Bondage had never been his thing.

So he had labored over every detail before writing it down, making sure the lies he had made up did not contradict each other and the line of investigation he had invented did not leave any loop holes which a lawyer could exploit to get Ostler out of prison. It was exhausting work but he was quite used to it now. He actually had the advantage of Hank knowing about all the messed up crap that his life consisted of. He would read through Nick's latest piece of fiction in the morning and make sure nothing seemed too implausible.

Besides he was thankful for the diversion. It kept him occupied, tired out his mind enough that it didn't get time to think.

A pop up appeared on his desktop and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of the desk. It was a reminder to check in with the doctor. Nick sighed. Another conversation that would be laced with half-truths and subtle cover ups. He had half a mind to ignore that particular calendar entry. What was the point? It wasn't like as if some doctor in a lab coat could tell him why his girlfriend believed that he had a knack for dying temporarily every now and then.

Then there were the other things. He didn't know if they were residual effects of being turned into a raving zombie or just some abnormal evolution of his senses because of his Grimm heritage, but he was sure that he was getting slightly paranoid. He was a lot more alert all the time, more tuned in and aware of his surroundings than ever. And it wasn't the normal Sherlock brand of awareness, last night while taking down the rogue chef, he had known instinctively, despite it being dark, how many blutbaden were there on the scene, and where each was positioned. His mind had even automatically figured out a plan of defense if any of them lost their temper and actually attacked. This in itself wasn't a bad thing, but it scared him to not know why these changes were happening, and if they had to do with that night, then what else had changed as well.

Nick was beginning to feel like he was swimming upstream with every breathe and his double life as a cop and as a Grimm, all the lies he told on a daily basis, the things happening to his own body that he couldn't explain, all these things were boulders tied to his feet weighing him down.

Then there was the guilt. The guilt which threatened to suffocate him and drown him. He wasn't sure he would be able to come back if he allowed his mind to go there.

One night. Just a few hours actually, and they had changed his life. Made him a deranged lunatic, someone who would force their way into a family's home and attack innocent people, children. Someone capable of murder. A killer.

''What's really bothering you, the fact that you killed somebody, or the fact that you killed somebody who wasn't Wesen?"

Nick shook his head, the question ringing in his ears. They didn't understand, none of them did.

Monroe and Hank were both great friends. Friends who would stand by him, protect him and lie for him. But they didn't understand. And he couldn't make them. He couldn't admit that he was bothered by something, knowing that they were the ones who had stuck out their neck for him and lied to the cops about it. He didn't have the right. Not after the way he had treated the two of them. He knew they didn't have any hard feelings, but that didn't help with the shame that came with the knowledge of what he had done.

Then there was Juliet.

She was amazing, coping with his world, helping out with his problems, and she had enough on her plate worrying about him. He hadn't even tried talking to Juliet. He didn't want to tell her that he remembered everything about that night. He told himself that it was because he didn't want to trouble her any further, but deep down he knew that wasn't true. He didn't know if he would be able to face the look of horror and disgust she would give him if he told her.

He remembered. He didn't just remember going off on a rampage, he remembered the rage, the uncontrollable fury he had felt, how he had lashed out, how he had hit her, how given the chance he would have killed her, killed all of them. He had wanted to, he had wanted to strangle her, feel the life go out of her, feel her body go limp. Such had been the extent of his anger.

It made him sick to think about it, but God knew he had wanted to. He remembered the rush of power pumping through his veins and knowing all that he had done, he was scared of how much further he would have gone, if he hadn't been stopped. The man with the knife would have killed him, yes he was aware of that. But that did not make what he did right. He was a policeman, dammit, trained to handle such situations. But in those few hours it had felt like all his training, his control, his restraints had fell off and he had become an unleashed wild… thing. Knowing what he was capable of, terrified him.

He didn't know who, what he was anymore.

The one person who he had thought would understand was the captain. He had thought that Renard had known and seen enough of their world to neither be disgusted nor afraid of what Nick had wanted to tell him. Nick had thought that with his knowledge of the wesen world, the captain would understand what had happened and offer him reassurances. Nick had once relied on his captain to guide him through the initial months of his being a detective, and he had hoped that knowing everything about him now, Renard would once again have the answers to the million things that were going wrong with Nick's life, scaring him. He had sought the comfort of his boss having his back when he had entered his office.

He had been wrong.

''What's really bothering you, the fact that you killed somebody, or the fact that you killed somebody who wasn't Wesen?"

The question, heavy with the age old prejudice against his kind, dripping with ignorance about his struggle to remain fair in his duties as a Grimm and laced with scorn had been like a slap on his face. He had been unable to form words, such had been his shock. He hadn't offered an answer, just stared astounded at the desk, as his captain had walked out the door, stopping only for a last condescending remark.

Thinking back he didn't know why he had expected anything better. Sean Renard was after all a wesen, and they had a habit of forming opinions and passing judgment on Nick without knowing him.

Still, his captain did know him. Even if Nick hadn't been aware of everything about him, Renard had known he was a Grimm since day one, known that he was different. That was why such feigned ignorance coming from his captain had hurt.

Nick was through showing the wesen world that he was different. He had never let anyone's opinion of him affect him and he wasn't about to start now. He had always been a fair person, an upholder of the law before all else. Even when the law did not provide an answer, Nick always tried solving the problem with as little bloodshed as possible. A lot of the wesen community in Portland were now aware of that. But there were still those who would remain blinded by the age old hatred of the Grimms. If despite knowing everything, and witnessing how he balanced the two sides of his life first hand, Renard had chosen to be one of those people, Nick could do nothing about that.

He was done proving himself. He was done.

So like I said, this is a two parter. The next part would be Renard and Nick having a much needed conversation. Thoughts?