Chapter Text
He sits at his desk in the darkened precinct, watching the paperwork steadfastly refuse to disappear as the rain softly patters overhead through too-thin walls.
It is one of so many nights like this. He hates to go home. After the debacle with Juliette and the Zaubertrank, the wine looks a bit too inviting, and while the overwhelming need to drink himself into a stupor is no longer there, the desire has slipped insidiously behind his defenses. The whole episode has brought up some nasty memories that need to stay buried for his own sanity and for any chance he has to salvage his relationship with the Grimm.
A Grimm he knows is still having trouble with his girlfriend, even after everything has come out. He supposes he is to blame, having spurned Adalind. Giving her his trust, too willing to overlook deficiency as long as she looked on him with such loyalty. It was his fault.
His fault.
A loud snap startles him from his reverie and he glances down to see the pen he was writing with has been broken. He hastily tips it into the trash before it can make a mess.
The paperwork still refuses to budge, so he retrieves another pen from his desk and starts again. An hour later his eyes start to blur and he realizes that he will not get anymore done tonight. He surrenders his pen and paperwork to tomorrow and gets up, gathering his coat and leaving the precinct, finally, at one in the morning. The car in the garage is waiting for him, and he needs sleep in order to function tomorrow.
Later, he will acknowledge that it is his lack of sleep that left him so vulnerable. Later, he will look back upon what is about to happen and acknowledge that this, too, is his fault. As it was, he only made it ten feet into the garage before he was set upon.
Then there is only pain.
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He wakes slowly the first time, the blur of overhead lights causing his head to swim. Someone says something, but he can’t hear over the dull roar in his head. He is dimly aware of someone touching his shoulders before he loses his grip on consciousness.
The second time he awakens there are more people, but his head is still swimming and the murky darkness drags him down.
He is out again for an indeterminable amount of time. When he comes to again he Forces himself not to go under once more, struggling into consciousness with an incredible effort. The first thing he is aware of is the white. White walls, white monitors beeping a slow, steady tempo. A hospital? Yes, it had to be. He tries to move, but his arms feel heavy. Drugs. He hates that.
He takes in more of his surroundings. There is nothing in the room to suggest that were any visitors aside from nurses. He felt a slight pang. He tamped down on it quickly. He’d been in hospitals before where no one had come to see him. It shouldn’t be affecting him now. And there was no real telling how long he’d been here.
As he takes stock, a nurse bustles through a door. She looks at him at surprise. “Oh my! You’re awake. You shouldn’t be yet. Let me get one of the officers.” She’s gone before he can ask her what’s happened.
He’s been attacked, but the reason…well the reason could be any number of things, actually. He still is held in less than high regard by his family and that is only the tip of the iceberg. That doesn’t even take into account all of the wesen he had ousted from the city in order to keep the peace. He doesn’t even remember what the bastards that jumped him looked like. A sucker punch was the American idiom, and so very apt.
A brief noise from the door caused him to look toward Sergeant Wu as he entered. The man looked him over in the bed.
“Shit Captain. You catch the plates on the bus that hit you? Or the train?” Wu stands by his bed. “You look like hell.”
He opens his mouth to say something but finds speech difficult.
“I wouldn’t try it. You have a nasty bruise on your throat. But don’t worry Captain. I called everybody. We’ll catch whoever did this.”
He is feeling tired despite himself. There are so many questions he wants to ask. Were there witnesses? How long has he been out? Was there any leads? Why was he even here?
He doesn’t get the chance to ask before consciousness slips away again.
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When he gets to the precinct, it is swarming with cops, some of which he has never seen before. There are, surprisingly, several wesen in uniform that give him cursory nods as they hustle to and fro. He sees Hank at their desks and hurries over. Hank looks at him as he gets off whatever phonecall he was on. “That was Wu. The Captain woke up for about three minutes and passed back out. He said the Captain couldn’t talk.”
“Somebody did a number on him then.”
“Or several somebodies. Captain Renard is not a small guy, and on top of the rest…” He leaves the statement hanging, knowing that his partner will understand and that others might be listening.
Nick takes a moment to look around the precinct. There’s an urgent, tense undertone to the room. It is times like these that cops tend to close ranks, become hyper vigilant and more than ready to hunt down an offending party. He had known that Captain Renard was considered a good Captain here, but he still can’t believe the number of cops from other precincts that have arrived in swarms. All of them looked grim and determined.
“Detective Burkhardt?”
He startles a bit and turns to look at a young rookie beat cop. She looks him in the eyes and for a second he senses wesen, but she doesn’t woge.
“Can I help you?” He asks cautiously. She nods.
“I need to see you and your partner in private. It’s important.” She nodded towards the hall.
He and Hank share a look before following here through the mob of officers to the much quieter hall and out to the garage. They pass the heavily taped area where blood has been smeared on unforgiving concrete, and he knows it belongs to the Captain. There was quite a bit-whoever had done this had no misgivings about spilling royal blood. When they have an illusion of being alone, the rookie turns to them. Her eyes are full of barely contained fury.
“What are you doing here?! You should be out finding the bastards that did this. You are a Grimm and He is the Prince, every second you spend here makes him look weak!” She snarls at him. “Why are you standing around? I thought you were supposed to be-“
“Officer Shay.”
Her mouth snapped shut as she whirled around to look at the grizzled lieutenant that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. “Officer Shay, report to the head of your unit. You are going to be late for assignments.”
“But-“
“Don’t make me pull rank. Either of them.”
The rookie glared at them both and left.
“Sorry about that. The young ones are impetuous in any species. This business with the Prince has everyone on edge too.” The lieutenant pulls out a cigarette. “Do you mind? My wife says I should quit but I’m old. Set in my ways.” He puffs a moment, surveying the two men quietly.
“And you are?” Hank asks after a moment.
“DeMarco.”
“First name?”
“Lieutenant.”
Hank snorts a bit at that.
Nick gives the old cop an appraising look. “So what was that about? I didn’t know Captain Renard had such a following.”
“Lots of things you probably don’t know. Did you know he cleaned up the city when he first got here? Even allowed Wesen to enter the police force? I mean, nothing was gonna stop me, but it sure is nice for ones like Shay. Man has done a lot of good, for all he hides out in the shadows like some French vampire. Thank god he doesn’t sparkle in the sun. I don’t know if I could respect a sparkly cop. The Prince could probably pull it off. My youngest daughter likes that stuff. No accounting for taste, but-“
“Right. Hey, can we get back to Renard?” Nick interrupts. “Like, what Officer Shay said about him looking weak?”
“Just some old bullshit some of the vultures are passing around. You don’t worry about that, people are always willing to badmouth the top dog when he’s got the muzzle on. Focus on catching these assholes, and the rumor mill, well, you let me and some of the others deal with that.” DeMarco flips them a lazy salute and leaves them in the garage alone.
Hank tuts a bit. “Ever get the feeling you’ve been unceremoniously shoved out of the loop?”
“So much the last few years, it’s insane.” Nick feels a little puzzled by DeMarco’s help, but he does have a job to do. “We should check out the crime scene again while we’re here, and all the cameras. See who we’re looking at.”
“And what.” Hank added grimly.
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