"Monroe, you're making me nervous," Rosalee complained anxiously as she watched her husband walk over to the window and peek past the closed curtain. He was checking, for the sixth time in three minutes, to see if anyone suspicious was outside. What if the people that took Nick and Trubel were going to come after them? 

"Sorry," Monroe said nervously, dropping the corner of the curtain he had been holding and spinning around to face his wife who was sitting on the couch watching him.

It was quiet for a brief moment. Then, a car passed Monroe's house.

"Did you hear that?" Monroe asked, spinning around quickly and looking out the window again.

"Monroe, it was just a car," Rosalee told him, saying every word slowly in the hopes that he would listen.

Monroe turned back toward her. "Right," he said anxiously.

Rosalee sighed and patted the couch cushion next to her. "Come sit down." Instead of sitting on the cushion, Monroe sat on the armrest of their yellow couch. Rosalee understood immediately; he didn't plan on sitting for long. It was just a matter of time before he heard something else that would send him around every window in the house to make sure everything would be okay for another sixty seconds.

Monroe wrapped one of his arms around Rosalee's shoulder and glanced longingly at the window at the back of the house from his seat on the armrest. Did he just hear leaves crunch in the backyard? It was probably a bird like it had been the last thirteen times he checked. Rosalee sat, staring blankly at the wall. Despite the reprimands she gave Monroe, her mind wasn't in a much better place than his. She was worried about Nick and Trubel, but she was also worried that their kidnappers would show up at the doorstep, wanting to harm her and Monroe, too.

"Do you think they're okay?" Monroe asked her.

Rosalee picked up Monroe's hand and held it gently. "I don't know," she said sadly, leaning her head on Monroe's chest.

"It doesn't feel right sitting here," Monroe thought aloud.

"We did our part at the gas station," Rosalee reminded him. She knew she sounded insensitive, but it wasn't like that. She wanted to do everything she could to help Nick and Trubel, but now that she was starting a family with Monroe, she had to think about what would be best for her children. If the roles were reversed, would Nick put Kelly at risk to help her and Monroe? Maybe he would if he had an important role to contribute, but Rosalee didn't feel like she had anything to offer that Hank or Renard or Eve didn't. If she got more involved, it would endanger her family, and likely wouldn't do much to help Nick and Trubel.

"It doesn't feel like it," Monroe admitted. He sounded ashamed of himself.

What kind of friend am I? he asked himself.

Rosalee squeezed his hand. "I know," she told him. She pulled herself away from Monroe so he could read the sincerity in her face as she spoke. "But Nick wouldn't want us to jeopardize our future for him." It was true. They had no way of communicating with Nick, but if they could, they were both sure that Nick would tell them to stay out of it and help themselves. "And what difference can we make anyway? We aren't detectives, we aren't government agents... " Rosalee continued.

Monroe's anxiety was building with the passage of time. Eventually, he couldn't sit still anymore and jumped to his feet, almost shouting as he paced around the living room.

"I don't know, but we have to do something. Nick and Trubel could die, that is if they aren't dead already!"

"Don't say that," Rosalee scolded, sounding more nervous than angry. She couldn't help wonder if Monroe was right.

"I'm sorry, I'm just..." Monroe stopped pacing to face his wife while he struggled for the words to describe how he felt. "I'm just not ready to lose our friends..." He started pacing again. "There has to be something we can do," he said. "Someone who knows something, some way for us to help," he listed frantically.

He stopped pacing again, and when he turned to face Rosalee, his eyes were wide with hope.

"What if we-" he began excitedly. He lowered his voice to a whisper before continuing. "What if we used the stick."

Rosalee looked horrified. "Monroe!" she hissed, whispering just like Monroe had. "You know we aren't supposed to talk about that."

Monroe's mind flashed back quickly to the night Nick and Eve returned from the "Other Place."

Nick had just finished explaining to the others how the stick, or rather, staff had ended up in Monroe's house. He told them about the parallel universe where they had all been killed, he told them about the staff's ability to, technically, bring people back from the dead; he told them everything.

"This is huge!" Monroe yelled with enthusiasm as he stared at the staff now sitting on the floor since everyone was too nervous to touch it. "Like, you could travel to a universe where the world was completely different. Like one where Neil Armstrong didn't set foot on the moon, or one where World War II never happened, or one where cars were never invented! You could change history and no one would know it!" he ranted quickly.

"Maybe," Nick emphasized holding a hand out to stop Monroe's speech. "But maybe there are limits to its power," he suggested.

"Doesn't sound like it to me," Trubel disagreed, eyeing the stick warily. "I mean, it brought me back from the dead in whatever universe that was, it blasted you into this universe which basically brought all of us back in time..." she listed.

"Except the Zerstorer didn't come through the mirror this time," Renard said.

"And I don't have that engagement ring from Bonaparte anymore," Adalind pitched in.

"And I never lost my Hexenbiest powers in the 'Other Place,'" Eve added.

"It changed the world we live in. It didn't just bring us back in time," Rosalee summed up. "Which, as Monroe said, is a pretty big deal."

Nick held his hands up again to halt the discussion. "The point is we don't know what it can do or how much power it has. I don't even know how to use it." Nick remembered how he had entered the universe that they were currently living in through a portal he had opened on accident.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Hank asked while the entire group pondered over the staff lying on the floor in the middle of Monroe's living room.

"It's too dangerous and unpredictable, and if the wrong person got their hands on it..." Nick trailed off.

"It would be the end of the world as we know it," Wu finished. "Literally."

"Should we destroy it?" Rosalee asked.

Nick shrugged. "I don't know if that's possible."

"So now what?" Adalind asked, worried about the consequences of not destroying the stick, but also worrying about what could happen if they tried to.

"We hide it where no one else will find it," Nick announced. He glanced around at the group of people surrounding him, noting to himself that they seemed to be in agreement. "No one can know it exists. After tonight, we don't talk about this. Ever."

Everyone nodded.

After that, Nick acquired a new trailer where he kept the staff, and later, the Grimm books and weapons. It was the trailer 2.0.

"But what if we could find Nick? Or if something happened, what if we could bring him back?" Monroe asked urgently.

Rosalee was shaking her head before Monroe could finish speaking. "It's too dangerous," she told him. "We don't know how it works. Maybe it only works for Nick, and if we tried to use it, it would kill us," Rosalee said quickly. She was getting worked up, worried that Monroe would try something dangerous.

"But maybe not," Monroe said hopefully.

Rosalee stood up from the couch and approached Monroe. "I am not going to lose you, or anyone else! No one is risking their lives for something that might not even work!" she yelled with determination. "We are going to help however we can, Hank and the others are going to figure out who's responsible for this mess, and Nick and Trubel are going to be okay!" she added stubbornly.

Monroe's voice was quiet when he spoke. "But what if they aren't?" he said. The pain of the thought was clear in Monroe's voice and expression. What would they do if something happened to Nick and Trubel?

Rosalee was in just as much pain, but she tried to keep her composure for her husband. "It's not our place to change fate," Rosalee said sadly. "If we're too late, we're too late, and we can't risk the world as we know it to change that." Rosalee knew that Monroe agreed with her by the despair in his eyes. As hard as it was to accept, Nick and Trubel would want to keep the stick hidden even if it cost them their lives. And, of course, they would rather die than risk the lives of their friends and the rest of the universe.

Rosalee took Monroe's hands into hers.

"So let's not be too late, okay?" Rosalee asked gently.

"Okay," Monroe said, pulling his hands away so he could wrap his arms around his wife.

She pulled away and started walking toward the door. She pulled her jacket off the coat rack and started putting it on.

"What are you doing?" Monroe asked her with confusion.

Apparently, Monroe's worries had been more convincing than he though because Rosalee said, "Extra sets of hands couldn't hurt."

Monroe knew what she meant. They were going to help find Nick and Trubel. Monroe grabbed his own coat off the rack and grabbed the keys to Rosalee's car. 

*************

"Come with us," the guard requested as he stood in Nick's doorway.

"Now what?" Nick grumbled moodily as he stood up from the bed he was sitting on.

"It's nothing too horrible," the guard promised, crossing his arms impatiently.

Nick had crossed his arms, too, looking just as annoyed as the guard. "Because you're a credible source, right?" he asked snarkily. He had only been held captive for a day and he was already sick of it. He was going stir crazy in his windowless, quiet, boring room.

"Shut up and get moving," the guard ordered. He was already giving up on his feeble attempts at civility.

Nick glared at the guard but complied with his orders. In Nick's mind, he was planning on cooperating just long enough to learn about the guards, Griese, and the compound. When he had what he needed, he would make his escape, taking Trubel with him. As Nick walked down the hallway with the guard, he looked at the closed doors he passed, wondering if Trubel was behind any of them. He'd have to figure out a way to find her...

Some of the doors they passed were open and examining the exposed rooms made Nick uneasy. One had medical supplies and lab equipment. It also contained beds equipped with straps to hold down their unwilling occupants. Nick wondered if that's where Trubel's friend, Angel, had taken his last breath.

Another room was large, with white tiles lining the walls and the floor. It was completely plain aside from a large mirror on the right side of the wall. Based on the closed door adjacent to the open one in the hallway, Nick suspected that the mirror in the open room was a one-way mirror; the closed door likely led to a room where people could look through the mirror's glass and into the next room. But what was the large room for? Training? Isolation? Nick didn't know.

Eventually, Nick and the guard reached their destination which was the interrogation room where Nick had talked to Griese the previous night. Griese was already sitting on her side of the table, waiting for Nick to join her. Nick took his seat across from her and the guard that had been with him moved to stand in the corner next to another guard that had been waiting for Nick to arrive.

"Hello, Burkhardt," Griese said in a false friendly tone.

"If you're going to ask me the same questions as yesterday, don't bother. I haven't changed my mind," Nick said scathingly, not even bothering to greet her. He wanted to cut to the chase of whatever Griese had planned.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else," Griese said. Her eyes were amused, and Nick was immediately suspicious. "But you probably aren't interested since you and Trubel are just acquaintances..."

Trubel? Why did Griese want to talk about Trubel? Nick adjusted nervously in his seat.

"Try me," he challenged. He was doing his best to stay indifferent.

"I was hoping you and I could make a deal," Griese began. Nick didn't like the sound of that; he wasn't eager to make a deal with the devil, especially considering what someone like her would want. Griese looked like she was fighting a smile as she continued talking. "If you cooperate today, I'll let you see her."

As much as Nick wanted to take the deal, he wasn't sure what Griese would make him do, and he couldn't be overeager about seeing Trubel, either.

"Between you and me, she's not doing too well. You do want to see her, don't you?" Griese asked Nick.

"That depends," Nick bargained. "What would I be doing today if I made this deal?"

Griese could sense an easy victory. She smiled and told him, "It's easy. We just want to collect some data on you. Give you a physical, draw some blood, and send you on your merry way."

"And by merry way, you mean back to my room?" Nick clarified. Griese had no intention of letting him go, and he knew it, but his sour mood made him snarky.

Griese's smile grew. "Exactly."

Nick thought about the deal and couldn't think of many reasons not to take it. He wanted to see Trubel, Griese would probably find a way to collect her data anyway, and Nick knew from past physicals that there wasn't anything too extraordinary about his reflexes, blood, or any other test. He would be getting something he wanted without jeopardizing Grimms.

"It's a pretty generous gesture on my part," Griese said, breaking Nick out of his reverie. "I'm surprised you have to think about it."

Nick must have been pondering the idea longer than he realized.

"I have conditions of my own," he announced.

Griese raised an eyebrow and stared at Nick with curiosity. She didn't look happy, either. "Is that so?" she asked bitterly.

"I want to see Trubel before I do what you want, and I want to have the chance to talk to her," Nick outlined.

"You're in no position to be bargaining with me," Griese said unhappily. "Keep in mind that I always get what I want one way or another." She said the words like a threat, and Nick realized that he had been right; Griese was going to collect data on him whether he cooperated or not. He was her science project.

But Nick's determination didn't waver. "That doesn't change my conditions," he said stubbornly. Griese was grinding her teeth with irritation as Nick spoke. It killed her to be compromising with someone she felt was inferior to herself.  "Why should I trust that you'll let me see her after I do everything that you want?"

"I want to be in a position where I can keep making deals with you," Griese explained. "It's easier that way. And so I'll keep my word because I have something to lose if I don't." Griese sounded resolute when she added, "I'll let you talk to her, but it will be after you do what I want. Deal?"

Nick was the one grinding his teeth now. "Deal."

Griese smiled blissfully and nodded to the guards. They motioned for Nick to follow him, and he complied without hesitation.

*************

Miles was whistling happily to himself as he drove his Datsun 240z down the highway. He had told Ian that he needed some air, and Ian, reading the "guilt" on Miles's face, let him go. Of course, it was all a lie. Miles had another activity in mind...

*************

"We're looking for Joseph Reichardt," Hank told the receptionist, flashing his badge. Wu, in his police uniform, stood at Hank's side.

The young receptionist grimaced. "I'm sorry. He's not in."

"Do you know when hell be back?" Hank asked quickly.

The receptionist shook her head. "He only said 'a few days.'"

"Did he say where he was going?" Wu chimed in. Once again, the receptionist shook her head.

Hank and Wu exchanged a look that said, "He's our guy." They suspected Reichardt's absence was more than just a coincidence.

"But I can tell him you stopped by-" the receptionist said quickly, trying to be of help.

Hank interrupted her immediately. "No!" he almost shouted. He was loud enough that it made the receptionist flinch. Hank quickly regained his composure and added, "We're concerned he may leave town if he knows we came here." 

"Leave town? Did he do something wrong? I mean, is he dangerous?" the receptionist asked quickly, anxiety clear in her voice.

Wu and Hank exchanged another look. What could they tell her? If she was nervous the next time she saw Reichardt, it could tip him off to their visit. Even worse, if Reichardt suspected that his receptionist would turn him in, there                    was a possibility that he would kill her.

Wu was the one to answer the woman. "Right now, we just need to talk to him. But he keeps bad company, so the less you tell him, the better," he warned.

The woman nodded quickly. "I understand," she said. "I won't say anything."

"Good," Hank approved. He pulled a card from his pocket and slipped it to the woman, telling her, "When he comes back, or if you find out anything more about where he is, give us a call."

"I will," the woman promised.

Hank and Wu turned around and left the building. When they took their seats in the Charger, Wu said, "Reichardt's involved."

"Probably," Hank said. "But it doesn't do us much good if we can't find him." Hank sighed unhappily, staring blankly out the windshield.

"When we find him, what are we going to do?" Wu asked.

They knew they needed to track down Reichardt, but then what? Hank and Wu would need Reichardt to talk, and there was little hope that the threat of jail time would get him to open up. Wu thought unhappily about Reichardt in handcuffs sitting at the table in the interrogation room with a grin on his face and a lawyer by his side. Hank, however, felt hopeful as he pictured Reichardt and Eve spending some quality time together at the HW compound.

"We're going to get answers one way or another," Hank declared with determination. "Now all we have to do is find the son of a bitch."

"That should be easy," Wu said sarcastically.

*************

Renard left Desiree at the Lotus Cafe after she told him she had no way of finding the specific location where the Reapers were hiding. It was so frustrating! Renard finally knew who could be responsible for Nick and Trubel's abduction, but he had no way of figuring out where they were. Additionally, the fact that the Reapers were responsible meant that the death of Nick and Trubel was a matter of when, not if. They were going to die if Renard and the others couldn't find them.

What was he going to do?

Renard fought with that question up until he returned to his house; that was when he started worrying about how to break the news to Adalind. He sat in his SUV, running scenarios through his head. None of them ended well, so Renard sucked in an anxious breath as he built up just enough courage to get out of his car.

Hesitantly, he walked to his front door. It was open before he had the chance to knock.

"Well?" Eve asked him, wondering what Renard had found out from his contact.

"We need to talk," Renard said tensely.

"Yes we do," Adalind announced quickly, rushing to meet the pair at the door. Renard gave her a curious look before turning to Eve who looked just as perplexed by Adalind's excited behavior. Adalind didn't notice the exchange. She quickly grabbed Renard's hand and pulled him into the house with Eve following close behind. Adalind let go of Renard's hand once the trio reached the kitchen. Diana was sitting on a stool at the back of the room.

"Honey, can you watch Kelly? I need to talk to Daddy," Adalind said hurriedly.
"Okay," Diana said, jumping down from the stool and making her way to the living room.

"What's going on?" Renard asked when he was sure Diana wouldn't hear. Renard and Eve both waited, eager for Adalind to explain herself.

"I told Diana about what was happening," Adalind began. Before she could continue, Renard interrupted her.

"Is she okay?" he demanded, looking in the direction Diana had left with a concerned expression on his face. Renard had been so consumed by the information that he wanted to pass onto the group that he hadn't noticed if Diana looked upset.

"I think so," Adalind said. "But that's not what I wanted to tell you."

Eve and Renard looked at each other, mirroring one another's confused expression, before turning their attention back to Adalind.

"Diana can..." Adalind paused, searching for the right word to explain what she had discovered. "Can sense the people who took Nick," she finished.

When Adalind didn't continue, Eve asked her what she meant.

"She said that she could feel that the people who have Nick and Trubel are looking for us, too," Adalind explained.

Renard's expression was skeptical. "Maybe she's just worried that they're looking for us," Renard said, writing off Diana's feelings as fear rather than a premonition.

Adalind shook her head. "No, it's more than that," she insisted urgently.

"That doesn't make any sense," Renard denied. Now Adalind was the confused one.

"Why not?" she asked.

Renard took another deep breath to steady himself. "Because the Reapers are the ones that have Nick and Trubel. The contact that I met with this morning was sure of it. She said the Reapers were here in Portland. And, if they're responsible, then the Reapers wouldn't be interested in you, or me, or even Diana. Just Grimms."

Adalind was staring off into space, lost in thought. She had stopped listening to Renard after he said "Reapers." It was official; her fiance and her friend were sentenced to die if they weren't already dead.

"Adalind?" Renard asked in a concerned voice. All of the blood was drained from Adalind's face. Her paleness had him worried she might pass out, so he stepped closer to her in case he needed to catch her.

"Maybe it's not the Reapers..." she said in a whisper.

"It's a group of people hunting Grimms," Eve told her sadly. "If the Reapers are here, it's probably because of Nick."

"Why would the Reapers be looking for us if they're just going to kill Nick and Trubel?" Adalind wondered aloud.

"I don't know," Renard admitted. "As I said, it doesn't make any sense."

"Unless they want something," Eve said with realization. She looked frantically between Renard and Adalind who didn't seem to understand what she was saying.

"Why would they want us?" Adalind asked.

"No, not us," Eve explained. "They want something from Nick, but there's only one way to force Nick to do something."

"Threaten his family," Renard realized, completing Eve's thought. He knew all too well about Nick's vulnerability when it came to his family. Holding Adalind and Kelly hostage had been one of the main tactics used by Bonaparte to influence Nick into handing over the Grimm Ancestry book...

The book, Renard thought. "They want the book," he announced. Now everything was starting to come together. "It would allow the Reapers to identify Grimm that they need to kill. It's basically a hit list."

Everyone was on the same page now which was obvious by their matching expressions of despair and horror.

"That damn book!" Adalind yelled. "There's a target on all of our backs now. I wish he never found that stupid thing!" Without thinking, Adalind woged and everything in the kitchen started vibrating. Renard's walls were mostly windows, and he was suddenly worried that Adalind would break them all like she had with his SUV. Maybe Diana could fix the damage, but keeping his house intact was ideal.

"Adalind, calm down," Renard warned her, looking around at the paintings on the wall that were close to flying off. It took a few seconds, but Adalind eventually retracted into her human form, and all of the objects that had been moving held still again.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but this could be a good thing," Renard said in an attempt to comfort her. It wasn't working.

Adalind shot a vicious look in Renard's direction. It was obvious that she was wondering what could be good about Reapers hunting her and her family.

"As long as Nick doesn't tell them where the book is, they'll keep him alive. And they probably suspect Trubel knows about the book, too. This bought us time," Renard explained, sounding hopeful for the first time since Nick and Trubel had been taken.

"And if they come looking for us, we won't have to find them ourselves," Eve pointed out.

"Let's hope they find us soon," Renard said ominously. What a strange thing to wish for.

*************

Monroe and Rosalee drove down the familiar dirt road that wound through the forest. They pulled up to a weathered, metal gate, prepared to open it and drive their car through when they noticed that there was something wrong.

Monroe eyed a silver Volkswagen sedan parked directly next to the new trailer that Nick had purchased. The same trailer that held the staff and the Grimm Ancestry book.

"Do you recognize that car?" Monroe asked Rosalee nervously.

"No," she said, sounding just as concerned.

"Maybe we should turn back and have the others check it out," Monroe suggested, putting the car in reverse. He started backing up but hit the brakes when Rosalee opened the door and jumped out of the car. Monroe was out of the car soon after, asking her, "What are you doing?!" in a hushed voice so the trailer's visitor wouldn't hear him.

"We didn't come all the way out here to turn back! If someone bad is in the trailer, it's going to be their funeral, not ours!" Rosalee hissed. She woged and continued stomping off in the direction of the trailer.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Monroe whisper-yelled as he hurried after her. Usually, Monroe was the one that got angry and acted irrationally. It always worried Rosalee when he acted that way, and now he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

They tiptoed their way to the trailer door and waited. Monroe woged, grabbed the door handle with one hand, and started counting down from three with the other.

Three fingers. Rosalee and Monroe locked eyes. Monroe looked anxious, but he wasn't any less determined than his wife. They were both fed up with people screwing up their lives and hurting their friends.

Two fingers. Monroe took a deep breath and Rosalee bared her teeth.

One finger. Monroe's hand twitched on the door handle with anticipation, and Rosalee watched the movement, feeling just as antsy.

No fingers. It was go time. Monroe opened the door and rushed into the trailer. Rosalee followed.

Together, the two of them stared at a figure that already had its gun drawn and pointing at the duo.