Thirty Minutes Earlier:

Miles stood over an open casket laid out across the long table. He smiled down peacefully and triumphantly as he looked at Trubel's face just before he shut the lid.

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

Monroe was pacing in his living room again. Rosalee watched curiously as she waited for Monroe to get off of the phone. Eve had called.

"Uh, good to know, I guess," Monroe said anxiously. "Did you tell Ian?" Monroe nodded and said, "Good... Yeah, I'll let her know... You, too." Monroe hung up and turned to look at Rosalee with a frantic expression on his face.

"What's going on?" Rosalee asked him before he had a chance to tell her.

"Miles was working for the people that took Nick and Trubel," Monroe explained anxiously. "He apparently attacked Hank and Wu in the woods and is now on the run."

"Are-?" Rosalee began with concern.

"Hank and Wu are okay," Monroe told her. He sat next to her on the couch and held her hand as he reassured her. Rosalee sighed with relief. She took the green blanket that was spread across her lap and stretched out the sides so that it now covered Monroe, too. "Miles knows everything that we know about the Reapers. Even if we do find Nick and Trubel, they're going to see us coming."

The thought was concerning. They had only made a small amount of progress in the case, and Miles knew about all of it. He'd be able to warn the others. If the Reapers were aware that they were running out of time, they might be tempted to act rashly and kill their Grimm prisoners sooner rather than later.

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

"Are we clear on the plan?" Griese asked, irritated that she had to consider Reichardt and Miles any time she wanted something done. Lucky for her, the frustration was almost over. She had just finished her discussion with Miles and Reichardt, and together they had decided that Miles would deal with Trubel while Reichardt and she would work with Nick; now they just had to act.

"Oh, yeah," Miles said happily. Reichardt nodded in Griese's direction.

"Good," Griese approved. "Let's get moving."

With that, the trio left the conference room and walked into the hallway. The group split with Griese and Reichardt heading one way and Miles heading the other.

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

Hank was sitting in the back of an ambulance, holding an ice pack to his head. He was both embarrassed and angry that Miles had gotten the jump on him, and those emotions were clear on his face. Wu was standing with him, and Renard was asking them both questions about what had happened. Hank was still angry by the time the interrogation finished.

"I can't believe he got away," Hank grumbled.

"It's not your fault," Renard said in an attempt to comfort Hank; it didn't' work.

"It feels like it is!" Hank yelled. "And if Nick and Trubel die because of this, because of me-" He broke off suddenly, too frantic to make coherent sentences.

Farris walked up to the frustrated and worried grouping. "Your car was found a few miles up the road," Farris told Hank.

Wu grimaced at the sentence. "Let's agree not to use the word 'miles.'"

Farris ignored Wu and walked over to Hank to kiss his head. "I'm glad you're okay." Hank wrapped an arm around her instead of telling her that he didn't feel okay. Like the others, he was wondering to himself how Nick and Trubel could be found and if they would be found alive.

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

Trubel was getting anxious now. She couldn't tell what time it was without clocks or a window, but she was almost certain that Damien should have come by her room by now to bring her breakfast.

Something felt wrong.

She wondered to herself if she should pull out the knife and one of the two handcuff keys that she hid under the mattress. Maybe now wasn't the time... she wouldn't want to waste her only weapon. When was the next time she would get to loot the bodies of dead guards without getting noticed? Probably never.

As she tried to escape her nervous thoughts, she paced along the length of her room. More time passed and, when the pacing didn't help soothe her nerves, she gave it up and lied down on her bed, staring at the ceiling while she pondered where Damien could be. She was relieved when the door to her room opened. She turned her head, glancing at the door with a hopeful expression... until she saw Miles in the doorway instead of Damien.

Did she have time to get her knife?

No, she thought with despair.

Even if she did, Miles would see what she was doing. She would lose the element of surprise, and Miles would disarm her in a second.

The blood drained from Trubel's face, and her eyes widened in panic. She sat up on the bed, looking anxiously at Miles before getting off the bed completely.

Miles was sadistically amused by Trubel's nervousness around him. He knew he was in control, but it made him happier that Trubel knew it, too. He grinned his wicked grin that looked like a less composed version of Griese's smile, and he started walking further into the room in Trubel's direction.

"Did you miss me?" Miles asked sarcastically as the door shut behind him, enclosing Miles and Trubel together in the small space. There was nowhere to run.

But Trubel couldn't fight, either. Miles had almost killed her last time, and he would probably finish the job if she tried anything. He was about as fast and strong as Trubel, but he knew all of her moves while she knew none of his. It would take Trubel time to learn all of his fighting strategies, and that was time she didn't have. She was screwed, and completely at Miles's mercy; no matter what she did to avoid it, she would have to do what Miles wanted, and his grin told her that he didn't want anything good.

Trubel's silence in response to Miles's question encouraged him further. "Today's an important day," he announced. Trubel gave him a confused look, hoping he would elaborate on his vagueness. There could be a lot of reasons that he would find a day "important." Trubel quickly ran ideas through her mind, trying to prepare herself for whatever was coming. Was she going to die that day? Was Nick? Did Miles have something else just as horrific planned?

Trubel didn't have to wonder for long.

"Today is the day you're going to tell me where the book is," Miles informed her cheerfully. His confidence in the statement made Trubel even more nervous. What was he going to do?

"But you need to come with me first," Miles added, reaching his arm out to Trubel who recoiled at the closing distance between her and her tormenter.

"It doesn't matter what you do," Trubel warned Miles. "I'm never going to tell you where it is."

"Really?" Miles asked dubiously. His face transitioned from amused to threatening as he started walking toward Trubel. Trubel backed up as he approached, but was trapped when her back hit the wall. She was cornered.

Miles continued to walk closer to Trubel. She shied away from him as he got closer and closer, finally stopping once he was a few inches away from her face. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?" Miles asked her, glaring at her cruelly.

"Screw you," Trubel growled.

Miles chuckled and pulled himself away from her. "Normally, I'd tell you to watch your mouth, but we have so much fun planned that I don't feel the need to," Miles said cheerfully.

Trubel stayed where she was with her back pressed against the wall as she glared at Miles. What fun things did he have planned? Was he going to kill her?

"Let's get to it," Miles suggested with an enthusiastic smile. He reached his hand out to grab Trubel's arm, but she flinched away from him before he succeeded. She gave him a warning glare, but Miles didn't seem phased. "You're going to come with me one way or another," he informed her coldly. "So will you walk with me or am I going to have to make you?"

Trubel's cautious look persisted as she thought about her options. Eventually, she pushed away from the wall and took a reluctant step toward Miles. She had made her choice.

Miles stared at her in surprise. "I never took you as a quitter," he noted tauntingly.

"I'm not quitting," Trubel hissed at him. "And I'm not stupid, either. I have no chance of winning a fight against you, so I'm choosing not to try... for now."

"You're going to regret making that decision, but it makes my life easier, so I won't stop you," Miles told her. "Come on." Miles gestured in the direction of the door, and both he and Trubel began to make their way out to the hallway.

"Look at us," Miles said happily as he walked with Trubel through the doorway. He put an arm around her shoulder and added, "It's almost like we're partners again.

"We were never partners," Trubel reminded him, shaking his arm off of her aggressively. "You were working against me the whole time."

Miles laughed at her. "We're just pretending, just like I was before."

Miles wrapped his arm around Trubel's shoulder, and once more, Trubel wasn't happy about it. Trubel shook his arm off, but unlike the last time, Miles reacted aggressively. He threw Trubel up against the wall and grabbed her throat. "You don't like it when I touch you? Well, how does this feel?" he demanded angrily.

"Get off!" Trubel yelled, attempting to push Miles away from her. She was unsuccessful and Miles decided to put even more pressure on her throat; she had to pull Miles's arm away from her neck just so she could keep breathing.

"You don't get to give me orders!" Miles yelled back at her. "I own you." Trubel continued to struggle in an attempt to get him away from her, but to no avail. Miles continued speaking. "You better do what I say unless you want me to drag you down the hallway by your hair."

Miles pushed himself away from her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder again to lead her down the hallway. This time, she didn't protest.

It wasn't long before Miles and Trubel were at their destination. Miles pulled Trubel into a room with guards lining the sides of the walls. At the back of the room was a long table with a casket resting on its surface with the lid closed.

Trubel halted immediately, and her instincts told her to turn around and run. But she couldn't; Miles still had his arm around Trubel, and now his hand was clenched around the fabric of her shirt to hold her where she was.

"What is this?" Trubel demanded. She had a lot of thoughts running through her head, one of which was Nick's lifeless body resting just under the casket's lid.

"A surprise," Miles said sadistically, dragging Trubel with him toward the table. Trubel hesitated at first, but then she gave in, too curious to see what was inside. It couldn't be Nick. It just couldn't be.

The guards that had been standing against the walls moved closer, anticipating a violent reaction from whatever Miles was going to show Trubel. The pair reached the casket and Miles gestured for her to open it.

"Go ahead," Miles told her with a grin on his face.

Trubel hesitated. Did she want to know what was inside? She drew in a breath to collect herself before reaching an arm out to undo the thick metal locks at each end of the casket's side. She then attempted to pull up the casket's lid. It was heavier than she thought, and she had to use both arms to force the lid upward.

Trubel stared in confusion at the empty casket. No body or any other horror lied inside. Trubel's eyes scanned its inner walls and floor before turning her gaze to the inside of the lid. She realized it was heavier than she imagined because the inside was lined with some sort of metal resembling steel just like the rest of the casket's insides.

"I probably should have mentioned that we know something about you," Miles hinted suddenly.

Trubel glanced over the steel lining inside the coffin before turning her attention to Miles. As she stared at him, the smile on his face grew wider and wider. Trubel looked back at the casket, noticing for the first time, again, the thick metal locks fastened to the outside. That was when Trubel was struck with a feeling of dread.

How did Miles know?!

"You..." Trubel trailed off in horror.

"Know about your claustrophobia?" Miles guessed. "Yes, I do."

Trubel's instincts were screaming at her to run, and once again, she had nowhere to go.

This time, it didn't stop her from trying. She broke away from Miles and rushed to the door that led into the hallway. She almost had her hand around the handle when the group of guards caught up to her and dragged her screaming back to the edge of the casket.

Trubel yelled, "Let go!" while Miles chuckled to himself next to her.

"Get off!" Trubel shouted as she struggled to break free from the guards.

While the guards restrained Trubel, Miles walked up to her and grabbed her chin to get her attention. He forced her to look at him when he reminded her, "There was only one person who knew what you were afraid of."

Trubel shook her head to get out of Miles's grip. It worked; after all, Miles had her full attention now. "Angel wouldn't do that!" Trubel screamed in Miles's face.

"He did," Miles taunted. "He told us your worst fear, and now we can use it against you."

Trubel couldn't fight with Miles anymore. Angel was the only person who knew about her fear of small, dark spaces. There was no other explanation aside from Miles's; Angel, Trubel's trusted partner, betrayed her.

Trubel didn't want to believe it.

Miles was quick to give her a distraction. "That coffin is for you," Miles told her. "I'm going to ask you where the book is, and you're going to tell me unless you want me to lock you inside."

Uh-oh.

"I'm not telling you anything!" Trubel hissed at him, sounding even more aggressive because of her fear.

Miles shrugged. "That's fine with me." He nodded to the guards who began dragging Trubel closer to the casket.

"No, no! Miles, stop!" Trubel screamed.

Miles watched her panic with a cold and indifferent expression for a few moments before he put his hand up to halt the guards.

"Your time alive is almost up," Miles warned her. "And when it is, I'm sticking you in there," he said pointing to the casket, "And burying you alive."

The panic in Trubel's expression grew as she realized she would be experiencing her worst fear in her last moments of life. 

Miles continued his speech. "But your time isn't up just yet. Instead, you're going to get a little preview of what you have coming... Unless you answer my question." A war raged in Trubel's mind as she considered, for the very first time, telling Miles what he wanted to know.

"Where. Is. The book?" he asked her aggressively.

"Miles, don't do this," Trubel pleaded helplessly.

He wasn't satisfied with her answer and nodded to the guards to resume where they had left off. One of them taped Trubel's wrists together in front of her, and another fastened her ankles together. Trubel yelled for them to let her go and to get away from her while they lifted her into the casket. The guards succeeded, and held Trubel in place while Miles stood over the casket and smiled down at her.

"Try not to panic," Miles taunted her. "You'll hyperventilate and run out of oxygen sooner."

Trubel ignored him and continued to struggle against the guards. It wasn't doing her any good.

"If you survive, I'll be seeing you in twelve hours," Miles told her.

Twelve hours?!

Trubel stopped fighting and stared at Miles with horror and panic. She didn't think she'd be able to handle minutes, and especially not hours!

"Miles, don't!" Trubel begged him.

Miles took a piece of duct tape from the guards and spread it over Trubel's mouth; she couldn't tell him where the book was, even if she wanted to. Miles was determined to put her through hell.

"You better have a real answer for me when I come back," Miles threatened her. He smiled and said, "Have fun."

Trubel winced and Miles hurriedly shut the lid to the casket after the guards let Trubel go.

Miles whistled cheerfully to himself as he walked out of the room, a strange sound when combined with the harsh metallic banging coming from inside the casket.

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

"What are we waiting for?" a man asked harshly from the passenger's seat of a black van. The driver sighed at the impatient and frustrated grumbling that came from the four others in the back of the van.

"Griese was very clear," the driver said, enunciating every syllable very carefully. He sounded like he was talking to children. He certainly felt like he was talking to children. "We stake out the place first."

"We've been staking it out," someone from the back complained.

The driver sighed again. Was Griese trying to get him killed by forcing him to work with these clowns?

"Captain Renard isn't home, but Adalind Schade is. She's with her daughter, her son, and another woman," the passenger told the driver. Maybe if he proved they knew enough, the driver would give them the go-ahead.

"Eve. The Hexenbiest," another person from the back of the van clarified for the passenger.

"That's great, guys," the driver grumbled. "But do any of you morons have any idea on how we can deal with two Hexenbiests and Diana without getting killed?"

"Probably something like this," a woman from the back snarled. She woged into a Manticore and bared her lion-like teeth. The rest of the van's occupants followed suit, woging in enthusiasm and anticipation.

The driver glanced around himself. Looking first and the Manticore woman and then at the others. A Siegbarste, a Quijada Vil, a Mauvais Dentes, a Varme Tyv. He could see how such a dangerous group of people could be so confident. He smiled and woged into a Gedächtnis Esser with yellowish flesh spotted with blue rings as opposed to the uniform reddish color of most Gedächtnis Essers; he was unlike anything that Adalind or the others had ever seen. "I suppose we're ready then," he said. "We want to get this over with before Sean Renard returns, anyway."

Everyone in the van smirked like the Gedächtnis Esser, holding their positions in the van aside from the Manticore woman and the Quijada Vil who dashed out the back doors quickly.