Chapter Seventeen: Apart

Hey, readers! You guys rock! Thank you for all of your support! Comment if you have any thoughts, predictions, feelings, worries, questions, or criticisms! Should I start posting chapters more often? How do you feel about that?! Also, I started posting a new book called In the Nick of Time. It's basically Season 6 Episode 14 or Grimm because I couldn't handle Grimm being over. Feel free to check it out and, as always, thanks for reading! - TRBL247

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The bullet went straight through Nick's brain and killed him.

Or, at least, would have if Bonaparte had loaded the gun.

But the gun wasn't loaded, and Bonaparte knew it.

Nick had involuntarily closed his eyes but opened them after realizing that he wasn't dead when he should have been.

Theresa still held the gun to his head. She looked at the very alive Nick and pulled the gun back. She checked the magazine and the chamber of the gun. "You didn't load it?" she asked Bonaparte who was laughing to himself in the corner.

"Of course not. I think Nick could be very useful to us, but only if he's alive. This whole show was for you." He grinned at Theresa. She was pissed.

Meanwhile, Vincent was standing with his mouth hanging open. He was in shock. He just watched Theresa emotionlessly put a gun to Nick's head and pull the trigger. He couldn't believe it.

"Did you know about this?!" she asked/screamed at Nick.

"I had no idea," he swore. His eyes were wide with shock like Vincent's.

Theresa threw the gun and shattered the mirror across the room. She tried to storm out of the room, but Bonaparte got in her way.

"It's good to have you back, Theresa," Bonaparte said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

She took a deep breath and nodded submissively. "I need to go," she pleaded.

"Do whatever you want, my girl. I'm so proud of you." Bonaparte caressed the side of her face with his hand.

She walked past him. She didn't know where she was going. She didn't even know why she needed to go.

Bonaparte and the Blutbaden left the room, leaving Nick and Vincent alone with their thoughts.

"I can't believe it," Vincent said, helping Nick to his feet and untying Nick's hands. "I just can't believe she did that."

Nick couldn't say anything. He was thinking about Trubel. The girl who had just tried to kill him was not Trubel.

He thought about the merciless way that Theresa pulled the trigger. He thought about how angry she looked when he wasn't dead. He thought about the way she let Bonaparte touch her and tell her what to do.

Trubel was dead.



Theresa ended up in the kitchen. A place that she had never actually been before. It was late and she thought no one would be there. She was wrong. She found Max.

Max turned around and saw her standing in the doorway. He hadn't seen her since he betrayed her and lured her out of solitary confinement for a Siegbarste to beat her to a pulp.

"Max?" she asked.

He gulped.

"So this is where you ended up?" she asked menacingly.

"Uh, uh, uh, I g-guess so..." he answered. He was sure that, "I guess so" was going to be the last thing he'd ever say.

"There's something I've been wanting to do for a long time, Max," she said as she started walking closer to him. Max didn't want to know what she wanted to do.

"I've been wanting," she said, stepping closer to the terrified mouse. "To eat a grilled cheese," she said. "Make me one, and I won't kill you." She walked away to go find a table in the mess hall.

Max was breathing hard and was surprised that he didn't have a heart attack. He was also surprised that Theresa didn't kill him. He pulled himself together and made the angry Grimm a sandwich.

Theresa sat at the table without knowing what to do with herself. Max brought her the sandwich a few minutes later.

"Here you go," Max said. He handed the plate to her with shaking hands, and Theresa eyed the sandwich.

"It's burned," she said.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just so," he didn't have words to describe his nervousness, so he just flapped his hands around wildly. "I tried. I really tried. I made three and they all ended up like, like," he gestured to the sandwich. "Like that," he said. "That one's the least burned out of all of them. I, I couldn't... I can't... Please don't kill me!" he sobbed. "I'm sorry for everything!"

"Stop talking," she commanded and started eating the sandwich.

"Okay, yeah. I can do that!" he laughed nervously and noticed Theresa's carved up arms. "What happened to your arms?"

She glared up at him from her sandwich.

"Right, I'll stop talking," he said. "Do you need anything else?"

"Go away," she told him.

"Okay," but Max didn't move. He was too scared.

"Go!" Theresa yelled at him.

Max jumped and ran back to the kitchen.

Theresa finished her sandwich and gave Max the plate when she was done. That day had been a long one, so she headed back to her room to get some sleep.



When she woke up, she still wasn't sure what to do next.

She had made Bonaparte proud. That was good... right? It was good?

Yeah, it was good.

It must be...

She sat up slowly in her bed. Her room and bed were better than Nick's and almost as good as Vincent's, except Vincent's bed was softer...

She needed to stop thinking about them. They disgusted her. They confused her. They were cowards.

That's what Bonaparte wanted her to think.

She ran her fingers through her messed up hair and closed her eyes.

She watched Nick talk to her, apologize, and she saw her finger pull the trigger. She couldn't help thinking about it. It was more unsettling than it should have been. She should have pulled the trigger without thinking, watched the aftermath that was expected, and been fine.

She was fine... right?

She groaned. She really didn't know what to do. Nick saw her pull the trigger and so did Vincent. What was she supposed to do now? She decided that the best course of action was to stay away from them. She didn't want to see anyone.

She got up, walked out of her room, and headed down the hallway without purpose. She wasn't going anywhere in particular but hoped that moving around would give her some kind of idea. She should have known that she couldn't walk down the hallway without seeing people that she knew. She knew everyone.

She saw Nick and Vincent. Her little stunt with the gun, despite not killing Nick, really made it feel like Nick was dead. She could tell he had no connection with her anymore. He couldn't even look at the person he had seen her become.

Vincent, on the other hand, looked like a sad, lost puppy. She wanted him to stop looking at her like that and move on like Nick had.

Further down the hallway, she saw Blake. He smiled at her.

It was weird. He was one of the only people that ever smiled at her... besides Bonaparte.

"Hey, Theresa!" he greeted. "Great job yesterday. I know that must have been a hard decision to make."

She concealed any emotion that she felt. It wasn't hard. She hadn't felt for a long time.

"Thanks," she said. "But it wasn't a hard choice; I know what side I'm on."

"That's our girl," Blake said, laughing.

Theresa smiled slightly as she kept moving down the hall.



"Is there anything that we can do?" Vincent asked Nick.

"She tried to kill me, and would have, too, if Bonaparte hadn't been playing one of his games," Nick answered hopelessly. "I want to keep trying just as much as you do, but I think we've lost her for good."

"Then, why did she throw the gun at the mirror? Bonaparte didn't want that..." Vincent suggested.

"She must have been upset that Bonaparte wanted to keep me around," Nick responded.

"Or maybe..." Vincent began.

Nick looked up at Vincent, wanting to believe that there was an alternate explanation.

"I have nothing," Vincent concluded. "She tried to shoot you. There's no way around that one."

Nick sighed. He looked very much like he was in excruciating pain. His face nearly matched the expression he made when Bonaparte glared at him.

"She's coming," Vincent said.

Nick looked at the ground while Theresa walked by and Vincent looked at the young Grimm with eyes that begged for answers.



"Who are you?" Theresa choked out, hardly conscious and in debilitating pain.

"I am someone who sees a young woman that I can hardly stand looking at," said the older woman smiling down at Theresa.

The older woman must be another one of Bonaparte's friends.

Theresa closed her eyes and braced for impact. She was strapped down to a bed in the infirmary. There wasn't much else that she could do.

"I imagine that you didn't have much fun with Bonaparte's friends. Well, no one ever does. Of course, no one usually lives, either. You must be special," the woman looked the Grimm up and down. "Blake told me that you are going to meet with Bonaparte's friends for four weeks?"

The woman wasn't talking like she included herself as part of the friend group. That was confusing. Theresa opened her eyes. The woman was smiling.

"I really cannot bear looking at you," the woman spoke, pulling something out of her pocket. Then, the woman frowned. "I don't think anyone deserves treatment like this," the woman said. "This will help with the pain," she continued, holding whatever was in her hand out to the Grimm. Theresa's vision wouldn't focus; she couldn't see what it was.

"Open," the woman said gently.

Theresa didn't know what to do.

Suddenly, the woman grabbed Theresa's chin to open her mouth, threw whatever she had in her hand into Theresa's mouth, and held it shut so she couldn't spit it out. She also plugged Theresa's nose, so she had to swallow.

"If you want it to work, you need to swallow it, honey," the woman said soothingly.

Theresa obeyed.

The medication acted quicker than she thought. Theresa still felt immense pain, but, soon, the edge was taken off by whatever the woman gave her.

"I'm Sarah," the woman said and walked away.

She came back to the infirmary every day after Theresa's visit with Bonaparte's friends during the four weeks of torture. She gave Theresa the same medication to take away some of the young Grimm's pain. The meds never did a lot, but even a little bit of help was appreciated by the fading Grimm.



Theresa decided where she wanted to go.

She wandered the halls, asking people where she could find Sarah. No one knew. Eventually, Theresa stumbled across a door labeled, "Spices and Medicines" and walked in. She looked around and saw Sarah stacking glass bottles on shelves. Everything had a sort of Spice Shop, deja vu feeling to it, despite the fact that the room was darker, the bottles plainer, and none of Theresa's friends from a lifetime ago were there.

"Sarah?"

Sarah stepped off of the stool she was on and turned around to face Theresa.

"Theresa!" she said in happy recognition. She eyed the Grimm. "You look better," Sarah said. She looked at the expression on Theresa's face and saw anger, frustration, hatred, and pain. "In some ways," Sarah said disapprovingly. "My, you've changed quite a bit since the first day I saw you," she said uncomfortably as she resumed stacking jars and bottles on the shelf.

Theresa didn't say anything. Sarah, though she was much older, reminded Theresa of Rosalee. Maybe this wasn't such a good place to go.

Sarah was turning jars so their boring black and white labels were facing outward. Without looking at Theresa she asked, "Did you need something?"

"Why did you help me before?" Theresa blurted out.

Sarah laughed lightly and turned around to face the Grimm. "Is that really why you came all this way?" she asked dubiously.

"Why?" Theresa barked.

Sarah shot her a disapproving look. She clearly didn't like the Grimm's tone. "I wanted to help you."

"Sure you did," Theresa said skeptically. 

"I didn't say you had to believe me," Sarah said, turning back to the jars.

"What are you even doing here?" Theresa asked.

"Well, I start every day by organizing a new order of various medicines and spices that are usually waiting for me in the morning. I check to see if anyone put in any orders, but for the most part-"

Theresa made a frustrated sound. "I mean, why are you working for Black Claw?"

"You really are a tough pill to swallow nowadays, aren't you?" Sarah asked innocently. She grinned at Theresa. "That was sort of an apothecary joke."

Theresa glared at her.

"I don't think you are asking the questions that you want answers to. I think that you want me to tell you what you're doing here," Sarah responded. Theresa looked at the ground trying to decide if Sarah was right or not.

Sarah pulled a stool out from under a desk. "But, if you must know why I'm here, I will tell you. Have a seat. Stay a while."

Theresa thought about the offer and eventually obeyed.

"I am Wesen, of course, and an apothecary. I suppose that's what captured the attention of Black Claw. They gave me an offer, I agreed, and here we are," explained Sarah.

"But that's not the whole story, is it?" Theresa asked confusedly.

"No. The whole story is something that you will have to earn."

Theresa was confused, but not upset. Something about Sarah kept her from raging like she usually did with the smallest of irritations. "How?" she asked.

"I could use some help taking inventory..." Sarah suggested and handed Theresa a clipboard and pen.

Theresa decided she would help.



"What's this?" Theresa asked.

"This," Sarah said, holding up a jar of bright green-yellow powder, "Is actually new." She handed the jar to Theresa in exchange for the clipboard. "I've heard about this stuff all of my life, but have never seen it before."

"Okay...?" Theresa said, suggesting that her question wasn't answered.

Sarah laughed and started writing on a blank line on the clipboard. "It is the ground up skin of Anura Dendrobatidae, a species of poison dart frog. I've never seen it before because it has no purpose or use," she stopped writing and looked up at Theresa. "Unless you're a Grimm," she said. "This must be for you or your friend, Nick Burkhardt."

"He's not my friend," Theresa quickly objected.

Sarah began to write on the clipboard again. "Uh-huh," she said with a tone that implied she thought Theresa was lying.

Theresa would have argued, but there was no point. "Why can you only use it if you're a Grimm?"

"There have been plenty of stories of the paste's use, but most of them have involved its use by a Grimm. It has become common, yet untested, knowledge that the paste only works on your kind."

"What does it only do for Grimms?"

"It prevents electrocution and death when one comes in contact with a Matanca Zumbido," Sarah explained. "I, however, am not so sure that only Grimms can use it. I did some research and found that the paste is used by normal, non-Grimm tribespeople of the Amazon to hunt electric eels. This paste, accompanied by a ritual, is said to make them immune to the electric shocks, allowing them to handle electric eels with their bare hands. Some tribes used the dart frog poison by rubbing it in a cut usually made on the arm, but historically, Grimms have always pierced their ears and rubbed the paste there; that way has proven effective for them. I suspect that tribespeople could use the paste to become immune to the shocks of the Matanca Zumbido, but non-Grimm, non-tribe members cannot." Sarah handed the clipboard back to Theresa. "But, of course, I can't be sure. I wouldn't imagine that many people would subject themselves to that kind of risk in the name of science. That is why we continue to assume that only Grimms can use the paste."

"That's..." Theresa didn't know how to process the influx of information. "Interesting?"

Sarah laughed. "It's just one of many interesting remedies that I have here. Can you write 1 under the quantity column next to, "Paste of Anura Dendrobatidae" for me?"

"Uh..." Theresa said, scouring the list for "Paste of Anura" something. "Yep," she announced when she found it.

"Thank you!" Sarah said. Then, in agreement with Theresa, she said, "Yeah, we have interesting and very dangerous mixtures like," Sarah held up bottles one at a time, "Schlaftrunk, Spirit Oleander, ingredients for Dead Faint, Sauver Sa Peau, hellebore and hemlock extract, Siegbarste Gift..."

"You have Siegbarste Gift?!" Theresa asked in amazement.

"Only two bottles because of how rare it is," Sarah said. "Luckily a little bit goes a long way. You can put two down for the quantity if you like."

"What's the point of having that when we work for a Wesen organization?"

"As you probably can understand, not all Wesen are here because they want to be. Others aren't here at all; there are probably a few Siegbarstes working for HW." Sarah paused, deep in thought. When she resurfaced from her reverie, she said, "Which reminds me. We've basically finished taking inventory, so I guess it's time to finish my story..."

Sarah looked hesitant.

"You don't have to," Theresa said.

"I promised..." Sarah sighed. "My daughter was murdered a few years ago... by her boyfriend. He was human. She showed him what she was, and he panicked. He thought she was a monster."

"Was she?" Theresa asked.

"You tell me?" Sarah asked woging into a Scharfblicke, and then back to her human form.

"I guess not," Theresa said.

"She was one of the kindest, smartest, most beautiful people that I had ever known... But, I don't know. Maybe I'm letting my motherly instincts affect my judgment... again."

"That's why you accepted Black Claw's offer, isn't it? You loved your daughter and jumped at the chance to get revenge," Theresa guessed.

"Something like that. Let's just say that her boyfriend is... no longer with us," Sarah admitted. "But since then, I've regretted my actions and my choices."

"You regret being here?" Theresa asked.

"Do you?" Sarah countered.

"Not at all," Theresa said quickly. "I should go." Theresa stood up and began to walk out the door.

"Don't you want to know why you came to see me?" Sarah asked.

"No," she said bitterly. "And just so you know, you should probably start wanting to be here and stop breaking rules to help people. Bonaparte wouldn't like that."

"Are you going to tell him?" Sarah challenged.

"You helped me, so I'm giving you a warning," Theresa said. "This one time."

"I hope you find peace," Sarah said.

Theresa left.



"Where have you been?" Bonaparte asked curiously.

"Around. Taking some time," Theresa said.

"Are you okay?" Bonaparte questioned, worried that Trubel was creeping back in.

"I want to bring more people from HW in," Theresa said. "But, I don't think Vincent will work with me."

"Then, by all means, my dear, bring more of them in. And don't worry about Vincent. He knows who you really are now. Let him readjust."

"Who should I take with me?" Theresa asked.

"No one," Bonaparte answered. "You may go alone if you choose, but I don't want you leaving Portland. I trust you, but I want you close."

"Yes, sir," Theresa said.

"Isn't this nice?" he questioned, taking Theresa's hands. "Things are looking up for both of us now that we can trust each other."

Bonaparte kissed Theresa's hand. "Come back, soon," Bonaparte requested.

Theresa nodded and went to go find Adam Smith. She needed information from him.



"I know you know where he is," Theresa shouted in Nick's face.

"I think you should leave him alone," Nick told Theresa.

"And I think you should get out of my way. Adam Smith has information that I need," Theresa replied.

"You don't need to hurt him. He is working for Black Claw now," Nick said.

"I won't if he tells me everything that I want to know," Theresa explained.

Nick nodded and showed Theresa to Adam's cell. "Let me give him a heads up first," Nick requested.

Why was Nick still trying to tell her what to do? It drove her crazy! She wanted to punch him. However, Nick was trying to get Smith to cooperate, so Theresa let Nick warn him.

Nick walked into the cell and whispered to Adam. "Tell her everything. Don't make up anything, just give her facts. You'll be safe as long as you're honest with her," Nick said.

"You want me to tell her where she can find HW agents so she can force them to work for Black Claw?" Adam asked furiously.

"Yes. If she is successful at bringing them in, Vincent and I can talk to them and convince them to help with the compound revolt, just like we did with you," Nick explained. "It's safer and more effective this way."

"I'll do it," Adam agreed.

Nick walked outside and told Theresa, "He's ready for you."

Theresa walked into the room, grabbed Smith by the back of his shirt, and dragged him to an interrogation room with a table.



"Theresa, it's been a while," Smith said. "You're looking... different."

"I want names, dates, times, and places. You work for Black Claw, now, got it? So, tell me what you know about HW, now!" she demanded.

"I will," Smith said.

"Then get on with it!" she commanded slamming her hands on the table.

"I'm curious," Smith said. "Who's side are you on these days?"

Theresa was furious. "Black Claw's. I thought I made myself pretty obvious," she growled. "Now, talk!"

"You are more abrasive than I remember," Smith said, grinning. "I suppose you're trying to intimidate me?"

"No, this is me intimidating you," Theresa said, flipping the table that separated her from Smith. "I remember everything that Vincent told you the night he took you in. I know what you, him, and Nick are planning. I don't think it would be hard for me to 'accidentally' let the Mauvais Dentes out of the bag, don't you think?"

Smith woged.

"So are you going to tell me what I want to know, or not?" she asked.

Smith gave her everything she needed to know. He wrote down addresses, names, dates, and even phone numbers. She used all of the information to bring in dozens of HW agents over the next few weeks

When their meeting was finished, Smith asked, "Are you going to tell Bonaparte about our... ambitions?"

"Not if you shut it down now and never talk about your plans again. If I catch any of you still working on it, I will not hesitate to tell Bonaparte," she promised. "You might want to tell Vincent and Nick the same thing."

She left Smith alone in an interrogation room and began preparing for an assignment. Nick found Smith a short while later, and Smith told him everything that Theresa had said.



Theresa was finally prepared to leave the compound and made her way to the garage. She walked over to the Black Claw sedan and found Vincent waiting for her.

Why was Vincent everywhere she went!?

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Vincent asked.

"Out. I'm going to bring in more people from HW, not that it's any of your business, anyway!"

"You shouldn't go alone," Vincent said stepping towards the car.

"If you get in this car, I'm driving it straight into a tree, you got it?!"

"Why, Theresa?" Vincent asked with a pleading tone.

"Why, what?"

"Why?! Why do you do anything?!" Vincent asked.

"None. Of. Your. Business!"

"I think it is. I want to know why you aren't fighting back anymore." Vincent said. Theresa thought about what a sad sack he had become.

"If you don't shut up, I am going to fight back against someone," she warned.

"I want to know why you stopped loving me," Vincent said, clearly struggling with the new reality he was faced with.

"Let me make this absolutely clear to you," Theresa said, getting in his face. "I hate you and I hate Nick because you are cowards, and you disgust me. Just because you were able to trick me into caring about you for one night doesn't mean that I ever loved you! I am different and you can either accept that, or you don't."

"I won't," said Vincent, sounding determined.

"Then, I'll let Bonaparte know, and hopefully he'll let me put a bullet through your brain," she replied scathingly.

"I promised I wouldn't give up on you," Vincent said.

Theresa punched him in the face and chest. She broke a few of his ribs and hit him hard enough to give him a concussion. "No, you didn't. You promised that to a different girl. God! You just don't get it, do you?!" she growled at him while he fell to the ground choking from the blow to his chest.

She walked to the black sedan and got in. She drove it straight for the choking Vincent who luckily saw her and moved before becoming roadkill.

The tires of her car squealed as she sped away.

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