After a series of brutal murders, the gang realizes that there is more to the victims than it seems. Nick begins to suspect that someone in Portland will be coming after him next. Elsewhere, a new secret organization wreaks havoc on the city.
This...
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"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.
