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Flashback: Just a little more than eight years ago.
Kristoff would, when asked by certain parties about how well he thought the past three months had gone, say that at least the mechanically and magically locked-down padded cell in the basement hadn't been necessary.

In truth? He'd come to absolutely adore his high-handed, defiant little brother. It still wasn't clear if Vincent had come to accept the term, but Kristoff didn't -- well, he cared, but he could live with even being considered some sort of castoff servant with weird issues for the time being, if that was what was going on in the much-younger boy's mind. Kristoff would still be his brother.

It was a quiet afternoon. The Richardses had taken their children on a family outing for the day. Grimm was settling into the home he had recently acquired for his 'retirement'. Storm had a date. Quiet indeed.

But then something was happening in the lobby. He pulled up the appropriate screens and, just for a moment, froze.

Then Kristoff headed straight down there.