Warning: This episode contains spoilers for the entirety of The Handmaid’s Tale franchise up until the finale of season 5.

Blessed Be the Fruit Loops!

The act of love can be so much more than pillow talk and sweaty sheets. For some, it’s an outpouring–our past, present, and future–our barriers and insecurities, all flowing from one vessel to the next–even that last quintessential drop; we hand it over as well saying, “This is all I am. I am yours. Please be mine.”

That kind of love was possible in the time before Gilead when couples could kiss in public and men could walk hand in hand. Everyone was free to explore their bodies and hearts to the fullest, and we did.

We were fools rushing in, playing a dangerous game. We knew that we were gambling with our hearts. But no matter how much it hurt, or how much we paid, we were never fully left wanting–not until the war.

Gilead was more than just a country. It was a dread force, built from panic, pain, and the lust for power, so potent that it was able to overthrow the strongest nation in history, leaving it completely unrecognizable.

The country’s founders, the Sons of Jacob, built an economy based on labor camps. The more people they rounded up, the more profit they made. They became predators, overseeing witchhunts and trials held under false pretenses, all so they could increase their wealth.

Everyone wanted to curry their favor in hopes of ensuring their safety. So the public spied and schemed, reporting crimes and fabricating lies. That meant true love–the kind based on trust and commitment–was no longer possible because nobody could be trusted.

Love took on another form. It was almost like a handmaid lifting up her skirt to offer a forbidden suitor a glimpse of her ankle. Give away too much, and you could end up on the wall.

Nick Blaine, more than anyone else in the series, understood that. We saw it in the way he carried himself–rigid, careful, sounding off phrases like an obedient soldier. He learned to calculate his facial expressions and body language so as not to rouse excitement or suspicion.

He was everything the believers needed him to be–Commander Pryce’s sycophant and a trustworthy member of the Waterford household. He was so good at convincing them, even after all his open indiscretions, that he was able to rise through the ranks and take on the role of Commander.

The Betrayer

Humans need social interaction and stimuli almost as much as we need water and air. When we’re deprived of those things we enter a state of quiet panic, and like all individuals facing unbearable conditions, we begin to scramble for ways to find relief.

Offred would count the flowers on her quilt or sit in the window in her room watching the tree branches sway in the wind. It wasn’t enough to cut through the monotony, but when you’re truly suffering, you don’t have any other choice but to try.

Mostly she’d find herself waiting, counting the seconds until her food or her shopping partner arrived. If she was lucky, she’d be called to a birthing or salvaging. But those things were insufferable in their own ways, and when they were over, she’d be expected to go back up to her room.

It must’ve been a release when she finally heard boots on the stairs–Guardians coming to take her away. If she was arrested, she’d never have to see those four walls again, and yes, she would pay for her supposed crimes, but sooner rather than later, it would all be over.

She was shocked when Nick walked in. He strode up to her, pulled in close, and whispered something she never expected him to say. “It’s all right. It’s Mayday. Go with them.”

In the novel, Margaret Atwood wrote that Offred’s suspicion hung over his head like a dark angel warning her to stay back. She thought he was lying to calm her down and keep her from resisting. After all, he was an Eye.

The narrative ended when she was ushered into the back of a van. But we were able to glean a few answers from the epilogue. She recorded her story on a set of ancient cassette tapes, found in a safe house attic near the border 200 years later. In The Testaments, we learned that she crossed safely into Canada and eventually became a fighter in the resistance.

As for Nick, that cloud of suspicion hung over his head for 33 years–until the premiere of the Hulu series–by which time he himself had become a black angel, like a warning cloaked in darkness.

Anyone who finished the book would look back at his brief affair with Offred and wonder, what was he hiding? Who was he? Where did he come from, and of course, what were his intentions?

When answers did come, they were vague. We learned that he was loyal to June. He would have given his life for her. But he held his cards close, refusing to reveal even the most basic details about his life in the time before.

She confronted him, begging him to give her something–anything to make her feel like what they had was real, but all he could offer was his last name and his home state of Michigan.

Indoctrination

There was no denying that Nick was hiding something. It could have been a basic precaution–something to keep June from divulging too much information in case she got arrested–or it could have been something vicious and unforgivable.

Maybe he was a true believer, and if that was the case–if there was one single thought or a glance in Gilead’s direction, it would’ve tainted his character irreparably.

He’d be one of them–the enemy, guilty of unspeakable crimes; it wouldn’t matter how much he loved June or how many times he’d risked his life for her. We’d never be able to see him the same way again.

We haven’t been given much, but there are traces of truth found in his past, revealing one of the series’ greatest mysteries–one that we’re not likely to revisit: the rise and fall of the United States of America.

When the bombs have dropped and the ash has fallen, all that will be left of our beloved country will be mounds of concrete and brick; and beneath that, steel–thin pyres and boxy frames stretching as far as the eye can see.

It’s our backbone–our skeleton–used to build everything from cars to skyscrapers–modern marvels, forged by the world’s highest-paid industrial laborers.

These were hardened men, taught from a young age that no matter what, so long as they were willing to work, they could put food on the table. So they woke up early every morning, grabbed their lunch pails, and put in their 12 hours.

They were seen as the engine that fueled the world–driving innovation, manufacturing, shipping, and construction. They built America.

Steel became a metaphor for the United States. We were tough. Nothing was stronger. But relying on a single material wasn’t a viable economic strategy. Steel was vulnerable to the whims of the market. Ups and downs, bad trade deals, and new commodities took their toll, ravaging the workforce, eventually replacing them with Chinese plastic.

When the steel works closed, Nick’s father took a quarter pension, and his brother Joshua gave up. He’d take off for weeks at a time, leaving Nick to shoulder the burden.

That’s how Nick ended up at Worthy Path Career Counseling, sitting at Andrew Pryce’s desk, begging for a job. This is one of two flashbacks we have. The scene is short, but like most of the Hulu series, there are small clues pointing to a much larger picture.

Nick was jerking around in his chair. His posture was awkward, and his hair was unkempt. He still had his quiet facade. But he was frayed at the edges, ready to take anything, even retail–which likely wouldn’t have been enough.

We don’t know why he was having trouble maintaining employment. He’d had opportunities–a car dealership, Walmart; nothing panned out, and it was down to the wire.

He was probably on the edge of homelessness in a region where frozen corpses turn up on the roadside on winter mornings.

That’s probably why he jumped up when the guy in line behind him told him to move along. He puffed out his chest, slammed into him, and whipped around to punch Pryce on the nose.

Pryce was a strange character. He didn’t look like he belonged at a strip mall employment agency. He wore a black tailored suit and vest, the kind you’d see paired with a pocket watch and a designer tie.

His brothers in the Sons of Jacob were statesmen–oligarchs that hovered on the periphery of government and corporate life. They’d haunt cocktail parties and boardrooms, fraternizing with the world’s elite while they made backroom deals and puffed on cigars.

We don’t know anything about Pryce, but it’s possible that his career center was a front to recruit people like Nick. That’s why he offered to buy Nick a cup of coffee instead of suing him. He didn’t care about Nick’s life. He was following a tried and true formula, meant to identify and groom potential extremists.

It’s not hard. At a certain age, young men are like lumps of clay, ready to be sculpted. They don’t know who they are, so they take on new identities–shallow labels like prep, goth, stoner, and thug–and they use that newfound sense of self to find out where they belong.

Men like Pryce hijack that process. They learn to play into their adolescent insecurities, fuel their frustrations, and harness their rebellious nature. If the target is broken and vulnerable, you can win their loyalty, and when you do, they will give everything they have for your cause.

Where Nick’s Loyalties Lie

It has been said that when a choice is made, the universe branches off, creating multiple realities–one for every possibility. That is what happened when Nick accepted Pryce’s offer to join the Sons of Jacob.

Two people were born–one a zealot, slowly acclimated into accepting Gilead’s teachings; another, a limo driver who kept his head down and played the part while the movement unfolded around him.

We don’t know exactly what Nick was thinking, but there is one seemingly inconsequential hint in the dialogue. After Nick told Pryce about his father and brother in the diner, Pryce replied, “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, as the good book says.” Nick reminded him that wasn’t actually in the Bible.

Some viewers dismiss this. It’s simply not enough to cling to, but to those who understand Gilead and its teachings, it stands out. Nearly everything they believed, from the ceremony to their class system, was based on a twisted version of scripture.

They were so flagrant in their deviations that Commanders were forced to keep their Bibles under lock and key. Even aunts-in-training had to prove themselves through years of devotion and study before they were allowed to crack open the book, and they still found themselves struggling with the lies.

Offred was quick to point out that anyone with a passing familiarity with scripture would have had a hard time swallowing their doctrine, and that is a consistent theme throughout the franchise. Nick’s reply was not an accident. How could he become a believer when he knew the Sons of Jacob were lying?

But we still have to consider his refusal to leave. Through flashbacks we know that he was privy to high-level secrets, including a debate between Commanders about the creation of handmaids. He knew the full depths of their depravity. Why didn’t he report them? He could’ve called an FBI tip line or gone to the police.

Filing a report isn’t always as straightforward as it might seem. Anyone who has dealt with the police knows they don’t always play by the book. If a crime has been committed, they’ll use their own discretion–often erring on the side of prejudice–and corruption is rampant, even on the federal level.

The Sons of Jacob were deeply entrenched in matters of state. It’s likely they already had men in the FBI. Eliminating a single individual would’ve been well within their power. Fred did it. He killed the wife of the man that shot Serena, and he wasn’t alone. He had hired muscle right beside him.

Perhaps that’s why, when June came to Nick for assistance with Nichole and the Swiss, he refused. He told her that when you get in bed with the government it’s not so easy to get out. The Sons of Jacob weren’t about to let him walk away–not after everything he’d seen.

Nick’s Greatest Deception

At a certain point, June’s liaisons with Nick became something more than physical gratification. She was isolated to the point of madness. She had nobody to talk to. The few relationships that she did build became sacred undertakings–small rays of light in the steel veil of silence that spanned the breadth of the nation.

She shared everything with Nick–all those memories running through her mind–the jellyfish at the aquarium, Hannah laughing and running towards the waves on the beach, morning mimosas with Moira. She couldn’t bear her existence, so she lost herself in the time before, and in so doing she lost herself in Nick, completely abandoning her inhibitions. That is how love grew between them.

Her life would never be bearable. But she wasn’t alone. She had someone in the room–an ally who cared. They could trade stolen glances, kiss, and hold hands. It must have been a thrill–just two bodies, finally stuck in orbit.

But good things can only last for so long in Gilead. When lovers gravitate towards one another, the intimacy between them becomes palpable. To the trained eye, it’s impossible to miss.

We don’t know when Serena became aware of their relationship, but when she realized that Nick was protecting June, she was quick to act. It didn’t take much, just a quick hint at the breakfast table, and she had Fred running to Commander Pryce asking for Nick to be transferred.

What Fred didn’t realize was that Nick was stationed in the Waterford household as a spy, meant to report on the activities of his Commander, a part of Pryce’s efforts to clean up Gilead. Pryce warned against turning him away and instead offered to have Nick married.

At the time, June was stuck in a state of dissociation. She had 90 days of freedom–both her and her unborn daughter, stranded in the old headquarters of the Boston Globe. She came within seconds of finally escaping to Canada when Guardians broke into her plane, shot the pilot, and dragged her out. She was inconsolable. Every part of her was screaming for release.

She couldn’t contend with reality, so she withdrew into herself and rejected her surroundings. She was stuck in a haze, going through the motions until she saw Nick standing in front of Eden at their wedding. Tears came to her eyes, and she looked down at Serena unable to comprehend how anyone could possibly be so cruel.

Serena was like a black hole. She sucked all of the light and enjoyment from the world around her because she saw herself as a victim, and just like anyone who’s suffered at the hands of others, she had the irresistible urge to lash out.

That’s why she took so much joy in telling June about Nick’s past. After all that time–the pillow talk, the moments they shared with Nichole in the nursery, and the outpouring of love between them–Nick never told June what he did before Gilead.

When she found out, it was like the earth had been pulled out from beneath her. Her eyes went wide. She stared into space–profoundly disturbed by something she could not accept. The man she loved was a soldier in the Crusade.

Nick the Crusader

We don’t often hear the term “Crusade” in The Handmaid’s Tale. Characters usually refer to it as the War, but to believers it was more than that. It was Jihad, commanded by the Lord God Himself through His mouthpiece on Earth, the Sons of Jacob.

It began in secret. While the public was debating the fallen birthrate and the climate crisis, the Sons of Jacob were laying out plans to infiltrate American institutions. Some chapters of the group were involved in removing children from sinful homes–a result of the privatization and a silent takeover of social services. They were also likely involved in government bureaucracy, intelligence, law enforcement, and almost certainly the American military.

Pryce’s recruitment efforts were a cog in a much larger machine. If the new system was going to take hold, they were going to need numbers–hoardes of young men, drawn from every available resource–churches, schools, Boy Scouts–maybe even jails and prisons. They needed to create an army capable of rivaling the greatest fighting force known to mankind.

Serena was the catalyst for all of this, from beginning to end. She was the philosophical founder of Gilead–famous for promoting what she had dubbed “domestic feminism.” She gave everything she had. She was arrested, shot, and demonized–labeled a Nazi and a fascist. She was not about to stand by and trust that the men would get things done.

After she was refused entrance into their meetings, she used Fred to make proposals on her behalf, including plans for the takeover of the American government.

On February 17, 2014, a group of men with machine guns walked into the capitol building and started shooting from the galleries, slaughtering Congress. Shortly after that, a bomb went off in the White House, killing the president and most of the cabinet. Similar plans were carried out with the Supreme Court. It was called the President’s Day Massacre–and no one would ever believe that a woman was responsible for the events that took place that day.

The attack was blamed on terrorists and martial law was declared under the guise of keeping the public safe. They suspended the Constitution and began dismantling what was left of the former government. The American officials that did survive salvaged what they could and fled to Alaska and Hawaii where they prepared for war.

Gilead didn’t announce its presence. Instead, they slowly rolled out a series of policy changes. There were ‘decency codes’ that restricted online material. Wives were forced to obtain their husband’s permission to receive contraception. Eventually, all women were barred from owning property or working. Their bank accounts were seized, and the money was sent to their next of kin.

At that point, the Guardians of the Faith were becoming a visible presence on the streets, and the public was starting to realize that something was very wrong. They flooded the airports and stormed the border, even going so far as to walk on foot to Mexico and Canada.

June said they were like frogs slowly boiling to death in a pot of water. They didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, and when they did, they were paralyzed with shock.

Americans were spoiled. They could do anything they wanted. They could stay up, sleep in, get drunk–walk down the street laughing at 2 in the morning. Being robbed of that autonomy was unnatural and cruel. It must’ve felt like mourning a loved one. But it was nothing compared to what the Sons of Jacob had planned.

The United States was perpetually working to maintain vital services, including firemen, police, and EMTs. They had to have the right numbers stationed throughout the right areas, or things could go awry. It was a struggle, but they made it work. Gilead needed more.

They needed soldiers, personal guards, men on call at every corner, and eyes on the public. It was the only way to stave off a revolt, especially in the early days when they were still trying to cement their power. In order to make that possible, the Sons of Jacob decided to thin the population with a holocaust. It was by far the worst massacre the world had ever seen, putting the Germans to absolute shame.

It began with the LGBTQ+ community. They were labeled gender traitors and persecuted for refusing to procreate. The government riled up the masses to hunt them down and sent Guardians door to door, sparing only the fertile women.

We don’t know the extent of the purges, but we do know that universities were cleansed. Dissidents were likely hunted. Anyone considered a burden to the state, including the disabled and elderly, was rounded up and executed. During her stay in the pens, June saw Guardians corralling them with dogs, tossing aside their walkers and crutches, shrieking at them to move. She was shocked by the ruthlessness.

Special attention was paid to members of other faiths. Author Margaret Atwood said this was to avoid competition and win the hearts of the masses.

Catholicism was banned. The Latter-day Saints were almost entirely eradicated, leaving behind a wound in Utah that never healed. Some sects joined militias and resistance groups. They took up arms and aided in the underground railroad. Even the Vatican joined in, creating fake passports for refugees.

In the series, racial minorities were assimilated into Gilead society. But in the books, they were subjected to fake repatriation campaigns, a cover for outright genocide. The regime taught that America was for whites. All others were unwelcome entities in a foreign land.

When June found out that Nick had taken part in the Crusade, it must’ve been a punch to the gut. The nation was made up of a mass of trauma victims, unable to reconcile with a harsh society that would not let them cope. Their lives were nothing but fear and pain; he helped make that happen.

What did he do? Did he execute gender traitors? Lead firing squads against the disabled? And why didn’t he run? There were places he could’ve gone. Chicago, New York, California, and Florida all resisted. Texas formed its own republic. Even in Gilead, there were cities that refused to conform, and they were never brought to heel. He could have lived a normal life and kept his conscience clean.

We may have to contend with the possibility that part of him believed. And that’s not easy, because we can’t just chalk that up to adolescent angst. He was too old. He was intelligent. He knew scripture. But he stayed, and he took part in something that cannot be forgiven.

Nick the Commander

When season 5 ended, Max Minghella (Nick) and Bradley Whitford (Joseph Lawrence) did a series of interviews where they spoke about Nick’s future.

According to Minghella, Nick was just starting to find himself and his place in the world. He was teaming up with Commander Lawrence, hoping to reform Gilead from within, all the while struggling to make a life for himself.

He had a wife, Rose, who by all accounts was a wonderful human being. She was witty and compassionate, and she was willing to overlook his dissidence. She also understood his attachment to June. But she needed him to come home to her at the end of the day.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Bruce Miller, showrunner of the series, said that season 5 was the most romantic because no matter how hard Nick and June tried to quit one another, they couldn’t. When June called, he was there. When she was in danger, he came running.

She was his weakness. He couldn’t wear the mask of a believer, not when it came to her. She meant too much to him, which is why, when he thought Commander Lawrence had sent an assassin to Canada, he burst into the Commander’s office and punched him in the face.

Nick knew he was putting his life at risk. He was showing everyone–including Commander MacKenzie–that he was loyal to public enemy number one, but he couldn’t hold himself back.

When Nick was arrested and Rose announced that their marriage was over, many viewers assumed that Nick would be executed. But according to Miller, the Commanders didn’t care about his crimes. They all slept with handmaids, and Nick was part of the elite, married to a High Commander’s daughter.

Miller said that in the episodes to come, Nick will be released from jail with a slap on the wrist, and Rose will be allowed to separate from him.

Miller also spoke about the nature of his writing process. He doesn’t believe in surprises. He wants viewers to know where the characters are going. He said Nick will end up exactly where we think, which means he’s going to leave Gilead.

He wasn’t comfortable with the regime–or the crimes he’d have to commit to survive there–and their system was predatory. The economy relied on captive workers. No matter what he accomplished with Lawrence, it would never be enough.

He’ll likely join Mr. Tuello across the border. Like Fred, he’ll be interviewed and asked to turn over state secrets. After that, he’ll fight. We don’t know how he’ll fight, but June inspired him to rebel. He’ll almost certainly find his way back to her. That means he’ll stay in Canada and work for Mayday, the Americans, or both.

If that is true, then when all is said and done, we will see him embracing Agnes and Nichole. He might even play a part in the battle that brings down the regime.