Epic, A Grimm story by BymagaJones 4/?
Feb. 10th, 2016 11:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bymagajones Chapter 3 here
Chapter 4
Once he’d stepped foot in the castle, Nick had gone into Grimm mode. He wasn’t interested in killing humans, but he wasn’t going to shy away from taking out anyone standing between him and Monroe.
Turned out, the nameless group infiltrating this castle truly didn’t need his help. They dispersed efficiently, Nick following the two moving toward the cells. The two men in black they encountered were dispatched quickly and silently, leaving Nick to focus on each cell they passed – although he mentally changed the word to cages, because instead of bars built into the ceiling and floor, each one was literally a huge cage. Nick’s doubts beginning to surface after they’d gone halfway down the corridor. Maybe the intel was wrong. Maybe they’d just moved Monroe to another location. Maybe Nick was too late…
But then Nick saw a bruised, naked body, lying on the floor. It didn’t look like it was moving, and Nick’s heart began to pound. He barely recognized his hands throwing off the open lock and shoving the door open before skidding around the body, dropping to his knees when he recognized Monroe.
He held his own breath, letting it out in relief when he saw Monroe’s body shudder slightly. He wasn’t too late. He reached out to touch his friend, but he hesitated. There didn’t seem to be a place anywhere that wasn’t bruised or cut or bleeding, but Nick had to touch Monroe right then to prove that he was real, not another figment of his dreams. He gently pressed his hand to Monroe’s cheek and couldn’t believe it when one of Monroe’s eyes opened slightly, and Monroe mouthed, “Nick” before smiling softly, making at least three cuts on his mouth start to bleed.
“I’m here, Monroe. I’m going to get you out,” he promised just before Monroe passed out. “Although I don’t know how I’m going to do it,” he added to himself. Even as thin as he’d become, Monroe was still too big for Nick to handle by himself. He’d hoped that Monroe would be able to help him at least a little bit, but Nick could see that there was absolutely no chance of that happening.
Movement at the door had him automatically raising – and then lowering his knife when he recognized Greta.
Who was pushing a wheelbarrow.
“I’m not even going to ask where you found that,” Nick said gratefully as she pushed it further into the large cage.
By the time they’d stuffed Monroe into the wheelbarrow, Nick and Greta were both breathing heavily and smeared with Monroe’s blood, which stood out dramatically on their white coats. Monroe hadn’t even awakened or moaned in pain, and that worried Nick more than anything else. He couldn’t have come so close only to lose Monroe now. It was unacceptable.
“Can you handle it?” Greta asked.
Nick nodded, letting her take point as they retraced their steps to the boat.
Greta walked steadily, with purpose, shooting one guard in the forehead before he even noticed her, the gun with the silencer keeping the sound fairly muted, and sweeping her leg to knock down another so she could swiftly take a knife out of its sheath on her hip and stab the man with it.
Nick just kept moving past her as she finished dispatching the guard, his focus on maintaining his rhythm with the awkward wheelbarrow. He knew they didn’t have much time left to make the rendezvous, and he was anxious to get Monroe to a hospital as soon as possible.
Suddenly a man stepped out of the shadows, and one look and a feeling in his chest told Nick all he needed to know. As much as he wanted to get Monroe to safety, he realized that this man needed to be stopped.
The man and Nick shared more than their similar build.
“I didn’t expect another Grimm to try to take away my toy,” the man said in heavily accented English.
“He’s not a toy,” Nick said, moving the wheelbarrow to the side so he could free his hands.
The man shrugged. “Toy, pet, whatever. He’s a Blutbad. What do you care?”
Maybe he’d been around Renard’s contacts too long, but Nick didn’t feel the need to have a long discourse about his intentions toward Wesen, especially not with someone obviously a little crazy. A normal Grimm would’ve just killed Monroe and been done with it. But he’d obviously held Monroe for quite some time and tortured him. Plus, he’d had no problem with the idea of kidnapping and doing who knew what to a pregnant Fuchsbau.
Remembering he’d been told that this group wanted the Grimm alive, Nick decided to give a halfhearted attempt even as he slowly pulled a knife out of its sheath at his waist. “Give up, and you get to live.”
The Grimm smiled, white teeth surrounded by dark goatee. “Come on. We’re Grimms! We’re like brothers.” He stared behind Nick, his smile disappearing. “Oh, shit.”
Feeling his chance at killing the Grimm disappearing now that Greta had caught up with them, Nick lowered his arms, deciding to refocus on Monroe.
And that’s when the Grimm tackled him.
He went down hard, the breath knocked out of him, one arm caught between their two bodies. Luckily for him, he’d managed to grab one of the other Grimm’s arms and rolled over just far enough to the side to trap his other one.
“Looks like we’re at a stalemate,” the Grimm chuckled.
“Looks like not,” a female voice said just before a large knife slid into one of the Grimm’s ears.
Nick pushed the dead Grimm off and rose to his feet. “I thought the priority was keeping the Grimm alive.”
“I chose which Grimm I wanted to save,” Greta said with her fleeting grin. She pulled out the bloody knife, wiping it off on the dead Grimm’s grey lab coat. “We have a boat to catch, no?”
Nick returned her smile and grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow.
As he felt the sweat trickling down between his shoulder blades while he continued to push Monroe, he said to Greta, who was still taking out the various guards who got in their way, “You need to go. I don’t think we’re gonna make it in time.”
She shot him a withering look and raised her knife to the right, lowering it when she recognized the man in white. They spoke to each other briefly, and the man shoved Nick aside, grabbing the handles.
“Come on,” Greta said, pulling him ahead.
“I’m not leaving without him,” Nick said, his body half turned to Monroe and the man behind them.
“I know,” she said. “He is fresher. Let him take a turn so we will make the rendezvous.”
He couldn’t argue with that, especially since his body was beginning to protest the sparse amount of food and decent sleep he’d had recently. Hell if he even knew what day or time it was anymore.
One of the men was untying the dock lines as they arrived. Without comment, two of the men stepped off the boat and helped Nick and Greta ease Monroe’s limp body into the boat. Nick immediately pulled off his coat, wrapping it around Monroe’s naked shoulders and slid closer, gently putting Monroe’s head on his lap.
Monroe’s sweaty, greasy hair had grown longer, as had his matted beard, which had passed its need for a trim a good while back. Nick could still see Monroe’s sunken cheeks, the grey tone to his skin. Pressing a hand against Monroe’s neck, he felt the faint pulse and prayed that Monroe continued to fight. Motion down by Monroe’s legs caught his attention, and he watched a man wrapping one coat around Monroe’s waist and another around Monroe’s legs and feet.
“Spaseebah,” Nick said, pretty much the only Russian word he knew.
The man nodded and turned back toward his compatriots, leaving Nick with the illusion of privacy.
Threading his fingers through Monroe’s dirty hair, Nick bent down toward the Blutbad’s ear. “Keep fighting, Monroe, please.”
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
Pain. It had been Monroe’s constant companion through the last few… somethings. Even when he wasn’t sure he could take another breath, he felt pain radiating from his lower back and thrumming throughout the rest of his body. Sometimes, just to keep his sanity, he’d imagine Nick sitting beside him, running his fingers through his hair, and Monroe would apologize. He’d apologize for all of it. Nick never said anything; he just gave Monroe a sad smile and kept threading through Monroe’s hair. Even through all of that there was the pain, but Nick’s presence made it bearable.
And this was why he opened his eye and felt like something vitally important was missing. He blinked to find a pair of strange eyes in a wrinkled face inches from his own. The wrinkles rearranged themselves to reveal a smile, complete with a few teeth. He just closed his eye again.
The next time he awoke was to pain so intense that he screamed and shot to sitting. The fire was inside his veins again, but it was burning him, actually burning him. He recognized the scent of burned flesh and saw flames at his feet. He tried to beat at them with his hands, but the flames scored his palms and started to run up his arms. He couldn’t stop screaming as the heat licked up his chest…
“Monroe.”
“Monroe.”
He didn’t want to wake up. There was no pain when he was asleep, no one pulling out his fingernails, no one hating him.
“Monroe!”
He realized to his relief that he was still sleeping when he finally opened his eye and saw Nick sitting beside him.
DreamNick scooted closer and ran a hand over Monroe’s cheek. This was the Nick that Monroe loved best. He hated the DreamNick who stood in the corner of his cage, arms folded, rejection and blame on his face. He smiled. “Nick.” His voice was faint, scratchy and rough, but that was okay. DeamNick could always understand him.
“I’m here,” DreamNick said, as he always did.
“I’m sorry,” Monroe said. “I’m sorry for everything, for Juliette and Rosalee and Troubel, for destroying our friendship.”
“Monroe –”
“I’m not asking for your forgiveness; I know I don’t deserve it. But I still need you to know that I’m so –” and here’s where Monroe always had to fight for control, to force the tears back. “I’m just, so sorry.”
He let his body take him under again with relief.
Entry with links to each chapter
Chapter 4
Once he’d stepped foot in the castle, Nick had gone into Grimm mode. He wasn’t interested in killing humans, but he wasn’t going to shy away from taking out anyone standing between him and Monroe.
Turned out, the nameless group infiltrating this castle truly didn’t need his help. They dispersed efficiently, Nick following the two moving toward the cells. The two men in black they encountered were dispatched quickly and silently, leaving Nick to focus on each cell they passed – although he mentally changed the word to cages, because instead of bars built into the ceiling and floor, each one was literally a huge cage. Nick’s doubts beginning to surface after they’d gone halfway down the corridor. Maybe the intel was wrong. Maybe they’d just moved Monroe to another location. Maybe Nick was too late…
But then Nick saw a bruised, naked body, lying on the floor. It didn’t look like it was moving, and Nick’s heart began to pound. He barely recognized his hands throwing off the open lock and shoving the door open before skidding around the body, dropping to his knees when he recognized Monroe.
He held his own breath, letting it out in relief when he saw Monroe’s body shudder slightly. He wasn’t too late. He reached out to touch his friend, but he hesitated. There didn’t seem to be a place anywhere that wasn’t bruised or cut or bleeding, but Nick had to touch Monroe right then to prove that he was real, not another figment of his dreams. He gently pressed his hand to Monroe’s cheek and couldn’t believe it when one of Monroe’s eyes opened slightly, and Monroe mouthed, “Nick” before smiling softly, making at least three cuts on his mouth start to bleed.
“I’m here, Monroe. I’m going to get you out,” he promised just before Monroe passed out. “Although I don’t know how I’m going to do it,” he added to himself. Even as thin as he’d become, Monroe was still too big for Nick to handle by himself. He’d hoped that Monroe would be able to help him at least a little bit, but Nick could see that there was absolutely no chance of that happening.
Movement at the door had him automatically raising – and then lowering his knife when he recognized Greta.
Who was pushing a wheelbarrow.
“I’m not even going to ask where you found that,” Nick said gratefully as she pushed it further into the large cage.
By the time they’d stuffed Monroe into the wheelbarrow, Nick and Greta were both breathing heavily and smeared with Monroe’s blood, which stood out dramatically on their white coats. Monroe hadn’t even awakened or moaned in pain, and that worried Nick more than anything else. He couldn’t have come so close only to lose Monroe now. It was unacceptable.
“Can you handle it?” Greta asked.
Nick nodded, letting her take point as they retraced their steps to the boat.
Greta walked steadily, with purpose, shooting one guard in the forehead before he even noticed her, the gun with the silencer keeping the sound fairly muted, and sweeping her leg to knock down another so she could swiftly take a knife out of its sheath on her hip and stab the man with it.
Nick just kept moving past her as she finished dispatching the guard, his focus on maintaining his rhythm with the awkward wheelbarrow. He knew they didn’t have much time left to make the rendezvous, and he was anxious to get Monroe to a hospital as soon as possible.
Suddenly a man stepped out of the shadows, and one look and a feeling in his chest told Nick all he needed to know. As much as he wanted to get Monroe to safety, he realized that this man needed to be stopped.
The man and Nick shared more than their similar build.
“I didn’t expect another Grimm to try to take away my toy,” the man said in heavily accented English.
“He’s not a toy,” Nick said, moving the wheelbarrow to the side so he could free his hands.
The man shrugged. “Toy, pet, whatever. He’s a Blutbad. What do you care?”
Maybe he’d been around Renard’s contacts too long, but Nick didn’t feel the need to have a long discourse about his intentions toward Wesen, especially not with someone obviously a little crazy. A normal Grimm would’ve just killed Monroe and been done with it. But he’d obviously held Monroe for quite some time and tortured him. Plus, he’d had no problem with the idea of kidnapping and doing who knew what to a pregnant Fuchsbau.
Remembering he’d been told that this group wanted the Grimm alive, Nick decided to give a halfhearted attempt even as he slowly pulled a knife out of its sheath at his waist. “Give up, and you get to live.”
The Grimm smiled, white teeth surrounded by dark goatee. “Come on. We’re Grimms! We’re like brothers.” He stared behind Nick, his smile disappearing. “Oh, shit.”
Feeling his chance at killing the Grimm disappearing now that Greta had caught up with them, Nick lowered his arms, deciding to refocus on Monroe.
And that’s when the Grimm tackled him.
He went down hard, the breath knocked out of him, one arm caught between their two bodies. Luckily for him, he’d managed to grab one of the other Grimm’s arms and rolled over just far enough to the side to trap his other one.
“Looks like we’re at a stalemate,” the Grimm chuckled.
“Looks like not,” a female voice said just before a large knife slid into one of the Grimm’s ears.
Nick pushed the dead Grimm off and rose to his feet. “I thought the priority was keeping the Grimm alive.”
“I chose which Grimm I wanted to save,” Greta said with her fleeting grin. She pulled out the bloody knife, wiping it off on the dead Grimm’s grey lab coat. “We have a boat to catch, no?”
Nick returned her smile and grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow.
As he felt the sweat trickling down between his shoulder blades while he continued to push Monroe, he said to Greta, who was still taking out the various guards who got in their way, “You need to go. I don’t think we’re gonna make it in time.”
She shot him a withering look and raised her knife to the right, lowering it when she recognized the man in white. They spoke to each other briefly, and the man shoved Nick aside, grabbing the handles.
“Come on,” Greta said, pulling him ahead.
“I’m not leaving without him,” Nick said, his body half turned to Monroe and the man behind them.
“I know,” she said. “He is fresher. Let him take a turn so we will make the rendezvous.”
He couldn’t argue with that, especially since his body was beginning to protest the sparse amount of food and decent sleep he’d had recently. Hell if he even knew what day or time it was anymore.
One of the men was untying the dock lines as they arrived. Without comment, two of the men stepped off the boat and helped Nick and Greta ease Monroe’s limp body into the boat. Nick immediately pulled off his coat, wrapping it around Monroe’s naked shoulders and slid closer, gently putting Monroe’s head on his lap.
Monroe’s sweaty, greasy hair had grown longer, as had his matted beard, which had passed its need for a trim a good while back. Nick could still see Monroe’s sunken cheeks, the grey tone to his skin. Pressing a hand against Monroe’s neck, he felt the faint pulse and prayed that Monroe continued to fight. Motion down by Monroe’s legs caught his attention, and he watched a man wrapping one coat around Monroe’s waist and another around Monroe’s legs and feet.
“Spaseebah,” Nick said, pretty much the only Russian word he knew.
The man nodded and turned back toward his compatriots, leaving Nick with the illusion of privacy.
Threading his fingers through Monroe’s dirty hair, Nick bent down toward the Blutbad’s ear. “Keep fighting, Monroe, please.”
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
Pain. It had been Monroe’s constant companion through the last few… somethings. Even when he wasn’t sure he could take another breath, he felt pain radiating from his lower back and thrumming throughout the rest of his body. Sometimes, just to keep his sanity, he’d imagine Nick sitting beside him, running his fingers through his hair, and Monroe would apologize. He’d apologize for all of it. Nick never said anything; he just gave Monroe a sad smile and kept threading through Monroe’s hair. Even through all of that there was the pain, but Nick’s presence made it bearable.
And this was why he opened his eye and felt like something vitally important was missing. He blinked to find a pair of strange eyes in a wrinkled face inches from his own. The wrinkles rearranged themselves to reveal a smile, complete with a few teeth. He just closed his eye again.
The next time he awoke was to pain so intense that he screamed and shot to sitting. The fire was inside his veins again, but it was burning him, actually burning him. He recognized the scent of burned flesh and saw flames at his feet. He tried to beat at them with his hands, but the flames scored his palms and started to run up his arms. He couldn’t stop screaming as the heat licked up his chest…
“Monroe.”
“Monroe.”
He didn’t want to wake up. There was no pain when he was asleep, no one pulling out his fingernails, no one hating him.
“Monroe!”
He realized to his relief that he was still sleeping when he finally opened his eye and saw Nick sitting beside him.
DreamNick scooted closer and ran a hand over Monroe’s cheek. This was the Nick that Monroe loved best. He hated the DreamNick who stood in the corner of his cage, arms folded, rejection and blame on his face. He smiled. “Nick.” His voice was faint, scratchy and rough, but that was okay. DeamNick could always understand him.
“I’m here,” DreamNick said, as he always did.
“I’m sorry,” Monroe said. “I’m sorry for everything, for Juliette and Rosalee and Troubel, for destroying our friendship.”
“Monroe –”
“I’m not asking for your forgiveness; I know I don’t deserve it. But I still need you to know that I’m so –” and here’s where Monroe always had to fight for control, to force the tears back. “I’m just, so sorry.”
He let his body take him under again with relief.
Entry with links to each chapter
