Epic, A Grimm story by BymagaJones 10/?
Feb. 14th, 2016 11:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bymagajonesChapter 9 here
Chapter 10
Nick watched Monroe scarf down his apple mixture thing over rice. He wasn’t surprised, considering Monroe really hadn’t been eating well since they’d rescued him, and he’d gone to bed without dinner the night before. Monroe’s brow knitted as he reviewed the list Nick had created.
Nick took the time to look over at the cook, who looked a little flustered but kept shooting glances over at their booth. The kid woged, and Nick gave a little hum of interest. “What’s the deal with the Siegbarste kid behind the grill?”
“Oh, Tony?” Monroe said absently. “His dad owns the place, and when his cook quit, the guy figured he could kill two birds with one stone: give his kid some direction and not have to find a cook with some actual experience.”
“It was nice watching you work your magic in the kitchen again,” Nick teased. In truth, he’d been impressed. He’d watched Monroe accepting incoming orders, cooking up the food as he showed the kid step by step how to handle each one. And evidently he worked in the time to make his own dish. “And I don’t recall seeing that apple… thing on the menu.”
“Apples and Onions.”
“Apples and Onions,” Nick repeated, glad he’d stuck with his burger.
“No, it’s good. Here.” Monroe turned the fork containing the last of his food toward Nick.
“Thanks, but I’m good.” Nick patted his stomach. “Huge burger, lots of fries…”
Monroe’s eyes narrowed. “Try it.”
Nick really wasn’t a fan of the whole combination. “Really, I’m –” In one blink, Monroe’s playful expression closed down, and he became that stranger Nick had faced in Lidiya’s bedroom. “ – ready,” he said, opening his mouth.
Monroe blinked again, uncertainty in his eyes, and Nick wondered if Monroe had always been this easy to read. He tried to remember, but it was difficult to move past the emotional events that had led them here. Nick closed his lips around the fork, tasting the sweetness of the apples wrapping around the sharpness of the onions. It was actually really, very good. He closed his eyes briefly, before opening them up and watching a rapt Monroe reclaim his fork.
Suddenly it was just the two of them, their eyes on each other. Nick could swear he could hear the thud of Monroe’s heart beating in time with his. It was all mixed up, the flavors still on his tongue, the heat coming from Monroe, the longing from within.
The drum of his phone on the table drew them from… whatever moment they’d just shared. With an effort, Nick pulled his eyes away and answered.
“Hey, man. I figured I’d check on you, see if you were ready to meet up.”
Nick mouthed, “Hank” to Monroe before saying, “We just finished eating.” He felt his face grow warm and was glad Hank wasn’t actually there. He knew Nick way too well.
“Okay. See you soon.”
Nick hung up, pulling out his wallet.
“I got it,” Monroe said, his wallet already open, his eyes searching for the waitress, his own cheeks a little flushed.
Nick filed the moment away to ponder when he had more time as he shoved his phone into his jacket.
“It’s on us, Monroe,” the waitress said, smiling at him. “Tony’s already handling things back there faster.” She leaned forward, her voice dipping. “We’re still recommending the burgers and fries to everyone, although that apple thing was really good, even if it didn’t have any meat in it.”
“Brenda, you don’t have to do that,” Monroe protested.
“It’s been hell here this morning,” she admitted. “He’s been slow, and his cooking…” she shuddered. “At least it’s faster now.”
“Well, thanks, then.” Monroe said, smiling at her.
She twirled her hair around a finger and tilted her head coyly as she said, “You just need to come back, maybe give him some refreshers from time to time.”
“He’ll get the hang of it,” Monroe said, totally oblivious. “He’s a smart kid, and he’s got you two to help him out.”
“I still hope we see you again,” Brenda said, leaning forward to take their plates. She bared a little cleavage, but Monroe’s attention had already wandered.
“So Hank needs you?”
“Yeah,” Nick said, watching Brenda almost run into a table because she was too focused on Monroe. He had to hold back a smile as he looked back at Monroe. “He has a crime scene that’s a little wonky. Wants me to come check it out. You can come with me if you want.”
“No,” Monroe shook his head, disturbed.
Nick didn’t understand the reaction but knew that this wasn’t the right time to get into it. “Want me to drop you off at the mall so you can get some clothes?”
Monroe shuddered as Nick dropped a five and three ones on the table.
Chuckling, Nick followed Monroe out to the car.
“What’d I say?”
“A mall? Really?”
“Well, I don’t know where to find the local plaids-r-us,” Nick said, laughing.
Monroe grumbled. “Just drop me off a little further into town.”
Nick followed Monroe’s directions, glad for his multitasking skills. Otherwise, he would’ve missed Monroe’s frown as the Blutbad realized that the city had changed a lot during his absence. He wouldn’t have noticed Monroe casually hiding his hands when they started shaking or the wince when Nick suspected that Monroe’s unprotected nail beds rubbed against his scratchy jeans.
He pulled over where Monroe directed, rolling down his window and waiting until the Blutbad had crossed around the front of the car to the sidewalk. “Monroe!” He called.
Monroe walked over to him.
He handed out his phone. “We’re gonna have to get together at some point, and you don’t have a phone. Just call Hank when you’re ready. He’s speed dial 2.”
Gingerly, Monroe took the phone like it was going to bite him if he weren’t careful. “What if you finish first?”
Nick grinned at him. “Then we’ll call you. We know the number.”
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
Monroe watched Nick merge effortlessly into traffic and huffed a laugh as he stared down at Nick’s phone. He wasn’t sure why it felt so personal. “It’s just a phone,” he growled to himself as he shoved it in his jacket pocket and looked around to get his bearings.
He’d expected the city to have changed in the time he’d been gone. Stores closed and opened all the time. But either the city had moved forward at a much more rapid pace than he’d thought or the bad Grimm had shaken up a lot more in Monroe’s noggin than he’d realized.
Grounding himself, he headed over to his first stop, the first one on his mental list and one that Nick hadn’t even thought about, strangely enough: the bank.
He’d had to walk bit after that to try to wrap his head around how much money he had in his accounts.
Because of his clockwork skill, Monroe had been able to charge quite a fee for his services, and while he tended to fuel his body with the more expensive items – organic food and drink tended to cost more than ones filled with dangerous chemicals, go figure – he didn’t really live a lavish lifestyle. So he’d walked away from a fair amount of money. What he hadn’t considered was that someone would want to buy the lot of ash that had been his house and that they’d be willing to pay so much for it. It had also never occurred to him that Nick would close up his existing accounts and open two: one that had made him quite a penny in interest that he wasn’t going to be able to access for a little while and one that still contained a hefty chunk with funds available immediately with the debit card that Nick had received on Monroe’s behalf. While he was there, Monroe started to order checks – because yeah, he was that guy who would take out his checkbook from time to time – but then he realized that he didn’t know his new address.
He created a new mental list of things he was beginning to realize he needed to know about his new situation and sighed. He hated these kinds of conversations.
Now that he had a better idea of the kind of money he was working with, he adjusted the order of his plans and headed down the street.
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
Nick stepped over the crime scene tape and walked over to Hank, who was leaning against his car at the curb.
“What do you think?”
Nick looked back at the house. “I’m not getting any Wesen vibes from there. I think it’s just a really sick human.”
“Think we should see if Monroe will come through, use that sniffer of his?”
Nick shook his head. “He’s not up to it yet.” He didn’t want to explain that Monroe didn’t seem to be able to woge or even tap into his inner wolf anymore, especially since it was something that Nick only knew because of how closely he watched Monroe, not because Monroe had chosen to share. Besides, wasn’t Nick’s secret to tell.
Hank shook his head, sighing. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.”
“Well, this case doesn’t seem to be any of my business, so I’m relieved.”
Hank stared at him silently for a few seconds, a small smile on his face.
“What? Something on my face?” Nick swiped at his cheeks.
“You’re happy.”
Nick was expecting Hank to wipe a crumb off his cheek or point out a stain on his shirt, not the bizarre comment thrown his way. “Come again?”
“You’re happy,” Hank repeated. “After – well, after, you just kind of closed yourself off. And while you got a little better as time went on, you rarely smiled. You had this, I don’t know, determination, this weight hanging off you. But today you seem lighter.” He smiled. “I’m not gonna lie; I was worried about this whole Monroe thing. But somehow the two of you fit, just like you fit before.”
“Uh, thanks?” Nick said, huffing out a laugh.
Hank’s smile widened. “You’re welcome.”
“Did Monroe call? I gave him my phone since he doesn’t have one of his own yet and told him to call you.”
Hank shook his head. “Not yet. I have to head back, work this thing since you won’t take it off my hands.”
“Let me use your phone for sec, coordinate with Monroe.” Nick reached out his hand and made a grabbing motion, and in seconds, Nick was waiting for Monroe to pick up. Frowning when he got his own voice mail, he hung up and tried again. He started to get worried when his voice mail picked up a second time. Resolved to activate the GPS if Monroe didn’t pick up, he tried a final time.
Monroe answered after the second ring, his voice shouting from a distance. “Hello? Hang on! Hold on a second!” A few fumbling seconds later, and Monroe said, “Hello? Nick? Hank?”
It was like Monroe had never used a phone before. “Monroe? What are you doing?”
“Sorry. It’s been a while, and I’d forgotten I had your phone. I heard it ringing and had to find it. The second time I dropped it –”
“Wow. We gonna have to practice when we get home?”
A sigh. “Man, give me a break. It’s been, like, two years, and I’ve been back for less than twenty-four hours.”
Suddenly Nick grew concerned. Maybe after being alone for so long, being back in Portland was too much too soon. Nick should’ve stayed with him. He should’ve made Monroe come with him and just wait in the car, then they could’ve run errands together.
Monroe seemed to read his mind. “Nick, I’m fine. I may not have a handle on the phone thing, but otherwise, it’s all good. Are you going to need to work with Hank tonight?”
“This looks like one very disturbed human being, so Hank and Wu are on their own. I just need to run by my office and pick up my stuff. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.”
Nick found himself comforted by the fact that Monroe still couldn’t lie worth a damn. He sounded exhausted. “How about I pick you up, we head over to the office so I can pick up my stuff, and then we stop by the store on our way home?”
“We also need to figure out what we’re going to feed Hank and Wu for dinner.”
“Right! Dinner.”
“We’re not gonna be able to make it,” Hank said, tilting his head toward the house.
“I just handed the case right back to them, so they’re going to have to take a rain check,” Nick said, smiling at Monroe’s barely audible sigh of relief. He knew that Monroe liked the two men; it was just that he needed more time to get back into the swing of things. After all, he’d created a pretty isolated life for himself in Alaska before becoming kidnapped and living in more isolation in a cage. Nick cursed himself for not thinking of it before.
“Seriously, Nick. I’m a little tired, but otherwise, I’m fine. Look, I’m not quite finished yet. Why don’t you go grab your stuff, and then we can meet up and buy some dishes.”
“Dishes,” Nick repeated, a little confused.
“Utensils, plates, cups… the things civilized people use to contain and eat food?” Monroe’s worried tone made it obvious that he was picturing Nick using his fingers to eat food out of a box for the past few years.
“What I meant was, do we have to make it a thing?” He ignored Hank’s grin.
Monroe sighed. “A thing.”
“Yeah. It’s just, you know, stuff.”
“It’s stuff that you’re going to use everyday.”
“What I mean is, a fork’s a fork, right?”
Another sigh, this one filled with nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen drama. “Actually, balance is important. Some people like –”
“Monroe.”
“ – a heavier utensil, while other people like them a little lighter. And then there’re the tines –”
“Monroe!”
“What?”
“Since you’re obviously an expert in… tongs and stuff, why don’t you choose all of that?”
“But – ”
“Keep the receipts, and I’ll reimburse you.”
“It’s not about the money, Nick. It’s about making sure you get the right –”
“I trust you.”
“But I don’t know – ”
“Monroe. I trust you.”
Nick wasn’t sure if Monroe’s huff contained frustration, embarrassment, or a little of both. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Just get whatever you think is best.”
“But are you sure?” Monroe’s hesitation made Nick smile.
“Absolutely.”
“And the dishes and cups…”
“The dishes and the cups too.” Nick had to press his lips together to keep from laughing with Hank.
“Okay, then. That means I’ll need a little more time.”
“I’ll go through my messages at work, maybe call a few people back before heading out of the office. How about we meet in two hours?”
Nick could swear he could hear Monroe thinking hard before he said, “Two hours works. That should give me enough time.”
“Are you sure?”
“Two hours,” Monroe repeated, fatigue coloring his voice.
Nick suddenly felt guilty, the urge to see Monroe now, to make sure he was okay. He wanted to ask about the shaking, but he could barely bring it up when they were alone, much less over the phone with Hank standing right beside him. “You know what? How about we just pick up some plastic tonight –”
There was no mistaking Monroe’s gasp of outrage.
“Monroe,” Nick said, “you said you were tired. We can go buy all that stuff tomorrow.”
“I’m right outside the store. Let me just get it all now.”
“Are you sure? I can’t help but feel that I’m kind of giving you –”
“What is that? Is that the power button?”
“Don’t you turn off that phone!”
“Then stop talking stupid.”
“Fine,” Nick sighed, smiling. “I’ll call you once I’ve packed up the car. I don’t have a lot of stuff, so it shouldn’t take that long.”
“Sounds good.”
Nick was about to hang up when he heard Monroe shout, “Wait!” He brought the phone back to his ear. “I have one more question.”
“Shoot,” Nick said, digging the keys out of his pocket. There was a pause, sparking Nick’s curiosity.
“What’s our address?”
Nick would’ve laughed if he hadn’t needed to get the information from Hank.
Two hours later, he sat at a red light, watching Monroe waiting for him down the street on a bench, bags surrounding him like a homeless person who’d lost his grocery cart. Unlike the constant motion he’d been in years before, Monroe now sat perfectly still, hands resting on his thighs, staring unseeingly in front of him. The sight saddened Nick, who absently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he tried to come up with something to take their minds off of everything, if only for a little while. The light turned green, and he pulled in front of Monroe, having to honk the horn to get the Blutbad’s attention.
“Sorry,” Monroe said as he placed all of the bags in the back and got into the car. He offered Nick his phone back. “I bought my own.”
Nick shook his head. “Since you’ve got it, why don’t you program your new phone number into my speed dial.”
Monroe held the phone so far away it almost touched the dash. “I barely knew how to answer your phone when it rang,” he grumbled.
“I’ll talk you through it.”
“Fine,” Monroe said. “What number am I gonna be? Seven? No, you don’t know that many people well enough.”
“Funny.” Nick said dryly. “You’re number one.”
He felt more than saw Monroe pause. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t mention that he’d never deleted Monroe’s number or that Monroe had been at the top of the list since about a month into their friendship when he’d had to buy a replacement for the one a Klaustreich had crushed under his feet. At the time, he’d justified it because he knew Juliette and Hank’s numbers by heart and figured he’d probably need to access Monroe’s quickly in times of crisis. He talked Monroe through programming Monroe’s new number into his phone and then said, as he pulled into the grocery store parking lot, “You have a lot of bags there. How many flannel shirts and vests do you really need?”
Monroe glared at him. “For your information, I also bought the dishes and a really nice coffee maker and some organic coffee that I couldn’t resist.”
Making a mental note to leave his old coffee maker in the trunk so he could take it back to the office, Nick led the way into the store.
By the time they emerged, pushing two filled carts, Nick felt like he’d survived a battle that he wasn’t sure if he’d won. He’d thought they’d go in, get some staples and a few things for dinner and maybe breakfast and lunch the next day. In and out in maybe an hour, tops. Turned out, his idea of staples and Monroe’s were completely different. He’d planned on grabbing a few frozen dinners, maybe some canned soup and chips – he should’ve remembered who was walking beside him. Monroe needed all sorts of spices and fruits and vegetables, silently making a face at what he seemed to consider the lack of organic options.
Evidently they’d hit pay dirt in one of the aisles when Monroe gasped and grabbed Nick’s arm. “They have forbidden rice!” Nick thought Monroe’s head was going to explode when he added, almost reverently, “organic forbidden rice!” He scooped the dark rice into one of the plastic bags provided, explaining, “The legend goes that it got its name because only Chinese emperors were allowed to eat it. It’s high in iron, vitamin E, and it contains more antioxidants than blueberries!”
Nick wasn’t really up on his antioxidants, but he nodded. It was like watching the old Monroe, the one who got excited over really strange stuff. Nick had missed him, and if he had to stand there and listen to Monroe waxing poetic about how this forbidden rice had a similar “nutty” taste to brown rice, then he would do it gladly.
It didn’t mean he was going to eat the stuff, though.
He pushed his key in the ignition, turning to find Monroe’s head back, his eyes closed. He reached out and pressed his hand against Monroe’s forehead. “Checking for a fever,” he explained when Monroe tossed him a questioning look, although that was a bit of a lie. He’d just wanted to reach out and touch, and he was having a difficult time controlling that part of his urges.
“I’m okay,” Monroe said, “just maybe overdid it a little.”
“You should’ve let me pack the car,” Nick said, referring to Monroe’s insistence that he help Nick put the groceries into the trunk and backseat.
“You have no respect for delicate fruits and vegetables,” Monroe grumbled, opening his eyes briefly. “My artichokes would’ve been bruised.”
“Ugh,” Nick said, removing his hand and starting the car. “Artichokes are nasty.”
“Not the way I make them,” Monroe said instantly, his tone so mild that it sounded like pure fact.
Nick added something else to his mental not-to-eat list, glad he’d ignored Monroe’s sighs as he’d tossed chips into his basket.
“And next time, I pay,” he remembered to add.
Monroe hummed. “You bought the house; you’re driving the car. I paid for some food,” he said like they were keeping score.
“I needed some place to live too,” Nick pointed out.
“And I need to eat too,” Monroe countered. “Besides, you already had somewhere to live. Sure, it sounds like a hovel, but you were fine with it.”
Nick didn’t want to explain how he had just been treading water, how the room with his stuff shoved in boxes was his way of existing, not living. But now that Monroe was back, he suddenly remembered what it was like to have more, and that room wasn’t going to cut it anymore. It sounded too desperate, like he was relying on his friend for happiness. He supposed that was a little bit true, but Monroe didn’t need to know about that. “We’ll have to sit down and come up with some sort of… division,” he decided. “Let me figure out what Hank did with all my money while I was gone first.”
“Sure,” Monroe said, using a tone that Nick knew meant that Monroe was going to do his best to impart what he considered his fair share until they’d ironed out a clear agreement.
A few minutes of silence later, Nick spotted a takeout Chinese place, and after a quick glance to confirm that Monroe was asleep, Nick made an executive decision. He placed the hot food in the trunk and was pulling into the driveway when Monroe sighed and stretched.
“So you think we’re ever going to have to close those?” Monroe asked as they passed through the open wrought-iron gate.
“I hope not,” Nick muttered, pulling up to the house. “Look, your hands are still healing, and you just passed out on the way here. Let me unload the car.” He saw Monroe’s mulish look and added, “besides, you know if you leave it up to me, I’ll unpack all this stuff, and you won’t be able to find it until you have to follow the smell of rotting food.”
That did it, although Monroe insisted on carrying two bags with him as they entered the house. After that, they got into a rhythm with Nick carrying the bags into the house and Monroe putting everything away. Nick started with the groceries, then brought in his stuff – remembering to bypass the coffee machine – and then Monroe’s never-ending bags. He’d dropped the non-food, non-kitchen items in the empty living room and left Monroe excitedly pawing through his purchases while Nick made the final run to the car for the Chinese food.
“We just bought all this food,” Monroe complained when he sniffed the air.
“Yeah, but neither one of us is in the mood to cook tonight,” Nick said, knowing full well that it would’ve been Monroe to man the stove.
Monroe’s look expressed the same sentiment, and after a second, he sighed. “Yeah. Thanks.” He brightened and bent down, picking up a box of….dishware. “And I found the perfect plates! They were on sale.” He continued extolling the virtues of the off-white, square plates and the utensils and cups he’d purchased as they moved back into the kitchen, his shoulders relaxing once he seemed to realize that Nick approved. Again they settled into a comfortable routine, Nick using the box cutter he always kept handy to open the boxes while Monroe washed a plate and fork for each of them, leaving the rest of the dishes and utensils in the sink. Nick pushed the brown rice and vegetarian dishes he’d remembered that Monroe had liked toward the Blutbad, keeping the white rice and general Tso’s chicken for himself.
Taking their plates, they walked into the living room and sat on the floor, facing one of the windows. They ate silently, the occasional sound of metal scraping against plate the only sound in the room.
They finished, setting aside their plates and leaning back against their hands, their ankles crossed.
“We’re really going to have to get some furniture,” Nick finally said.
“And curtains,” Monroe added with a smile. “Oh, and also? You’re gonna have to mark your entire property.”
Entry with links to each chapter
Chapter 10
Nick watched Monroe scarf down his apple mixture thing over rice. He wasn’t surprised, considering Monroe really hadn’t been eating well since they’d rescued him, and he’d gone to bed without dinner the night before. Monroe’s brow knitted as he reviewed the list Nick had created.
Nick took the time to look over at the cook, who looked a little flustered but kept shooting glances over at their booth. The kid woged, and Nick gave a little hum of interest. “What’s the deal with the Siegbarste kid behind the grill?”
“Oh, Tony?” Monroe said absently. “His dad owns the place, and when his cook quit, the guy figured he could kill two birds with one stone: give his kid some direction and not have to find a cook with some actual experience.”
“It was nice watching you work your magic in the kitchen again,” Nick teased. In truth, he’d been impressed. He’d watched Monroe accepting incoming orders, cooking up the food as he showed the kid step by step how to handle each one. And evidently he worked in the time to make his own dish. “And I don’t recall seeing that apple… thing on the menu.”
“Apples and Onions.”
“Apples and Onions,” Nick repeated, glad he’d stuck with his burger.
“No, it’s good. Here.” Monroe turned the fork containing the last of his food toward Nick.
“Thanks, but I’m good.” Nick patted his stomach. “Huge burger, lots of fries…”
Monroe’s eyes narrowed. “Try it.”
Nick really wasn’t a fan of the whole combination. “Really, I’m –” In one blink, Monroe’s playful expression closed down, and he became that stranger Nick had faced in Lidiya’s bedroom. “ – ready,” he said, opening his mouth.
Monroe blinked again, uncertainty in his eyes, and Nick wondered if Monroe had always been this easy to read. He tried to remember, but it was difficult to move past the emotional events that had led them here. Nick closed his lips around the fork, tasting the sweetness of the apples wrapping around the sharpness of the onions. It was actually really, very good. He closed his eyes briefly, before opening them up and watching a rapt Monroe reclaim his fork.
Suddenly it was just the two of them, their eyes on each other. Nick could swear he could hear the thud of Monroe’s heart beating in time with his. It was all mixed up, the flavors still on his tongue, the heat coming from Monroe, the longing from within.
The drum of his phone on the table drew them from… whatever moment they’d just shared. With an effort, Nick pulled his eyes away and answered.
“Hey, man. I figured I’d check on you, see if you were ready to meet up.”
Nick mouthed, “Hank” to Monroe before saying, “We just finished eating.” He felt his face grow warm and was glad Hank wasn’t actually there. He knew Nick way too well.
“Okay. See you soon.”
Nick hung up, pulling out his wallet.
“I got it,” Monroe said, his wallet already open, his eyes searching for the waitress, his own cheeks a little flushed.
Nick filed the moment away to ponder when he had more time as he shoved his phone into his jacket.
“It’s on us, Monroe,” the waitress said, smiling at him. “Tony’s already handling things back there faster.” She leaned forward, her voice dipping. “We’re still recommending the burgers and fries to everyone, although that apple thing was really good, even if it didn’t have any meat in it.”
“Brenda, you don’t have to do that,” Monroe protested.
“It’s been hell here this morning,” she admitted. “He’s been slow, and his cooking…” she shuddered. “At least it’s faster now.”
“Well, thanks, then.” Monroe said, smiling at her.
She twirled her hair around a finger and tilted her head coyly as she said, “You just need to come back, maybe give him some refreshers from time to time.”
“He’ll get the hang of it,” Monroe said, totally oblivious. “He’s a smart kid, and he’s got you two to help him out.”
“I still hope we see you again,” Brenda said, leaning forward to take their plates. She bared a little cleavage, but Monroe’s attention had already wandered.
“So Hank needs you?”
“Yeah,” Nick said, watching Brenda almost run into a table because she was too focused on Monroe. He had to hold back a smile as he looked back at Monroe. “He has a crime scene that’s a little wonky. Wants me to come check it out. You can come with me if you want.”
“No,” Monroe shook his head, disturbed.
Nick didn’t understand the reaction but knew that this wasn’t the right time to get into it. “Want me to drop you off at the mall so you can get some clothes?”
Monroe shuddered as Nick dropped a five and three ones on the table.
Chuckling, Nick followed Monroe out to the car.
“What’d I say?”
“A mall? Really?”
“Well, I don’t know where to find the local plaids-r-us,” Nick said, laughing.
Monroe grumbled. “Just drop me off a little further into town.”
Nick followed Monroe’s directions, glad for his multitasking skills. Otherwise, he would’ve missed Monroe’s frown as the Blutbad realized that the city had changed a lot during his absence. He wouldn’t have noticed Monroe casually hiding his hands when they started shaking or the wince when Nick suspected that Monroe’s unprotected nail beds rubbed against his scratchy jeans.
He pulled over where Monroe directed, rolling down his window and waiting until the Blutbad had crossed around the front of the car to the sidewalk. “Monroe!” He called.
Monroe walked over to him.
He handed out his phone. “We’re gonna have to get together at some point, and you don’t have a phone. Just call Hank when you’re ready. He’s speed dial 2.”
Gingerly, Monroe took the phone like it was going to bite him if he weren’t careful. “What if you finish first?”
Nick grinned at him. “Then we’ll call you. We know the number.”
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
Monroe watched Nick merge effortlessly into traffic and huffed a laugh as he stared down at Nick’s phone. He wasn’t sure why it felt so personal. “It’s just a phone,” he growled to himself as he shoved it in his jacket pocket and looked around to get his bearings.
He’d expected the city to have changed in the time he’d been gone. Stores closed and opened all the time. But either the city had moved forward at a much more rapid pace than he’d thought or the bad Grimm had shaken up a lot more in Monroe’s noggin than he’d realized.
Grounding himself, he headed over to his first stop, the first one on his mental list and one that Nick hadn’t even thought about, strangely enough: the bank.
He’d had to walk bit after that to try to wrap his head around how much money he had in his accounts.
Because of his clockwork skill, Monroe had been able to charge quite a fee for his services, and while he tended to fuel his body with the more expensive items – organic food and drink tended to cost more than ones filled with dangerous chemicals, go figure – he didn’t really live a lavish lifestyle. So he’d walked away from a fair amount of money. What he hadn’t considered was that someone would want to buy the lot of ash that had been his house and that they’d be willing to pay so much for it. It had also never occurred to him that Nick would close up his existing accounts and open two: one that had made him quite a penny in interest that he wasn’t going to be able to access for a little while and one that still contained a hefty chunk with funds available immediately with the debit card that Nick had received on Monroe’s behalf. While he was there, Monroe started to order checks – because yeah, he was that guy who would take out his checkbook from time to time – but then he realized that he didn’t know his new address.
He created a new mental list of things he was beginning to realize he needed to know about his new situation and sighed. He hated these kinds of conversations.
Now that he had a better idea of the kind of money he was working with, he adjusted the order of his plans and headed down the street.
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
Nick stepped over the crime scene tape and walked over to Hank, who was leaning against his car at the curb.
“What do you think?”
Nick looked back at the house. “I’m not getting any Wesen vibes from there. I think it’s just a really sick human.”
“Think we should see if Monroe will come through, use that sniffer of his?”
Nick shook his head. “He’s not up to it yet.” He didn’t want to explain that Monroe didn’t seem to be able to woge or even tap into his inner wolf anymore, especially since it was something that Nick only knew because of how closely he watched Monroe, not because Monroe had chosen to share. Besides, wasn’t Nick’s secret to tell.
Hank shook his head, sighing. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.”
“Well, this case doesn’t seem to be any of my business, so I’m relieved.”
Hank stared at him silently for a few seconds, a small smile on his face.
“What? Something on my face?” Nick swiped at his cheeks.
“You’re happy.”
Nick was expecting Hank to wipe a crumb off his cheek or point out a stain on his shirt, not the bizarre comment thrown his way. “Come again?”
“You’re happy,” Hank repeated. “After – well, after, you just kind of closed yourself off. And while you got a little better as time went on, you rarely smiled. You had this, I don’t know, determination, this weight hanging off you. But today you seem lighter.” He smiled. “I’m not gonna lie; I was worried about this whole Monroe thing. But somehow the two of you fit, just like you fit before.”
“Uh, thanks?” Nick said, huffing out a laugh.
Hank’s smile widened. “You’re welcome.”
“Did Monroe call? I gave him my phone since he doesn’t have one of his own yet and told him to call you.”
Hank shook his head. “Not yet. I have to head back, work this thing since you won’t take it off my hands.”
“Let me use your phone for sec, coordinate with Monroe.” Nick reached out his hand and made a grabbing motion, and in seconds, Nick was waiting for Monroe to pick up. Frowning when he got his own voice mail, he hung up and tried again. He started to get worried when his voice mail picked up a second time. Resolved to activate the GPS if Monroe didn’t pick up, he tried a final time.
Monroe answered after the second ring, his voice shouting from a distance. “Hello? Hang on! Hold on a second!” A few fumbling seconds later, and Monroe said, “Hello? Nick? Hank?”
It was like Monroe had never used a phone before. “Monroe? What are you doing?”
“Sorry. It’s been a while, and I’d forgotten I had your phone. I heard it ringing and had to find it. The second time I dropped it –”
“Wow. We gonna have to practice when we get home?”
A sigh. “Man, give me a break. It’s been, like, two years, and I’ve been back for less than twenty-four hours.”
Suddenly Nick grew concerned. Maybe after being alone for so long, being back in Portland was too much too soon. Nick should’ve stayed with him. He should’ve made Monroe come with him and just wait in the car, then they could’ve run errands together.
Monroe seemed to read his mind. “Nick, I’m fine. I may not have a handle on the phone thing, but otherwise, it’s all good. Are you going to need to work with Hank tonight?”
“This looks like one very disturbed human being, so Hank and Wu are on their own. I just need to run by my office and pick up my stuff. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.”
Nick found himself comforted by the fact that Monroe still couldn’t lie worth a damn. He sounded exhausted. “How about I pick you up, we head over to the office so I can pick up my stuff, and then we stop by the store on our way home?”
“We also need to figure out what we’re going to feed Hank and Wu for dinner.”
“Right! Dinner.”
“We’re not gonna be able to make it,” Hank said, tilting his head toward the house.
“I just handed the case right back to them, so they’re going to have to take a rain check,” Nick said, smiling at Monroe’s barely audible sigh of relief. He knew that Monroe liked the two men; it was just that he needed more time to get back into the swing of things. After all, he’d created a pretty isolated life for himself in Alaska before becoming kidnapped and living in more isolation in a cage. Nick cursed himself for not thinking of it before.
“Seriously, Nick. I’m a little tired, but otherwise, I’m fine. Look, I’m not quite finished yet. Why don’t you go grab your stuff, and then we can meet up and buy some dishes.”
“Dishes,” Nick repeated, a little confused.
“Utensils, plates, cups… the things civilized people use to contain and eat food?” Monroe’s worried tone made it obvious that he was picturing Nick using his fingers to eat food out of a box for the past few years.
“What I meant was, do we have to make it a thing?” He ignored Hank’s grin.
Monroe sighed. “A thing.”
“Yeah. It’s just, you know, stuff.”
“It’s stuff that you’re going to use everyday.”
“What I mean is, a fork’s a fork, right?”
Another sigh, this one filled with nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen drama. “Actually, balance is important. Some people like –”
“Monroe.”
“ – a heavier utensil, while other people like them a little lighter. And then there’re the tines –”
“Monroe!”
“What?”
“Since you’re obviously an expert in… tongs and stuff, why don’t you choose all of that?”
“But – ”
“Keep the receipts, and I’ll reimburse you.”
“It’s not about the money, Nick. It’s about making sure you get the right –”
“I trust you.”
“But I don’t know – ”
“Monroe. I trust you.”
Nick wasn’t sure if Monroe’s huff contained frustration, embarrassment, or a little of both. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Just get whatever you think is best.”
“But are you sure?” Monroe’s hesitation made Nick smile.
“Absolutely.”
“And the dishes and cups…”
“The dishes and the cups too.” Nick had to press his lips together to keep from laughing with Hank.
“Okay, then. That means I’ll need a little more time.”
“I’ll go through my messages at work, maybe call a few people back before heading out of the office. How about we meet in two hours?”
Nick could swear he could hear Monroe thinking hard before he said, “Two hours works. That should give me enough time.”
“Are you sure?”
“Two hours,” Monroe repeated, fatigue coloring his voice.
Nick suddenly felt guilty, the urge to see Monroe now, to make sure he was okay. He wanted to ask about the shaking, but he could barely bring it up when they were alone, much less over the phone with Hank standing right beside him. “You know what? How about we just pick up some plastic tonight –”
There was no mistaking Monroe’s gasp of outrage.
“Monroe,” Nick said, “you said you were tired. We can go buy all that stuff tomorrow.”
“I’m right outside the store. Let me just get it all now.”
“Are you sure? I can’t help but feel that I’m kind of giving you –”
“What is that? Is that the power button?”
“Don’t you turn off that phone!”
“Then stop talking stupid.”
“Fine,” Nick sighed, smiling. “I’ll call you once I’ve packed up the car. I don’t have a lot of stuff, so it shouldn’t take that long.”
“Sounds good.”
Nick was about to hang up when he heard Monroe shout, “Wait!” He brought the phone back to his ear. “I have one more question.”
“Shoot,” Nick said, digging the keys out of his pocket. There was a pause, sparking Nick’s curiosity.
“What’s our address?”
Nick would’ve laughed if he hadn’t needed to get the information from Hank.
Two hours later, he sat at a red light, watching Monroe waiting for him down the street on a bench, bags surrounding him like a homeless person who’d lost his grocery cart. Unlike the constant motion he’d been in years before, Monroe now sat perfectly still, hands resting on his thighs, staring unseeingly in front of him. The sight saddened Nick, who absently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he tried to come up with something to take their minds off of everything, if only for a little while. The light turned green, and he pulled in front of Monroe, having to honk the horn to get the Blutbad’s attention.
“Sorry,” Monroe said as he placed all of the bags in the back and got into the car. He offered Nick his phone back. “I bought my own.”
Nick shook his head. “Since you’ve got it, why don’t you program your new phone number into my speed dial.”
Monroe held the phone so far away it almost touched the dash. “I barely knew how to answer your phone when it rang,” he grumbled.
“I’ll talk you through it.”
“Fine,” Monroe said. “What number am I gonna be? Seven? No, you don’t know that many people well enough.”
“Funny.” Nick said dryly. “You’re number one.”
He felt more than saw Monroe pause. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t mention that he’d never deleted Monroe’s number or that Monroe had been at the top of the list since about a month into their friendship when he’d had to buy a replacement for the one a Klaustreich had crushed under his feet. At the time, he’d justified it because he knew Juliette and Hank’s numbers by heart and figured he’d probably need to access Monroe’s quickly in times of crisis. He talked Monroe through programming Monroe’s new number into his phone and then said, as he pulled into the grocery store parking lot, “You have a lot of bags there. How many flannel shirts and vests do you really need?”
Monroe glared at him. “For your information, I also bought the dishes and a really nice coffee maker and some organic coffee that I couldn’t resist.”
Making a mental note to leave his old coffee maker in the trunk so he could take it back to the office, Nick led the way into the store.
By the time they emerged, pushing two filled carts, Nick felt like he’d survived a battle that he wasn’t sure if he’d won. He’d thought they’d go in, get some staples and a few things for dinner and maybe breakfast and lunch the next day. In and out in maybe an hour, tops. Turned out, his idea of staples and Monroe’s were completely different. He’d planned on grabbing a few frozen dinners, maybe some canned soup and chips – he should’ve remembered who was walking beside him. Monroe needed all sorts of spices and fruits and vegetables, silently making a face at what he seemed to consider the lack of organic options.
Evidently they’d hit pay dirt in one of the aisles when Monroe gasped and grabbed Nick’s arm. “They have forbidden rice!” Nick thought Monroe’s head was going to explode when he added, almost reverently, “organic forbidden rice!” He scooped the dark rice into one of the plastic bags provided, explaining, “The legend goes that it got its name because only Chinese emperors were allowed to eat it. It’s high in iron, vitamin E, and it contains more antioxidants than blueberries!”
Nick wasn’t really up on his antioxidants, but he nodded. It was like watching the old Monroe, the one who got excited over really strange stuff. Nick had missed him, and if he had to stand there and listen to Monroe waxing poetic about how this forbidden rice had a similar “nutty” taste to brown rice, then he would do it gladly.
It didn’t mean he was going to eat the stuff, though.
He pushed his key in the ignition, turning to find Monroe’s head back, his eyes closed. He reached out and pressed his hand against Monroe’s forehead. “Checking for a fever,” he explained when Monroe tossed him a questioning look, although that was a bit of a lie. He’d just wanted to reach out and touch, and he was having a difficult time controlling that part of his urges.
“I’m okay,” Monroe said, “just maybe overdid it a little.”
“You should’ve let me pack the car,” Nick said, referring to Monroe’s insistence that he help Nick put the groceries into the trunk and backseat.
“You have no respect for delicate fruits and vegetables,” Monroe grumbled, opening his eyes briefly. “My artichokes would’ve been bruised.”
“Ugh,” Nick said, removing his hand and starting the car. “Artichokes are nasty.”
“Not the way I make them,” Monroe said instantly, his tone so mild that it sounded like pure fact.
Nick added something else to his mental not-to-eat list, glad he’d ignored Monroe’s sighs as he’d tossed chips into his basket.
“And next time, I pay,” he remembered to add.
Monroe hummed. “You bought the house; you’re driving the car. I paid for some food,” he said like they were keeping score.
“I needed some place to live too,” Nick pointed out.
“And I need to eat too,” Monroe countered. “Besides, you already had somewhere to live. Sure, it sounds like a hovel, but you were fine with it.”
Nick didn’t want to explain how he had just been treading water, how the room with his stuff shoved in boxes was his way of existing, not living. But now that Monroe was back, he suddenly remembered what it was like to have more, and that room wasn’t going to cut it anymore. It sounded too desperate, like he was relying on his friend for happiness. He supposed that was a little bit true, but Monroe didn’t need to know about that. “We’ll have to sit down and come up with some sort of… division,” he decided. “Let me figure out what Hank did with all my money while I was gone first.”
“Sure,” Monroe said, using a tone that Nick knew meant that Monroe was going to do his best to impart what he considered his fair share until they’d ironed out a clear agreement.
A few minutes of silence later, Nick spotted a takeout Chinese place, and after a quick glance to confirm that Monroe was asleep, Nick made an executive decision. He placed the hot food in the trunk and was pulling into the driveway when Monroe sighed and stretched.
“So you think we’re ever going to have to close those?” Monroe asked as they passed through the open wrought-iron gate.
“I hope not,” Nick muttered, pulling up to the house. “Look, your hands are still healing, and you just passed out on the way here. Let me unload the car.” He saw Monroe’s mulish look and added, “besides, you know if you leave it up to me, I’ll unpack all this stuff, and you won’t be able to find it until you have to follow the smell of rotting food.”
That did it, although Monroe insisted on carrying two bags with him as they entered the house. After that, they got into a rhythm with Nick carrying the bags into the house and Monroe putting everything away. Nick started with the groceries, then brought in his stuff – remembering to bypass the coffee machine – and then Monroe’s never-ending bags. He’d dropped the non-food, non-kitchen items in the empty living room and left Monroe excitedly pawing through his purchases while Nick made the final run to the car for the Chinese food.
“We just bought all this food,” Monroe complained when he sniffed the air.
“Yeah, but neither one of us is in the mood to cook tonight,” Nick said, knowing full well that it would’ve been Monroe to man the stove.
Monroe’s look expressed the same sentiment, and after a second, he sighed. “Yeah. Thanks.” He brightened and bent down, picking up a box of….dishware. “And I found the perfect plates! They were on sale.” He continued extolling the virtues of the off-white, square plates and the utensils and cups he’d purchased as they moved back into the kitchen, his shoulders relaxing once he seemed to realize that Nick approved. Again they settled into a comfortable routine, Nick using the box cutter he always kept handy to open the boxes while Monroe washed a plate and fork for each of them, leaving the rest of the dishes and utensils in the sink. Nick pushed the brown rice and vegetarian dishes he’d remembered that Monroe had liked toward the Blutbad, keeping the white rice and general Tso’s chicken for himself.
Taking their plates, they walked into the living room and sat on the floor, facing one of the windows. They ate silently, the occasional sound of metal scraping against plate the only sound in the room.
They finished, setting aside their plates and leaning back against their hands, their ankles crossed.
“We’re really going to have to get some furniture,” Nick finally said.
“And curtains,” Monroe added with a smile. “Oh, and also? You’re gonna have to mark your entire property.”
Entry with links to each chapter
