Epic, A Grimm story by BymagaJones 13/?
Feb. 17th, 2016 02:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bymagajonesChapter 12
Chapter 13
Monroe absently tore off the sheet of paper and folded it before putting it in his front pocket, trying to figure out what he’d done to make Nick so angry. Maybe Nick’d had enough of all of Monroe’s strange behavior. But no, Monroe thought, if that had been the case, he’d have gotten angry the night before after he’d driven them home. It had to be more than Nick’s being insulted by Monroe’s not wanting to take Nick’s credit card. Monroe picked it up, surprised to find it was also a debit card. He gently put the card back down on the counter. Was it the rent comment? Did Nick think that Monroe’s offering to pay rent was ungracious? But how could offering to help pay off the mortgage be a bad thing? Monroe sighed, wishing he had someone left he could talk to about it.
Until he could figure it out, he needed to start on his plan for the day. The first item, “Pick up car,” was going to be a little tougher now that he no longer had a ride. If he knew how to use the Internet on his phone, he could probably find the number to a cab service, but he just shoved the card into his wallet, grabbed his keys, and felt thankful that he’d bought a really comfortable pair of shoes.
He’d only been walking for about twenty minutes when a car pulled over in front of him. He stopped, wary. He didn’t recognize the vehicle; of course, the only ones he knew belonged to Nick, Hank, Barry, and now himself. He still hadn’t been able to woge, so he couldn’t let his inner wolf help him if he needed to defend himself.
The car honked, and a familiar head poked out of the driver’s side window. “Going my way, sailor?” Wu asked.
Huffing out a laugh, Monroe sped up and hopped into the passenger seat, automatically holding out his hands over the heater.
“Don’t you know hitchhiking is overrated?” Wu asked, pulling back onto the road. “And dangerous, even for men? I could throw out some statistics if you want.”
“No thank you. And I wasn’t holding out my thumb,” Monroe corrected. “As far as anyone was concerned, I was just out for a walk.” He looked up at the sky, noting that it was obviously going to start raining soon. “But I appreciate the lift.”
“No problem. Where’re we going?”
“I need to pick up my new used car,” he rattled off the address. “And then I’m heading to the public library.” He realized he wasn’t even sure which branch was closest.
Wu slid him a glance. “You that desperate for a good read?”
“We don’t have Internet access at the house yet… or a computer,” he realized, awkwardly pulling out the paper from his jeans and a pen with the car dealership logo to add buying an affordable laptop onto the list. “So I’m going to use the computers at the library.”
“What do you have to look up?”
“The only furniture we have in the house right now are our two beds and a coffee maker.”
“Ahh, your asses are demanding some respect, huh?” Wu said.
Monroe shook his head. He hadn’t really spent much time with Wu before, what with Wu’s being a cop and then his trying to stay sane after what he’d gone through with his friend. Monroe’d gathered from what he’d heard in passing from Nick and Hank that Wu was a little bit of a wiseass, but he found it a welcome relief from the confusion in his head. “Yeah. So I’m going to do some research, get an idea of how much things cost before I start looking around.”
“Need some help?”
Monroe looked at him, surprised.
Wu shrugged. “We broke the case late last night, and I’m off today.”
“Right! Nick mentioned that you’re now a detective! Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” Wu grinned. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to wear something other than that uniform. Of course, now I actually have to plan out what I wear every day, color coordinate, ‘cause you know, I gotta look sharp.”
Monroe smiled. “You sure you don’t have any plans?”
“It turns out that your body can indeed get too much sleep, and all of my non-alcoholic friends are at work. Besides, I just helped a friend redecorate her apartment, so I’m up on the current trends and prices. And,” he added with a wink, “I’m a damn good decorator if I say so myself.”
“I’m on a budget,” Monroe warned, “but Nick wants all new stuff.”
“Hank took me on a tour of your place when he was thinking of buying it, and it was right when I was finishing up with my friend, so I will admit to having a few ideas already. You have any restrictions?”
“No red,” Monroe said promptly. “And definitely no white,” he added, thinking of the mess the kids had made earlier.
“What about Nick?”
“All he said was that he wanted something comfortable.”
Wu laughed. “How about I chauffeur you around, take you to some of the places with the better deals, and we can pick up your car later?”
“That’d be great,” Monroe said. “I appreciate it.”
“I love spending other people’s money,” Wu said. “Besides, my one bedroom doesn’t give me many opportunities to decorate.”
To his surprise, Monroe found himself having a really good time. Wu kept things lighthearted and was indeed really good at not just finding bargains, but also matching furniture from different stores. Monroe still felt hesitant about making executive decisions, so before purchasing anything, he texted pictures of his choices to Nick (after a quick phone tutorial from Wu) for final approval. He’d been a little nervous as he waited for Nick’s first response, but the, “Is it going to coordinate well with our Pergo floors?” told him that whatever he’d done earlier was forgiven – or at least forgotten for the moment. After that, Nick always texted back promptly, usually with responses that explained his definite opinion: “Yes!”, “Ugh.”, “?!?!?”, “What IS that?”, “I love that sofa; buy one for every room in the house.”, “It looks like it’ll eat me alive.”, “Are we going with a putrescence color theme?” His only specific request was that Monroe made sure to buy them both dressers for their rooms because, “Diggn thru boxes sux.”
Almost every store had an employee who remembered Wu, who somehow made sure that every piece of furniture would be delivered the next day while Monroe was stuck at home waiting for the cable and internet installer.
By his closest estimation, they’d pretty much taken care of furnishing the living room, the two master bedrooms, and patio before they finally took a break. Realizing they were close to the diner he and Nick had eaten at a few days earlier, Monroe offered to treat Wu to a late lunch.
Brenda, the waitress from his last visit, walked up to the table, grin on her face. “If it’s not the mysterious cook from the other day!” She handed them the menus.
Monroe smiled back, feeling his face grow red as he introduced Wu, who of course had to ask about her comment. And of course she happily described Monroe’s last visit.
“Aren’t you the hero!” Wu teased, settling back in the booth as Brenda went to get their drink orders.
Monroe rolled his eyes and tried not to look embarrassed. “She embellished a lot,” he muttered.
“I don’t know, that Apples and Onions does sound pretty tasty.”
“It’s not printed on the menu, but we serve it now,” Tony walked up, the hair around his face curling damply. He held out his hand to Monroe. “You have no idea how much you helped me.”
“So things are going better?” Monroe asked, automatically shaking the young Siegbarste’s hand as he attempted to move the focus off him – and to keep his mind off of the potential health issues with Tony’s loose hair.
“Yeah, I mean it still gets pretty overwhelming, but I’m doing a lot better. Ask Brenda.” He beamed as she returned with the drinks.
“Even his daddy’s been impressed,” Brenda said, sending a little side smile to Tony.
“Wow, okay,” Monroe said, realizing that Tony’s father hadn’t been the only one impressed. He looked over at Wu, who gave him a little smirk.
“I’ll have the Apples and Onions then,” Wu said, handing his unopened menu back to Brenda.
“I make a pretty good steak too, as long as you either like it rare or well done,” Tony said to Monroe.
“He’s a vegetarian,” Wu answered before Monroe could open his mouth. After a brief pause, Wu looked at Monroe. “You’re still a vegetarian, right?”
Monroe nodded, not sure what surprised him more, the thought that Wu knew he was a vegetarian or the fact that he remembered.
“We have some salads,” Tony said uncertainly, and Monroe pictured iceberg lettuce and a few tomatoes. “Do vegetarians eat tuna fish?”
“Apples and Onions is fine,” Monroe said, choosing to ignore Wu’s snort.
Eventually Tony and Brenda had to return to work, and Monroe breathed a silent sigh of relief, finally relaxing back in his side of the booth. He hadn’t realized how stressful it had been to spend the entire day surrounded by people. He’d never really been one to thrive on attention anyway, but all of the time he’d spent in his self-imposed exile and subsequent imprisonment seemed to have only magnified his need to be alone.
“How long do you think they’ve been together?” Wu asked, tilting his head toward the two.
“They weren’t looking at each other like that the last time I was here,” Monroe admitted.
“Monroe the love doctor,” Wu teased.
It was a good thing they weren’t on a strict schedule, because while he might have made progress in the kitchen, Tony still needed to work on his speed. Eventually they got their food, but Monroe found that he was enjoying Wu’s presence so much that he wasn’t in any rush.
“This was really good,” Wu said, surprised as he placed his fork on the empty plate in front of him.
“Why did you order it if you didn’t think you’d like it?” Monroe asked.
Wu shrugged a shoulder. “I figured it would be harder to give me food poisoning.” He grinned. “So, what’s next?”
Monroe pulled out his paper, which by this time looked a little worse for wear, and smoothed it out on the table. “I need to get a laptop and pick up my car, and that’s it for the day.” While he didn’t order any himself, Monroe encouraged Wu to have dessert while they discussed computer options. Wu finally convinced Monroe to purchase a laptop that seemed way too powerful for his needs, but Wu pointed out that it could help Nick work from home too, and Monroe readily capitulated. Wu had Monroe agreeing to ride with him to the Apple store in Pioneer Place before Wu dropped Monroe off at the car dealership.
After a relatively painful computer purchase that took a sizable chunk out of his bank account – with an additional printer that was going to be pretty close to free after the rebate – Wu dropped Monroe off at the dealership, waving off Monroe’s thanks.
Luckily, driving a car proved the old adage about riding a bike true, and this time Monroe had no problems driving to the house in his new car.
Nick hadn’t arrived yet, so Monroe set up the computer and printer in a temporary spot on the kitchen island – creating a new furniture list with a computer desk and chair at the top - and started dinner. He wasn’t sure what time Nick was going to be home, but for some reason, he felt hesitant to call. And suddenly, his earlier confrontation with Nick was forefront in his mind.
Adjusting his breathing, Monroe concentrated on making dinner. This is what he loved about cooking, how the rinsing and cutting and mixing calmed him down, let him empty his mind of exhausting thoughts for a while. It had always been a brief respite from the chaos in his life.
“I’m home,” Nick called, slamming the door shut.
“I hope you haven’t eaten,” Monroe said, suddenly feeling a bit tentative. “I guess I should’ve called –”
“No, I haven’t eaten,” Nick said, smiling a slow smile that made Monroe’s stomach flutter just a little bit. He’d always liked that smile. “I did bring wine, though.” He waved a bottle in the air. “Hopefully it’ll go with whatever you’re cooking.” He also produced a twelve pack of beer, which he put in the fridge.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Monroe said, smiling as he pulled out the corkscrew. “Why don’t you open it up?” He pointed to a cabinet. “The glasses are in there.”
They worked for a couple of minutes in companionable silence, Monroe happy to be in Nick’s presence.
After he’d poured the wine, Nick leaned against the island, watching Monroe work. Eventually, he said, “I want to apologize for earlier.”
Even though he knew it was something they needed to talk about, Monroe felt himself tensing. “Yeah, about that,” he said, thankful he was facing the sink. “I was wondering what I did, or said, to piss you off.” The silence made him turn around to find Nick staring intently at his wine. Without thought, he walked over and nudged Nick’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“I know that we agreed that you’d leave here once you were all healed, but I’d been hoping that you’d change your mind and stay. Maybe it’s selfish, because I’ve missed having you here, but I thought that if you became invested in the house, you’d be less likely to leave. But you refuse to have any real attachment. It’s like you already have one foot out the door. Then you offered to pay rent, like you could just leave without looking back, and I guess I just snapped.” He handed Monroe a filled glass.
Monroe sighed. “I hadn’t really thought of it in terms like that, but I guess you’re right.” He took a sip while he collected his thoughts. “These last few years, I’ve made sure that I didn’t belong anywhere, because losing everything that night almost broke me. I don’t – I’m not sure –” He rolled his damp eyes and huffed an embarrassed laugh.
“You didn’t lose everything,” Nick said, pressing against Monroe as he pulled him in a one-armed hug. “I know I didn’t make it seem like it that night, but you have me. I’m here. And I promise I won’t let you down like that again.”
“You were hurting –”
“And you weren’t?” Nick shot back, pulling away and leaving Monroe feeling absurdly bereft. “You’d lost your home, Rosalee, Troubel, and Juliette – ”
“Troubel and Juliette –”
“ – were important to you too,” Nick insisted. “And then later, when I went looking for you to apologize, I found out about your parents.”
Monroe closed his eyes. He really, really didn’t want to have this conversation, but Nick seemed determined to clear the air, no matter how painful. A hand curved gently around Monroe’s cheek, and he opened his eyes to stare into Nick’s somber, beautiful gaze.
“I understand why you didn’t tell me. We were in the middle of searching for that arsonist, and things were crazy.”
Pushing away from the counter and Nick, Monroe headed into the kitchen, turning off the heat on the stovetop. “Do we have to get into this now?” He hated the pleading sound to his voice, but he really didn’t want to break down in front of Nick. He’d shoved everything down so far that bringing it back up was like pulling off a scab.
Nick followed behind him so closely that Monroe could feel the warmth in his back. “Why not now? Do you have some sort of emergency meeting you have to get to?” He darted in front of Monroe, pressing his hand against Monroe’s chest. It felt like blow even though it didn’t contain any of the strength the Grimm could’ve used. “Talk to me!”
“What do you want me to say?” Monroe shouted plaintively. He didn’t want to relive any of it ever again.
“I know it’s painful. I lost people I love too! But this...thing... is just going to be here between the two of us until we hash it out.”
“Fine,” Monroe ground out. Suddenly the room felt way too small. “I can’t do this in here.” He wanted to say, ‘I can’t do this at all’, but he knew Nick was never going to let it go. He led the way to the deck, grabbing hold of the wooden railing in a tight grip as he stared unseeingly into the woods. “So what do you want me to say?”
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 looked at Monroe’s tense posture, wishing he could let it go. But he’d had a difficult time of thinking about anything else all day and had come to the conclusion that Monroe was determined to do his best to avoid everything that had happened two years ago. If that happened, Nick knew he’d never be able to convince Monroe to stay. “How about we start from the beginning?” He suggested, leaning back against the railing, falling back on an old routine he and Hank used to use for particularly difficult cases. “We were pretty much going on nonstop trying to find the serial arsonist who’d been burning down buildings for the past few weeks. You stopped by the station a little after the Lieutenant created the task force, because you’d gotten a tip that he was after Wesen, right?”
Monroe frowned, and Nick could tell that he was pushing himself back to that night despite everything inside him telling him to just leave it alone. “A buddy of mine in my wieder support group mentioned something about a friend of his whose house had burned down, and it caught my interest. So Ro – ” He took a deep breath and cleared his voice. “Rosalee and I had asked around and worked out that the arsonist was more than likely a Drang-Zorn with an axe to grind. We couldn’t figure out where his anger was aimed, but that’s when I came to the station.”
“And that’s when Renard hired you as a consultant and added you to the task force.”
“Pressed me into service is more like it,” Monroe snorted.
Nick grinned, remembering Monroe’s attempts to get out of it, citing his upcoming clock making deadlines as he’d literally backed out of the office.
But of course Monroe hadn’t been a match for Renard, who’d wrapped words like ‘duty’ and ‘responsibility’ around Monroe until he’d been too bound by obligation to go anywhere. In less than ten minutes, a very unhappy Monroe had been seated in a chair beside other detectives and cops listening to Nick and Hank give a progress report.
“When did you find out about your parents?”
Monroe took a large sigh, the warm air from his lungs turning white as it hit the cold air. “It was while we were at one of the crime scenes. They hadn’t been able to get in touch with me, because my phone had died.”
Nick pushed off the railing. “I remember that day.” The night before, they hadn’t left the crime scene until about four in the morning, and Nick had convinced Monroe to just ride with him and use Nick’s guest bedroom instead of returning to the station to pick up his own car and then have to drive back home. Monroe had used the last bar of power on his phone to text Rosalee about his plans for the night. The next day, Rosalee had dropped by the station with bags of healthy and surprisingly tasty snacks for everyone – and a charger for Monroe in particular. She’d taken Monroe aside at one point, and a little jealous, Nick had tried to recall the last time he’d seen Juliette anywhere other than asleep in their bed when he’d crawl in beside her for a few hours before a quick shower before heading back into the office.
“I made Rosalee promise to keep it from everyone. We had enough going on as it was, and no one could bring my parents back.”
“I knew something was up,” Nick confessed. And he had. When he’d returned from walking Rosalee back to her car, Monroe’d had this pinched look in his eyes, but they’d gotten another call about a fire, and Nick had pushed it out of his mind. “I just got all caught up in the case and left you to handle it alone.”
“I’m a grown man,” Monroe said, his voice quiet. “I made the decision to keep it to myself.”
Nick wanted to delve into that further, but he reminded himself to focus. “And then you caught his trail.”
“I recognized his scent,” Monroe corrected. “I’d caught it at previous… crime scenes, underneath the smoke and ash, but that was the first time I’d smelled it fresh.”
Nick paused, taking a sip of his wine. He didn’t really want to go any further, but Monroe needed this. He needed this. And they weren’t going to be able to move forward if they couldn’t get it out in the open. He figured the best way to handle it would be to pull it off quickly like a Band-Aid. “And it was at my house.” Once again, Monroe had followed Nick back to Nick’s place for a couple of quick showers and a change of clothes. This time they’d escaped in the middle of the day after poking through the last crime scene, and that’s when Monroe caught a familiar scent.
Swallowing, Monroe nodded.
“So we figured the Drang-Zorn had targeted me.” Monroe winced, and Nick knew he was blaming himself. He found himself leaning closer to catch Monroe’s gaze. “It made perfect sense to all of us. Get to the Grimm by burning down his territory, building by building.”
It’d been embarrassingly easy to connect the dots after they’d made that connection – Nick had been to each place, sometimes officially but mostly in his role as a Grimm. What they hadn’t realized until too late was that he hadn’t been the only one with those same connections.
“I’m the one who came up with the fantastic idea of having Rosalee and Juliette grab some stuff at the spice shop before heading to the weider meeting house for their safety,” Monroe said harshly, his voice tinged with hint of tears. “I’m the one who convinced you that he’d never find them there.”
“I’m the one who got Trubel to go with them,” Nick reminded Monroe.
“Don’t tell me you don’t feel guilty for that!”
“I do feel guilty,” Nick said, “but I also know that it wasn’t my fault. It was Dante Forn’s.” He remembered Monroe’s focus as he scented out the Drang-Zorn, taking Monroe, Hank, and Nick to the middle of nowhere, one of the places Nick and Monroe liked to train. They’d stopped by the trailer first for weapons, each of them knowing that odds were they were going to need them.
They’d almost stumbled on him literally, as he hid in the hole he’d dug along the side of the small clearing. He’d emerged, fully woged, black hair covering most of his face, two sets of fangs on either side of his mouth. He glared at them with red-tinged irises.
Nick had tried to engage with him, hoping that he’d get the Drang-Zorn to turn himself in, all the while knowing that Hank and Monroe – and even he himself, really – didn’t believe it was going to end well. But he was a cop, and the kind of Grimm he’d decided he was going to be meant that he had to give it a try.
The Drang-Zorn had given them his version of a grin, claws raised. “Eye for an eye. This is for my brother,” he said cryptically before launching himself at Monroe. Automatically, Nick had stepped in front of his best friend and gotten off three shots. Of course that hadn’t really hurt the Wesen, but it had given them a few necessary seconds, and in within minutes, he laid on the ground, gasping his last breaths.
Nick stood there, panting, watching the Drang-Zorn glaring at Monroe, and something inside clicked. It didn’t completely firm in Nick’s mind until the Drang-Zorn muttered, “You’re already too late,” before he rattled his last breath.
Nick looked up at Monroe, saw the horror he must’ve had on his own face, before he, Monroe, and Hank ran for the car.
They’d been too late, having to pull behind the fire trucks blocking the street. The uniforms had managed to block Nick and Hank before they could get too far, but Monroe had continued forward, three policemen and two firemen hanging off his arms and shoulders, their feet dragging along the ground as he pushed forward. Nick had broken free and run in front of Monroe, so close to the fire that he could feel the heat licking at his back. He’d pressed his hands against Monroe’s chest and shouted Monroe’s name to get his attention. “You can’t go in there!”
“They’re in there!” Monroe yelled. “All three of them! I can get them out!”
Nick knew what Monroe wasn’t saying, but he also knew that Monroe’s being a Blutbad couldn’t help them now. They were too late. “You aren’t fireproof, Monroe! You have to stop!” Hank joined him, and between the two of them, the policemen, and the firemen, they managed to force Monroe away from the burning meeting house.
Nick’s mind had decided that between those three capable women, they’d somehow sensed that they were in danger and were waiting somewhere in the throng pressed against the police tape. He remembered looking through the crowd, trying to find their familiar faces. It wasn’t until much later, when the three body bags emerged from the still-smoldering building, that Nick’s heart had broken. His mind still wouldn’t believe it, and he’d forced the paramedics to stop and let him unzip all three bags, revealing the burnt faces he’d unreasonably hoped not to see.
“Nick?” Monroe had whispered brokenly from the fire truck where Hank had handcuffed him and Wu stood, practically pressed against the Blutbad to keep him there.
Nick felt a ball of anger and hurt and frustration and fatigue gather in his chest, where it started to grow, clogging his throat and making his head ache. At moment, he’d just wanted to scream, to rage and destroy.
“Nick!” Monroe shouted, grabbing his attention.
And suddenly all of that fatigue, the bottled emotion, his anger at himself, at the world, at the Drang-Zorn melded together into a bullet that Nick aimed straight at Monroe. Within the blink of an eye he was at the fire truck, shoving Wu aside and gathering Monroe’s shirt in his fists. “Why did you send them here? This is all your fault!” He’d continued to scream as Hank and Wu pried his fingers from the flannel, and Hank pretty much picked him up and carried him back to the car.
Less than five minutes later, Nick was a sobbing mess, soaking Hank’s shirt.
Good partner and friend that he was, Hank never spoke of it.
Nick had gotten himself under control, his earlier words coming back to him, and he’d immediately run back toward the fire truck, only to find a mangled set of handcuffs on the ground. He’d headed to Monroe’s house, only to find it also smoldering, the exhausted fire chief’s estimation putting the fire’s starting there the same time it had begun at the meeting house. Turned out, Dante Forn had done his best to make sure Monroe had paid for his past transgression.
A noise brought Nick back to the present, and he realized he was staring at Monroe’s hands, now clenched around the wood so tightly that he worried Monroe would break something. He looked up and found that Monroe’s whole body was shaking as he tried to hold himself together. And suddenly Nick realized that while he’d had Hank to help him mourn, Monroe hadn’t had anyone. And it looked like Monroe had just shoved down the pain from the very beginning and had kept it there.
Nick gently pried Monroe’s fingers loose, holding them in his own as he pulled Monroe to him.
“I can’t – it’s my fa –” Monroe started, wet eyes lifted into the air as he tried to maintain his composure.
Nick dropped Monroe’s hands and took a small step, wrapping his arms around his best friend.
Monroe’s entire body was shaking so hard that Nick felt his teeth rattle. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered, hanging on as Monroe tried to pull away. “It’s not your fault,” he kept repeating through Monroe’s gasps until he felt Monroe’s arms wrap around him. With a small groan, Monroe finally gave in, this time his body shaking with sobs.
Nick just held on, whispering, finally giving Monroe time to mourn.
Entry with links to each chapter
Chapter 13
Monroe absently tore off the sheet of paper and folded it before putting it in his front pocket, trying to figure out what he’d done to make Nick so angry. Maybe Nick’d had enough of all of Monroe’s strange behavior. But no, Monroe thought, if that had been the case, he’d have gotten angry the night before after he’d driven them home. It had to be more than Nick’s being insulted by Monroe’s not wanting to take Nick’s credit card. Monroe picked it up, surprised to find it was also a debit card. He gently put the card back down on the counter. Was it the rent comment? Did Nick think that Monroe’s offering to pay rent was ungracious? But how could offering to help pay off the mortgage be a bad thing? Monroe sighed, wishing he had someone left he could talk to about it.
Until he could figure it out, he needed to start on his plan for the day. The first item, “Pick up car,” was going to be a little tougher now that he no longer had a ride. If he knew how to use the Internet on his phone, he could probably find the number to a cab service, but he just shoved the card into his wallet, grabbed his keys, and felt thankful that he’d bought a really comfortable pair of shoes.
He’d only been walking for about twenty minutes when a car pulled over in front of him. He stopped, wary. He didn’t recognize the vehicle; of course, the only ones he knew belonged to Nick, Hank, Barry, and now himself. He still hadn’t been able to woge, so he couldn’t let his inner wolf help him if he needed to defend himself.
The car honked, and a familiar head poked out of the driver’s side window. “Going my way, sailor?” Wu asked.
Huffing out a laugh, Monroe sped up and hopped into the passenger seat, automatically holding out his hands over the heater.
“Don’t you know hitchhiking is overrated?” Wu asked, pulling back onto the road. “And dangerous, even for men? I could throw out some statistics if you want.”
“No thank you. And I wasn’t holding out my thumb,” Monroe corrected. “As far as anyone was concerned, I was just out for a walk.” He looked up at the sky, noting that it was obviously going to start raining soon. “But I appreciate the lift.”
“No problem. Where’re we going?”
“I need to pick up my new used car,” he rattled off the address. “And then I’m heading to the public library.” He realized he wasn’t even sure which branch was closest.
Wu slid him a glance. “You that desperate for a good read?”
“We don’t have Internet access at the house yet… or a computer,” he realized, awkwardly pulling out the paper from his jeans and a pen with the car dealership logo to add buying an affordable laptop onto the list. “So I’m going to use the computers at the library.”
“What do you have to look up?”
“The only furniture we have in the house right now are our two beds and a coffee maker.”
“Ahh, your asses are demanding some respect, huh?” Wu said.
Monroe shook his head. He hadn’t really spent much time with Wu before, what with Wu’s being a cop and then his trying to stay sane after what he’d gone through with his friend. Monroe’d gathered from what he’d heard in passing from Nick and Hank that Wu was a little bit of a wiseass, but he found it a welcome relief from the confusion in his head. “Yeah. So I’m going to do some research, get an idea of how much things cost before I start looking around.”
“Need some help?”
Monroe looked at him, surprised.
Wu shrugged. “We broke the case late last night, and I’m off today.”
“Right! Nick mentioned that you’re now a detective! Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” Wu grinned. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to wear something other than that uniform. Of course, now I actually have to plan out what I wear every day, color coordinate, ‘cause you know, I gotta look sharp.”
Monroe smiled. “You sure you don’t have any plans?”
“It turns out that your body can indeed get too much sleep, and all of my non-alcoholic friends are at work. Besides, I just helped a friend redecorate her apartment, so I’m up on the current trends and prices. And,” he added with a wink, “I’m a damn good decorator if I say so myself.”
“I’m on a budget,” Monroe warned, “but Nick wants all new stuff.”
“Hank took me on a tour of your place when he was thinking of buying it, and it was right when I was finishing up with my friend, so I will admit to having a few ideas already. You have any restrictions?”
“No red,” Monroe said promptly. “And definitely no white,” he added, thinking of the mess the kids had made earlier.
“What about Nick?”
“All he said was that he wanted something comfortable.”
Wu laughed. “How about I chauffeur you around, take you to some of the places with the better deals, and we can pick up your car later?”
“That’d be great,” Monroe said. “I appreciate it.”
“I love spending other people’s money,” Wu said. “Besides, my one bedroom doesn’t give me many opportunities to decorate.”
To his surprise, Monroe found himself having a really good time. Wu kept things lighthearted and was indeed really good at not just finding bargains, but also matching furniture from different stores. Monroe still felt hesitant about making executive decisions, so before purchasing anything, he texted pictures of his choices to Nick (after a quick phone tutorial from Wu) for final approval. He’d been a little nervous as he waited for Nick’s first response, but the, “Is it going to coordinate well with our Pergo floors?” told him that whatever he’d done earlier was forgiven – or at least forgotten for the moment. After that, Nick always texted back promptly, usually with responses that explained his definite opinion: “Yes!”, “Ugh.”, “?!?!?”, “What IS that?”, “I love that sofa; buy one for every room in the house.”, “It looks like it’ll eat me alive.”, “Are we going with a putrescence color theme?” His only specific request was that Monroe made sure to buy them both dressers for their rooms because, “Diggn thru boxes sux.”
Almost every store had an employee who remembered Wu, who somehow made sure that every piece of furniture would be delivered the next day while Monroe was stuck at home waiting for the cable and internet installer.
By his closest estimation, they’d pretty much taken care of furnishing the living room, the two master bedrooms, and patio before they finally took a break. Realizing they were close to the diner he and Nick had eaten at a few days earlier, Monroe offered to treat Wu to a late lunch.
Brenda, the waitress from his last visit, walked up to the table, grin on her face. “If it’s not the mysterious cook from the other day!” She handed them the menus.
Monroe smiled back, feeling his face grow red as he introduced Wu, who of course had to ask about her comment. And of course she happily described Monroe’s last visit.
“Aren’t you the hero!” Wu teased, settling back in the booth as Brenda went to get their drink orders.
Monroe rolled his eyes and tried not to look embarrassed. “She embellished a lot,” he muttered.
“I don’t know, that Apples and Onions does sound pretty tasty.”
“It’s not printed on the menu, but we serve it now,” Tony walked up, the hair around his face curling damply. He held out his hand to Monroe. “You have no idea how much you helped me.”
“So things are going better?” Monroe asked, automatically shaking the young Siegbarste’s hand as he attempted to move the focus off him – and to keep his mind off of the potential health issues with Tony’s loose hair.
“Yeah, I mean it still gets pretty overwhelming, but I’m doing a lot better. Ask Brenda.” He beamed as she returned with the drinks.
“Even his daddy’s been impressed,” Brenda said, sending a little side smile to Tony.
“Wow, okay,” Monroe said, realizing that Tony’s father hadn’t been the only one impressed. He looked over at Wu, who gave him a little smirk.
“I’ll have the Apples and Onions then,” Wu said, handing his unopened menu back to Brenda.
“I make a pretty good steak too, as long as you either like it rare or well done,” Tony said to Monroe.
“He’s a vegetarian,” Wu answered before Monroe could open his mouth. After a brief pause, Wu looked at Monroe. “You’re still a vegetarian, right?”
Monroe nodded, not sure what surprised him more, the thought that Wu knew he was a vegetarian or the fact that he remembered.
“We have some salads,” Tony said uncertainly, and Monroe pictured iceberg lettuce and a few tomatoes. “Do vegetarians eat tuna fish?”
“Apples and Onions is fine,” Monroe said, choosing to ignore Wu’s snort.
Eventually Tony and Brenda had to return to work, and Monroe breathed a silent sigh of relief, finally relaxing back in his side of the booth. He hadn’t realized how stressful it had been to spend the entire day surrounded by people. He’d never really been one to thrive on attention anyway, but all of the time he’d spent in his self-imposed exile and subsequent imprisonment seemed to have only magnified his need to be alone.
“How long do you think they’ve been together?” Wu asked, tilting his head toward the two.
“They weren’t looking at each other like that the last time I was here,” Monroe admitted.
“Monroe the love doctor,” Wu teased.
It was a good thing they weren’t on a strict schedule, because while he might have made progress in the kitchen, Tony still needed to work on his speed. Eventually they got their food, but Monroe found that he was enjoying Wu’s presence so much that he wasn’t in any rush.
“This was really good,” Wu said, surprised as he placed his fork on the empty plate in front of him.
“Why did you order it if you didn’t think you’d like it?” Monroe asked.
Wu shrugged a shoulder. “I figured it would be harder to give me food poisoning.” He grinned. “So, what’s next?”
Monroe pulled out his paper, which by this time looked a little worse for wear, and smoothed it out on the table. “I need to get a laptop and pick up my car, and that’s it for the day.” While he didn’t order any himself, Monroe encouraged Wu to have dessert while they discussed computer options. Wu finally convinced Monroe to purchase a laptop that seemed way too powerful for his needs, but Wu pointed out that it could help Nick work from home too, and Monroe readily capitulated. Wu had Monroe agreeing to ride with him to the Apple store in Pioneer Place before Wu dropped Monroe off at the car dealership.
After a relatively painful computer purchase that took a sizable chunk out of his bank account – with an additional printer that was going to be pretty close to free after the rebate – Wu dropped Monroe off at the dealership, waving off Monroe’s thanks.
Luckily, driving a car proved the old adage about riding a bike true, and this time Monroe had no problems driving to the house in his new car.
Nick hadn’t arrived yet, so Monroe set up the computer and printer in a temporary spot on the kitchen island – creating a new furniture list with a computer desk and chair at the top - and started dinner. He wasn’t sure what time Nick was going to be home, but for some reason, he felt hesitant to call. And suddenly, his earlier confrontation with Nick was forefront in his mind.
Adjusting his breathing, Monroe concentrated on making dinner. This is what he loved about cooking, how the rinsing and cutting and mixing calmed him down, let him empty his mind of exhausting thoughts for a while. It had always been a brief respite from the chaos in his life.
“I’m home,” Nick called, slamming the door shut.
“I hope you haven’t eaten,” Monroe said, suddenly feeling a bit tentative. “I guess I should’ve called –”
“No, I haven’t eaten,” Nick said, smiling a slow smile that made Monroe’s stomach flutter just a little bit. He’d always liked that smile. “I did bring wine, though.” He waved a bottle in the air. “Hopefully it’ll go with whatever you’re cooking.” He also produced a twelve pack of beer, which he put in the fridge.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Monroe said, smiling as he pulled out the corkscrew. “Why don’t you open it up?” He pointed to a cabinet. “The glasses are in there.”
They worked for a couple of minutes in companionable silence, Monroe happy to be in Nick’s presence.
After he’d poured the wine, Nick leaned against the island, watching Monroe work. Eventually, he said, “I want to apologize for earlier.”
Even though he knew it was something they needed to talk about, Monroe felt himself tensing. “Yeah, about that,” he said, thankful he was facing the sink. “I was wondering what I did, or said, to piss you off.” The silence made him turn around to find Nick staring intently at his wine. Without thought, he walked over and nudged Nick’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“I know that we agreed that you’d leave here once you were all healed, but I’d been hoping that you’d change your mind and stay. Maybe it’s selfish, because I’ve missed having you here, but I thought that if you became invested in the house, you’d be less likely to leave. But you refuse to have any real attachment. It’s like you already have one foot out the door. Then you offered to pay rent, like you could just leave without looking back, and I guess I just snapped.” He handed Monroe a filled glass.
Monroe sighed. “I hadn’t really thought of it in terms like that, but I guess you’re right.” He took a sip while he collected his thoughts. “These last few years, I’ve made sure that I didn’t belong anywhere, because losing everything that night almost broke me. I don’t – I’m not sure –” He rolled his damp eyes and huffed an embarrassed laugh.
“You didn’t lose everything,” Nick said, pressing against Monroe as he pulled him in a one-armed hug. “I know I didn’t make it seem like it that night, but you have me. I’m here. And I promise I won’t let you down like that again.”
“You were hurting –”
“And you weren’t?” Nick shot back, pulling away and leaving Monroe feeling absurdly bereft. “You’d lost your home, Rosalee, Troubel, and Juliette – ”
“Troubel and Juliette –”
“ – were important to you too,” Nick insisted. “And then later, when I went looking for you to apologize, I found out about your parents.”
Monroe closed his eyes. He really, really didn’t want to have this conversation, but Nick seemed determined to clear the air, no matter how painful. A hand curved gently around Monroe’s cheek, and he opened his eyes to stare into Nick’s somber, beautiful gaze.
“I understand why you didn’t tell me. We were in the middle of searching for that arsonist, and things were crazy.”
Pushing away from the counter and Nick, Monroe headed into the kitchen, turning off the heat on the stovetop. “Do we have to get into this now?” He hated the pleading sound to his voice, but he really didn’t want to break down in front of Nick. He’d shoved everything down so far that bringing it back up was like pulling off a scab.
Nick followed behind him so closely that Monroe could feel the warmth in his back. “Why not now? Do you have some sort of emergency meeting you have to get to?” He darted in front of Monroe, pressing his hand against Monroe’s chest. It felt like blow even though it didn’t contain any of the strength the Grimm could’ve used. “Talk to me!”
“What do you want me to say?” Monroe shouted plaintively. He didn’t want to relive any of it ever again.
“I know it’s painful. I lost people I love too! But this...thing... is just going to be here between the two of us until we hash it out.”
“Fine,” Monroe ground out. Suddenly the room felt way too small. “I can’t do this in here.” He wanted to say, ‘I can’t do this at all’, but he knew Nick was never going to let it go. He led the way to the deck, grabbing hold of the wooden railing in a tight grip as he stared unseeingly into the woods. “So what do you want me to say?”
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 looked at Monroe’s tense posture, wishing he could let it go. But he’d had a difficult time of thinking about anything else all day and had come to the conclusion that Monroe was determined to do his best to avoid everything that had happened two years ago. If that happened, Nick knew he’d never be able to convince Monroe to stay. “How about we start from the beginning?” He suggested, leaning back against the railing, falling back on an old routine he and Hank used to use for particularly difficult cases. “We were pretty much going on nonstop trying to find the serial arsonist who’d been burning down buildings for the past few weeks. You stopped by the station a little after the Lieutenant created the task force, because you’d gotten a tip that he was after Wesen, right?”
Monroe frowned, and Nick could tell that he was pushing himself back to that night despite everything inside him telling him to just leave it alone. “A buddy of mine in my wieder support group mentioned something about a friend of his whose house had burned down, and it caught my interest. So Ro – ” He took a deep breath and cleared his voice. “Rosalee and I had asked around and worked out that the arsonist was more than likely a Drang-Zorn with an axe to grind. We couldn’t figure out where his anger was aimed, but that’s when I came to the station.”
“And that’s when Renard hired you as a consultant and added you to the task force.”
“Pressed me into service is more like it,” Monroe snorted.
Nick grinned, remembering Monroe’s attempts to get out of it, citing his upcoming clock making deadlines as he’d literally backed out of the office.
But of course Monroe hadn’t been a match for Renard, who’d wrapped words like ‘duty’ and ‘responsibility’ around Monroe until he’d been too bound by obligation to go anywhere. In less than ten minutes, a very unhappy Monroe had been seated in a chair beside other detectives and cops listening to Nick and Hank give a progress report.
“When did you find out about your parents?”
Monroe took a large sigh, the warm air from his lungs turning white as it hit the cold air. “It was while we were at one of the crime scenes. They hadn’t been able to get in touch with me, because my phone had died.”
Nick pushed off the railing. “I remember that day.” The night before, they hadn’t left the crime scene until about four in the morning, and Nick had convinced Monroe to just ride with him and use Nick’s guest bedroom instead of returning to the station to pick up his own car and then have to drive back home. Monroe had used the last bar of power on his phone to text Rosalee about his plans for the night. The next day, Rosalee had dropped by the station with bags of healthy and surprisingly tasty snacks for everyone – and a charger for Monroe in particular. She’d taken Monroe aside at one point, and a little jealous, Nick had tried to recall the last time he’d seen Juliette anywhere other than asleep in their bed when he’d crawl in beside her for a few hours before a quick shower before heading back into the office.
“I made Rosalee promise to keep it from everyone. We had enough going on as it was, and no one could bring my parents back.”
“I knew something was up,” Nick confessed. And he had. When he’d returned from walking Rosalee back to her car, Monroe’d had this pinched look in his eyes, but they’d gotten another call about a fire, and Nick had pushed it out of his mind. “I just got all caught up in the case and left you to handle it alone.”
“I’m a grown man,” Monroe said, his voice quiet. “I made the decision to keep it to myself.”
Nick wanted to delve into that further, but he reminded himself to focus. “And then you caught his trail.”
“I recognized his scent,” Monroe corrected. “I’d caught it at previous… crime scenes, underneath the smoke and ash, but that was the first time I’d smelled it fresh.”
Nick paused, taking a sip of his wine. He didn’t really want to go any further, but Monroe needed this. He needed this. And they weren’t going to be able to move forward if they couldn’t get it out in the open. He figured the best way to handle it would be to pull it off quickly like a Band-Aid. “And it was at my house.” Once again, Monroe had followed Nick back to Nick’s place for a couple of quick showers and a change of clothes. This time they’d escaped in the middle of the day after poking through the last crime scene, and that’s when Monroe caught a familiar scent.
Swallowing, Monroe nodded.
“So we figured the Drang-Zorn had targeted me.” Monroe winced, and Nick knew he was blaming himself. He found himself leaning closer to catch Monroe’s gaze. “It made perfect sense to all of us. Get to the Grimm by burning down his territory, building by building.”
It’d been embarrassingly easy to connect the dots after they’d made that connection – Nick had been to each place, sometimes officially but mostly in his role as a Grimm. What they hadn’t realized until too late was that he hadn’t been the only one with those same connections.
“I’m the one who came up with the fantastic idea of having Rosalee and Juliette grab some stuff at the spice shop before heading to the weider meeting house for their safety,” Monroe said harshly, his voice tinged with hint of tears. “I’m the one who convinced you that he’d never find them there.”
“I’m the one who got Trubel to go with them,” Nick reminded Monroe.
“Don’t tell me you don’t feel guilty for that!”
“I do feel guilty,” Nick said, “but I also know that it wasn’t my fault. It was Dante Forn’s.” He remembered Monroe’s focus as he scented out the Drang-Zorn, taking Monroe, Hank, and Nick to the middle of nowhere, one of the places Nick and Monroe liked to train. They’d stopped by the trailer first for weapons, each of them knowing that odds were they were going to need them.
They’d almost stumbled on him literally, as he hid in the hole he’d dug along the side of the small clearing. He’d emerged, fully woged, black hair covering most of his face, two sets of fangs on either side of his mouth. He glared at them with red-tinged irises.
Nick had tried to engage with him, hoping that he’d get the Drang-Zorn to turn himself in, all the while knowing that Hank and Monroe – and even he himself, really – didn’t believe it was going to end well. But he was a cop, and the kind of Grimm he’d decided he was going to be meant that he had to give it a try.
The Drang-Zorn had given them his version of a grin, claws raised. “Eye for an eye. This is for my brother,” he said cryptically before launching himself at Monroe. Automatically, Nick had stepped in front of his best friend and gotten off three shots. Of course that hadn’t really hurt the Wesen, but it had given them a few necessary seconds, and in within minutes, he laid on the ground, gasping his last breaths.
Nick stood there, panting, watching the Drang-Zorn glaring at Monroe, and something inside clicked. It didn’t completely firm in Nick’s mind until the Drang-Zorn muttered, “You’re already too late,” before he rattled his last breath.
Nick looked up at Monroe, saw the horror he must’ve had on his own face, before he, Monroe, and Hank ran for the car.
They’d been too late, having to pull behind the fire trucks blocking the street. The uniforms had managed to block Nick and Hank before they could get too far, but Monroe had continued forward, three policemen and two firemen hanging off his arms and shoulders, their feet dragging along the ground as he pushed forward. Nick had broken free and run in front of Monroe, so close to the fire that he could feel the heat licking at his back. He’d pressed his hands against Monroe’s chest and shouted Monroe’s name to get his attention. “You can’t go in there!”
“They’re in there!” Monroe yelled. “All three of them! I can get them out!”
Nick knew what Monroe wasn’t saying, but he also knew that Monroe’s being a Blutbad couldn’t help them now. They were too late. “You aren’t fireproof, Monroe! You have to stop!” Hank joined him, and between the two of them, the policemen, and the firemen, they managed to force Monroe away from the burning meeting house.
Nick’s mind had decided that between those three capable women, they’d somehow sensed that they were in danger and were waiting somewhere in the throng pressed against the police tape. He remembered looking through the crowd, trying to find their familiar faces. It wasn’t until much later, when the three body bags emerged from the still-smoldering building, that Nick’s heart had broken. His mind still wouldn’t believe it, and he’d forced the paramedics to stop and let him unzip all three bags, revealing the burnt faces he’d unreasonably hoped not to see.
“Nick?” Monroe had whispered brokenly from the fire truck where Hank had handcuffed him and Wu stood, practically pressed against the Blutbad to keep him there.
Nick felt a ball of anger and hurt and frustration and fatigue gather in his chest, where it started to grow, clogging his throat and making his head ache. At moment, he’d just wanted to scream, to rage and destroy.
“Nick!” Monroe shouted, grabbing his attention.
And suddenly all of that fatigue, the bottled emotion, his anger at himself, at the world, at the Drang-Zorn melded together into a bullet that Nick aimed straight at Monroe. Within the blink of an eye he was at the fire truck, shoving Wu aside and gathering Monroe’s shirt in his fists. “Why did you send them here? This is all your fault!” He’d continued to scream as Hank and Wu pried his fingers from the flannel, and Hank pretty much picked him up and carried him back to the car.
Less than five minutes later, Nick was a sobbing mess, soaking Hank’s shirt.
Good partner and friend that he was, Hank never spoke of it.
Nick had gotten himself under control, his earlier words coming back to him, and he’d immediately run back toward the fire truck, only to find a mangled set of handcuffs on the ground. He’d headed to Monroe’s house, only to find it also smoldering, the exhausted fire chief’s estimation putting the fire’s starting there the same time it had begun at the meeting house. Turned out, Dante Forn had done his best to make sure Monroe had paid for his past transgression.
A noise brought Nick back to the present, and he realized he was staring at Monroe’s hands, now clenched around the wood so tightly that he worried Monroe would break something. He looked up and found that Monroe’s whole body was shaking as he tried to hold himself together. And suddenly Nick realized that while he’d had Hank to help him mourn, Monroe hadn’t had anyone. And it looked like Monroe had just shoved down the pain from the very beginning and had kept it there.
Nick gently pried Monroe’s fingers loose, holding them in his own as he pulled Monroe to him.
“I can’t – it’s my fa –” Monroe started, wet eyes lifted into the air as he tried to maintain his composure.
Nick dropped Monroe’s hands and took a small step, wrapping his arms around his best friend.
Monroe’s entire body was shaking so hard that Nick felt his teeth rattle. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered, hanging on as Monroe tried to pull away. “It’s not your fault,” he kept repeating through Monroe’s gasps until he felt Monroe’s arms wrap around him. With a small groan, Monroe finally gave in, this time his body shaking with sobs.
Nick just held on, whispering, finally giving Monroe time to mourn.
Entry with links to each chapter
