Chapter Summary: Monroe is home alone reminiscing about the past when Nick shows up. It seems like a relatively normal evening for them, until Monroe gets a phone call.
Disclaimer: Grimm and all its characters do not belong to me; they belong to the show creators and to NBC.
A/N: This fic is slightly canon divergent. Everything that happened up until Krampus has happened and I left a gap in space to accommodate for the rest of season 3, but of course this is being written without me knowing what happens yet. This is a slow build Nick/Monroe fic, with potential sexy bits later on, but for now the rating is for any language and/or gore that may make its way into the story. There are a couple of OC's in here so that I can practice my character development and to help the plot along, but the story will be focused around Nick and Monroe. However, I am always open to criticism and ideas. I want to improve, and I can't do that without feedback, whether good or bad. Please no flaming though, I don't care if you don't like it, but if you want to tell me it sucks, and then tell me why please. Also no beta, all mistakes are my own.
Eddie Monroe sat at his work station, staring blankly at the broken watch he had placed in front of him. He wasn't trying to fix this particular watch; he did already know what was wrong with it. It sat on his work desk as a constant reminder of that moment five months, twenty two days, four hours, and thirteen minutes ago. The watch belonged to him and he was the one who broke it that day. It had been a gift from Rosalee, so it was sadistically poetic that its time stopped when hers had.
He sighed and set the watch back in the corner of the desk, next to the ring box he had sitting there as well. He knew he shouldn't keep either of them; they were reminders of days that would never and the question that he never got to ask, but he couldn't, not with her killers still out there. His eyes were glassy with tears and his throat closed up at the memory of that horrible night and the months that followed. He and Nick had tried to track the Reapers that killed her, but they had vanished. The two of them spent a few months searching, but Nick had his job, both as a cop and as a Grimm, and the memory was going to drive Monroe insane if he didn't start getting back to some sort of normal routine of work and Pilates. They both had still spent their spare time trying to find any leads, but then Juliette left and their searching all but stopped. Nick was devastated and Monroe couldn't ask him to keep looking with him, not after that and when there wasn't any hope of finding anything. So now he played a fragile waiting game, trying not to forget the rage, but not allowing it to consume him.
They were in the quiet before the next storm, the Reapers would be back eventually, and especially if Nick kept doing what e does best. Monroe just had to make it through until then. Maybe after that he would be able to let Rosalee's memory rest. He could move on then, but not before, he owed her that much. He loved her and he would avenge her death, and Nick would be there by his side when he did, the Grimm had assured him of that. Rosalee had saved Nick's life many times and had become one of his closest friends as well.
Monroe's ears perked as he heard a car pull into his driveway. It was Nick's, but not his patrol car and he was alone, so it wasn't case related. Monroe removed his glasses and wiped the moisture from his eyes before pushing himself away from his work. He was already halfway to the door before Nick ever knocked. Monroe opened it to reveal Nick holding a six pack of Deschutes Inversion IPA, which was one of their shared favorites. Nick brought the beer to his chest level to show it off to Monroe with a sheepish grin that didn't really reach his sad eyes. Monroe flashed a small, grateful, smile back and gestured for the Grimm to come inside. Nick had started coming over more often after Juliette left; Monroe didn't blame him, not after how long the two of them had lived together and all the reminders that house must hold. Nick had taken to using Monroe's guest bedroom more than a few nights a week when the loneliness got to be too much. Honestly, Monroe was grateful when he did; Nick was a distraction and a comfort. They would sit and chat about whatever case Nick was currently on, or which wesen he had encountered recently, or even just Monroe's clocks, or random events that occurred that day. Even though neither of them brought up Rosalee or Juliette, they helped each other cope and begin returning to normal, or as close to normal as they could while knowing that Rosalee's killers still roamed free and tat her death was the turning point that led to Juliette eventually leaving Portland.
"You alright, Monroe?" Nick asked, as they made their way to the kitchen, his detective eyes noticing that the watch had moved again.
"Not really," Monroe admitted, knowing Nick would catch a lie, "It's been one of those days. I will be okay in a moment, you being here helps."
Nick smiled at him fondly, "I understand, being here helps me too." This time the smile did seem to reach his eyes and it was enough to make Monroe's day a little better. The beers were already chilled so Nick removed one for each of them and put the rest in Monroe's fridge.
Monroe had already grabbed the bottle opener and popped both of their caps off as they leaned against the kitchen counter, enjoying the comfortable silence of the other's company. Eventually Nick sighed, breaking the silence. "Monroe…" the Blutbad knew that tone.
"What happened? Whose hurt? Is it Hank?" Monroe's mind was always going to the worst case scenario first these days.
"No, no one's hurt," Nick assured him. "I…I mean….," he took a breath and continued. "The captain found this on his car's windshield when he was leaving the precinct today." He handed a small white envelope over for Monroe to examine.
Monroe's hands were shaking as he opened the flap and pulled a white piece of paper from the envelope. Initially he thought it was blank, but his blood ran cold as he flipped it over, revealing a solitary scythe drawn on with red ink. "Holy shit…" He breathed out shakily. "Do you think it's the same Reapers? Why are they sending this to Renard? Do you think they'll go after him next?"
"I have no idea," Nick ran his hand through his hair, "but things are obviously going to start heating up again." He lifted his head to look Monroe in the eye. "I don't care if these are the Reapers that took Rosalee from us. We will get them eventually because I've already decided that I'm going to take out every last god damn Reaper there is."
Monroe looked at Nick incredulously. It was that he didn't believe him, he did, but it was crazy. "Nick that's insane," Monroe hissed. "There are too many and they are too strong." You'll end up getting killed." Monroe couldn't lose Nick too, the man was all he had left, which was kind of sad, but Monroe had been a bit of a recluse before the Grimm entered his life.
"I don't care," Nick retorted, "They need to be taken out, this type of fear and oppression can't be allowed to contin-"
"Well I care!" Monroe yelled, interrupting whatever Nick was going to say next. Nick looked at him shocked. "I'm all for the idea of getting rid of every last Reaper, but I can't lose you too, man."
"I understand, but I need to do this. I'm a Grimm, I have to at least try," Nick argued.
Monroe sighed, knowing that Nick's mind was made up, "At least don't try to do this all on your own. Let me help and we need to come up with a plan before we go after them."
"What? No, you're not coming," Nick informed him, "It's far too dangerous."
"That was the point I just made, Nick," Monroe chastised and interrupted again when Nick opened his mouth to say something else. "Yes I know you're the Grimm, but I'm best friends with one, so whatever you get yourself into, I'm going to be there too. These people killed Rosalee, Nick; I'm not letting them get you too, not while I'm still breathing."
Nick chuckled, and it sounded horribly broken, "We both just have a death with don't we?"
Monroe's eyes softened, "Maybe, but at least we are both hell bent on keeping the other alive, that should help a little in keeping us both around a bit longer."
"Alright, I'll keep you posted. Renard is looking into where this came from," Nick held up the envelope before pocketing it again. "He is going to let me know if any of his informants find anything." Monroe nodded and they both went back to sipping their beers, the quiet slightly more tense this time around.
Nick opened his mouth to break some of the tension when he was interrupted by Monroe's cell ringing. He looked at it confused; it was an unknown number "Hello?"
"Uncle Eddie?" Nick could hear what sounded like a young woman on the other end, she was breathing heavily.
"Pup? Why are you calling me? Is everything alright? You know your mother would kill both of us if she knew you were calling."
"I need help, I…I'm in Portland…I think, but I don't know where. Something is after me, it…" the phone cut out and Monroe looked up at Nick, panic obvious in his eyes.