Monroe's Beetle pulled up on the opposite side of the road just as Nick was stepping out of his car. Shit. Monroe was the last person he needed to see right now. He was going to keep telling himself that until he believed it.

"Dude, you need to answer your phone."

The blutbad wasn't wasting any time, gesticulating at him in his unmistakably Monroe-esque manner. Nick should have known Monroe would come to save him from himself. Not Hank or Wu or any other member of their unlikely gang. Always Monroe.

"What are you doing here?"

Nick walked past his friend, trying to ignore him – as much as it was possible to ignore someone who was so tall and wore brightly-coloured trousers and kept talking to the back of his head with undiminished passion. Finally, the detective stopped and turned around with a sigh. Obviously, he wasn't going to get rid of Monroe so easily.

".. and I don't want to see you do something, you know, if you really need me!"

"I appreciate that", Nick did his best to keep his tone measured, even though on the inside he was boiling, "but you can't be part of this, not until I'm sure. Now get out of here."

"Nick.."

"Get out of here!", the Grimm shouted in exasperation, pointing and pushing away the guilt as the expression on his friend's face shifted from worried to shocked to hurt. No one could possibly expect him to be dealing with Monroe's feelings right now!

He made a move to walk away but the blutbad had other plans, catching him by his arm and forcing the detective to keep facing him.

"No, I'm not gonna do that, Nick!"

The determination in Monroe's voice was unexpected.

"You don't get to send me away like this, not anymore. Not after what happened between us."

That was the last straw.

"D'you really think it's a good time to bring this up?!", Nick exploded, forcefully pulling his arm out of Monroe's grasp. "My girlfriend died in my arms last night, you idiot! Her body is barely even cold yet! Not that I could tell, I don't even know where her bodyis!"

"I doubt Juliette was still considering herself your girlfriend, Nick!"

Monroe held his gaze firmly for a moment before dropping it with a shake of his head.

"I'm sorry, man. Look, it's not like I'm asking you to sleep with me again or something -"

"Shh!" Nick hissed, glancing up and down the road. Thankfully, there was no one within earshot.

"I'm just asking you to not get yourself killed in my absence. Or at all, ideally, if I can help it. As your friend."

"Friend, huh?" Nick gave an ironic chuckle, dropping his own gaze and very carefully not checking out Monroe's long legs in those weird pinkish trousers that suited him pretty well, actually.

"I mean, what are you planning to do with that FBI agent? Or is this another one of your punch first, ask questions later missions?"

"She's got Trubel!" Nick barked. "I gotta see for myself if she's wesen!"

"And if she is, then what?"

"Then I'm gonna take her somewhere safe for questioning."

"Like where?"

"I don't know, Monroe! Somewhere safe! The Spice Shop basement should do fine."

"Oh, so you're saying I am gonna be part of this. Me and Rosalee both."

Nick huffed, sticking both hands into his pockets.

"Guess I haven't thought this far."

"Hey, it's cool, man, a kidnapped FBI agent should make a nice addition to my collection of stolen passports and phones and your murder weapon from one of the other times you did such a good job not involving me in a crime -"

"Alright, alright!" Nick cut him off impatiently, "You wanna help or not!?"

"Sure", Monroe confirmed with unnecessary enthusiasm.

"Just keep your voice down, will you?"

Nick strode on with the blutbad tagging along half a step behind him.

"So, how are we getting in?"

"Through the back door."

Monroe very wisely kept the obvious 'back door' joke to himself as he followed Nick around the house.

"I guess I better look for something hard so we can smash in the glass or -"

He stopped himself when Nick got a small bundle of skeleton keys out of his pocket.

"Oh. Of course. I forget you cops have access to all the tools. Well, at least if the captain fires you for this you've got an alternative career path lined up - .. okay, okay, I'm shutting up now."

Monroe ducked under Nick's punishing stare and watched in silence as the detective picked the lock with surprising skill. They went inside.

"She should be out still."

"Well, I can tell you for sure she's not here", Monroe pointed to his nose.

"Good. Help me search the house. Anything that tells us where Trubel is. Or that Chavez is wesen."

"For example? It's not like we're hanging wesen certificates on our walls, you know?"

"Just start looking."

Nick pulled out a drawer and sounded irritated enough for Monroe not to question him further. They worked themselves through the ground floor, then the rooms upstairs. When Monroe finished the study and came into Chavez's master bedroom Nick was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, looking a little less angry and a little more lost.

The clockmaker let himself sink down onto the bed next to him, keeping a respectful distance.

"Well, I got nothing."

"No, me neither", Nick admitted, sounding disheartened - or maybe just really, really tired.

"So, what are we doing now?" Monroe gave his own voice a pointedly upbeat tone, hoping to stop his friend from drifting into lethargy.

"Waiting for her to come back. Her shift's finishing in ten."

"Okay."

Monroe stretched out his legs and occupied himself with a detailed examination of his boots - which Nick interrupted only moments later.

"Your should go home. I'm sure Rosalee needs you."

"Well.. you need me more."

"Okay. Up to you."

Monroe peeked over at the young man, all pale-faced and red-eyed and with his lips pressed together into a thin line. He looked like he was ready to sleep for a year, but also like he wouldn't be able to sleep even if he tried. The clockmaker scrunched up his face, hurting from just looking at his friend. Inadvertently, he inched a little closer.

"Listen, Nick.. I'm so sorry about Juliette. I mean, I'm not entirely sure what happened still, you could tell me, of course. Or not. But I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'm sure you are."

It came out more snarkily than intended, and this time Nick could not push back the guilt. It wasn't fair to take his anger out on Monroe, it wasn't Monroe's fault. None of it was.

"I mean, thank you for saying that."

"I cared for Juliette, man. Well, when she wasn't trying to make you shoot me or burning your possessions and all those shenanigans. I really did."

He paused, studying the side of Nick's face. Not that there was much to study. Right now, it was about as expressive as a stone. The clockmaker moved a little closer still.

"But if one of you had to die, Nick, I'm glad it wasn't you. Because if you'd died, I would have torn the world apart. You know that, right?"

Monroe wasn't even sure if Nick had heard him at all until the detective replied, a long couple of moments later. Finally, there was a softer edge to his voice.

"I know."

Monroe dared a tiny smile. He dared to curl a cautious arm around Nick's shoulders, and since he did not encounter any resistance he pulled gently until Nick's head was resting against him.

"Don't worry", he nestled his own cheek into the detective's hair. "We'll find Trubel. And Juliette, and.. we'll find everyone they took from you. We'll make this right. Well, maybe not right, but it will get better, you know? Everything will -"

"Monroe?"

"Hm?"

"Just be quiet for a bit."

Nick closed his eyes, feeling his friend's lips against his scalp. For a moment or two, all this noise inside his head subsided a little.