Nick stared across the park pathway at his younger self. He was about to see Monroe for the first time. He knew, he just knew, that he shouldn't even let himself see Monroe woge. But he couldn't bring himself to deny that first glimpse. Those red tinged eyes and wolfish features would probably give him unexplained nightmares for the rest of his life, but never knowing even a second of Monroe seemed worse somehow.
He watched his young blue grey eyes alight with shock, and he knew he had to move right then. He may have had enough Grimm training for what felt like three lifetimes, but he was five years older, and his reflexes were decidedly slower.
He knocked the novice Grimm backwards and pinned him to the forest floor in the park. Then he growled, an undercurrent of raw emotion seeping into his voice, "Don't you dare go near that man."
He pressed his hand to the younger Nick's mouth as he drew and pointed his crossbow. He could feel a stifled, foolish cry for help against his palm, one that was likely being directed at Hank. But he also knew he had been recognized. The younger man may not have wanted to believe what he was seeing, but he definitely saw him for what he was.
"Why not?" The younger man asked as Nick moved his hand away but left the crossbow trained. The arrow was tipped with a sedative that he really hoped he wouldn't have to use.
He sighed and leaned into a sagging oak tree. He didn't know how to explain this. The guy didn't know Monroe yet. He didn't know how important he was. How deeply involved they had become. Worse yet, none of those reasons felt like good ones for him to stay away.
He settled on the best version of the truth he could come up with, "Your knowing him will be the death of him. And he's just an innocent man in all of this."
"Didn't look too much like a man to me," His younger self said. Nick rolled his eyes. He knew he was green, but he had forgotten how blind his prejudice had been right after his aunt had told him what he was. This was before he knew Bud or Rosalee or Monroe. Of course, if his plan worked, he wouldn't know any of them.
It was, perhaps, the last thing he wanted. But he had an opportunity to change their fates even if he couldn't change his. Their fates had been his fault, ultimately. They had just been trying to protect him. He felt like he'd been King Midas, offering that he wasn't that kind of Grimm as his gold but ultimately destroying everything he touched.
"He's just a clockmaker for God's sake; he wouldn't kidnap an innocent girl," he said, Monroe's words from that night five years ago echoing in the back of his head, before he realized he was giving away too much. He shouldn't tell himself anything about Monroe. Anything. If he wanted to protect Monroe, he couldn't know him. He couldn't know him at all.
"Then who would?" The younger Nick asked.
"Take this," Nick said extending a piece of lined yellow paper torn off of a legal pad. "It's everything you're going to need to know. All the information on Wesen is written down in Aunt Marie's books, but that should be all the ones you're going to need to know about that you would have asked Mon...him about. Do your own research. Keep him out of it."
"Why would I ask him for help?" he asked, giving Nick a look that suggested he had no right to be giving him advice or directions. When Nick shrugged, he asked, "Who are you?"
"I'm you, and you know it. Now get out of here," Nick said.
"What about the little girl?" he asked.
"It's on the sheet of paper, top of the list," Nick said. "Now find Hank and get out of here."
With the crossbow still trained on him, the younger Nick, with a few backwards glances, went off in search of his partner.
As he did, with a weary sigh, Nick loosened his grip on the crossbow and stared listlessly at the forest floor. With any luck, he thought bitterly, he'd just completely erased one of the most important relationships in his entire life. And now there was nothing left for him to do but wait...wait for time to do its work and just dissolve him, taking him apart piece by piece.
He slid down the oak tree and rested against it before turning towards Monroe's house -his house, really- for one last look. He let memories of kisses tasting of coffee and wine and too late dinners blur with those of Monroe fidgeting with cogs and springs, Monroe running a bow across his cello, Monroe folding sweaters and jeans at the foot of their bed. Just of Monroe.
He closed his eyes and remembered that last night, that perfect ordinary night before it had all gone wrong. He supposed that without the events of the day following, that particular night wouldn't have measured as anything special, but as it was, it was a memory, that, if he were not trying to prevent it all, would have been a permanent, close-to-his-heart etch of what had been.
They had all been at the books at the kitchen table for hours before Hank had called it a night, for him and Nick, since they both needed to be at the precinct early. So Nick had lay awake just listening to Monroe and Rosalee chatting fervently about the jazz piece Monroe was trying to teach himself.
Then, when he finally made it upstairs, Monroe, thinking Nick was already asleep, leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. Nick caught his lips before smirking heartily as Monroe fell back in surprise, trying his best to act like he was exasperated even though Nick knew better.
Some time later, they had fallen asleep with Nick drowsily mumbling an affirmative to Monroe's enthusiastic bribes of spinach-less pancakes if he agreed to help weed the front yard that weekend.
When he opened his eyes again, he caught sight of the few withering weeds growing around the front porch, and faced anew with the reality of a hot, miserable summer afternoon that would never come, the tears that had been welling up began to fall freely.
What did it matter, anyway, he wondered; it wasn't as though there were anyone around to see him. Right?
Although he hadn't really been focusing, it had seemed that since his younger self had disappeared, aside from the scurrying of small animals around the park and the occasional car whirring down the street, there had hardly been any sound.
But now he could hear leaves crinkling under the weight of something, or more likely, he realized, someone, too large to be a squirrel. He whirled around just in time to see Monroe edging towards him cautiously.
"Hey, uh, dude, are you okay?" Monroe asked. "I was just going to come thank you for, you know, stopping your twin or whatever from whatever he was about to do; I think he had some serious misconceptions about the kind of guy I am. But, well, you seem like you're kind of in a dark place so maybe now's not the best time. But...uh...well... did you need help or something? Because I owe you."
Monroe owed him? Nick almost laughed through his tears. Then without really thinking through the consequences of doing so, he lifted the crossbow back up and aimed at Monroe's chest, "Don't come any closer!"
Monroe woged slightly in surprise, and Nick grimaced, knowing he'd been recognized for what he was. Well, he figured, at least they were still getting off slightly on the wrong foot because he would have hated to have changed that.
Instead of doing the intelligent thing and backing away, Monroe, letting curiosity get the best of him, moved closer and leaned into Nick's personal space, "Another Grimm? I'll be damned. I've heard stories about you guys all my life, but I never thought I'd see one up close, let alone two in one day. What do you know! ... hey, was that other guy really your twin? I was just spitballing..."
Nick was now completely overwhelmed with how painfully he missed Monroe. And with him trying to ramble his way through the odd situation, well, Nick could have kissed him for just being there and just being himself. And, apparently, he couldn't entirely contain the impulse. Still half sobbing, figuring his plan had already gone hopelessly askew, he let the crossbow fall to the ground as he wrapped his arms around a now thoroughly bewildered Monroe.
"You don't owe me a damn thing," Nick said. Then as he gripped Monroe, who was twisting against him anxiously, more tightly, he whispered softly, almost inaudibly, "I miss you so much...I love you."
Monroe tensed and pushed Nick back against the tree, "Uh, not to put a damper on your already damp mood or anything, but, well, I just met you. So this is kind of awkward. I mean, I don't even know your name."
"And hopefully you never will," Nick said, brushing fresh tears from his cheek, and wincing slightly as his ankle twisted into the tip of his abandoned arrow. "I just wanted you to know."
Then, as the leaves started to go a little hazy, Nick just assumed his time was up, and he was going back to whatever miserable existence, or more likely, the lack thereof, he'd just created for himself.
Therefore he was more than a little surprised, and confused, when he woke up two hours later, with a splitting headache, on Monroe's couch with his ankle propped up and bandaged.
He groaned, turning into the couch, as he rubbed at his temple. He shouldn't still be there. He couldn't still be there. He'd stopped his past self from meeting Monroe, hadn't he? So mission accomplished, game over. This was really not going according to plan.
Thinking that the more he involved himself with Monroe's past, the worse he was going to make things, he tried to get up for take two of getting out of Monroe's life and, more pressingly, his house.
Everything spun.
Then a hand was on his shoulder, pressing him back into the couch, "Yeah, you aren't getting anywhere fast. Whatever you had on this thing really did a number on you."
Monroe held the arrow up under his nose. Nick could have kicked himself; he'd completely forgotten about the sedative.
"Why couldn't you just leave me out there?" Nick asked piteously. Of course, he knew the answer only too well - Monroe was every bit as much of an idiot as he was. But he let the question stand.
"And, what, leave you for the wolves?" Monroe asked as he handed him a glass of water and pain relievers.
Nick raised his eyes as he took them.
"Okay, well, metaphorically speaking," Monroe said."Look, this neighborhood isn't quite as safe as it seems, you were not exactly conscious, and like I said, I owe you."
"Well, consider yourself owed up," Nick said. "I'll just let myself out. I know where the door is."
"Yeah...well, you did say you live here. You were kind of half awake and sort of dazedly going on about me and time travel and reapers and some woman named Rosalee," Monroe continued, gesturing wildly as he paced across the floor before falling into an armchair and giving Nick a long, expectant look. "Man, who in the hell are you?"
"Uh..." Nick sputtered. He didn't really know what to say because Monroe believing the truth seemed about as likely as Monroe believing whatever flimsy lie he came up with. When it came right down to it, he wasn't fantastic at spinning stories, and Nick trusted that Monroe could and would read him like a book on this. After all, time really hadn't helped him hone his facial expressions.
Therefore, he, somewhat reluctantly, settled on the truth.
"So let me get this straight," Monroe said, some twenty minutes later, as he methodically and thoughtfully tapped his fingers along the end table, "you could go back to one specific moment in time to change what happened?"
Nick nodded.
"And you picked the moment we met instead of the moment before I got hacked apart by a regal reaper with a vendetta and a machete?" Monroe asked. "What are you, an idiot?"
"I was just trying to protect you," Nick said, defensively. "I've let you get hurt way too many times."
"Yeah, you're definitely an idiot," Monroe said. "You do realize you're a Grimm, and I'm a Blutbad, right? We're not all that known for protecting each other."
"That has been pointed out a few times," Nick conceded.
"Okay. So if I were to believe you, which I'm not saying I do," Monroe said, looking like he'd just opened Pandora's box, but he kind of thought it was in a candy shop, "what would you suggest we do?"
"We are not doing anything," Nick said. "The whole point of this was to stop you from ever meeting me. So, as soon as I can stand and see straight, I'm getting out of here. And you can just pretend none of this ever happened."
"Uh, no. I really can't. And, well, that seems kind of selfish of you. I mean, don't I get a say in this? In whether or not I get to meet my future, well, whatever you are to me. Roommate? Well, probably more than that. Boyfriend? Partner?" Monroe speculated.
"Husband," Nick said with a soft smile as a blush crept up his cheek. He lifted his hand to show Monroe his wedding band. Then, deciding it couldn't hurt, he wriggled it off to show him the engraving M & N, 2015. "We had to call five times to make sure these didn't say M & M."
"Oh my god," Monroe said, giving Nick a look that bordered between awe and horror as he slipped his ring back on. After being rendered speechless for about five whole minutes, he said,"Well, for the record, I think you're kind of shoddy at the whole marriage gig."
"For doing this?" Nick asked as Monroe nodded emphatically. Then he pressed, unconvinced, "For wanting to prevent your death?"
"No, for wanting to prevent my life," Monroe countered. "Look, I don't really know you, so maybe I'm wrong, but from what you've said, well, it seems like we're happy together, in the future, so why would you want to take that away from me?"
Nick didn't say anything, mostly because, loathe as he'd be to admit it, he knew then that Monroe was right - this had been an incredibly foolish plan. He'd just been too wrapped up in his own guilt to consider what Monroe might have wanted, and it almost definitely wasn't this. After all, Nick realized, meeting him had led to at least half of the things around which Monroe's life revolved - the spice shop, Rosalee, him.
"Never thought about it like that, huh?" Monroe asked.
"No, I really hadn't. I was just so tired of everyone being hurt because of me and who I am, and you ...you were just about the last thing I could take," Nick said, sitting up and rubbing at his forehead, trying not to think about the way he'd found Monroe, knowing full well his resolve would weaken if he did. Then after taking a few long, thoughtful sips of his water, he asked sullenly, "How am I going to fix this?"
"Don't look at me," Monroe said throwing his hands up. "I'm just the guy who's life you possibly ruined."
"I did technically just save your life too. So no need to be overdramatic or anything," Nick said as he rolled his eyes, mostly because he was hoping that that wasn't exactly what he'd just done. "Now, did you still want to help?"
Nick was really hoping he would because he did not currently have the means or the energy to find a '78 Bordeaux.
"Help prevent you from preventing me from meeting you? Well that's a mouthful," Monroe said. "But, yeah. I think I'd like to meet my future husband properly the first time around. Though I have to ask, what way was that exactly?"
"Well, I was about to pin you against your wall and accuse you of kidnapping a little girl," Nick said sheepishly. "Then later tonight, I would have come back and demanded you give me information about Blutbaden, because I didn't really know anything about Wesen."
"And this leads to us being together?" Monroe asked, looking skeptical. "How?"
"Mostly it boils down to some really persistent pestering on my part," Nick said. "And you being a somewhat reluctant pushover."
Monroe glowered at him. Clearly, the fact that he'd just offered to help a guy who claimed to be his time traveling husband from the future had been completely lost on him.
Knowing he was right, Nick simply shook his head. Then, in an attempt to get up again, he swung his legs over the side of the couch. It seemed, fortunately, that the effects of the sedative had mostly worn off, but the moment he tried putting weight on his ankle, pain shot through it.
He pursed his lips tightly as Monroe wrapped his arm around him shoulder, letting him limp against his side, "Okay. Well, I did say I'd help. This'll be a start. Now where are we going?"
"My aunt's trailer," Nick said, cringing inwardly when he realized it was still in the driveway of his old house. "Though we might run into a few obstacles. For starters, my truck keys are kind of still in the future so we'll have to take the Volkswagen."