Notes: Thanks guest BJ for your lovely words. Hank definitely needs more fic time. Pesterfield I'm making you my official beta. Seriously, PM me, I need you.

Warnings: Language, injurious injuries or in other words Nick whumpage, Monroe's wolf poking its head out just a little (that sounded less dirty in my mind), partial nudity (I know, I should have tried harder), and completely unnecessary underwear references.

() () ()

Monroe shut the door of the hospital room with a quiet snick. If Nick was still asleep he didn't want to be the one to wake him.

"I'm up," Nick said from behind the curtain.

"It's just me. Are you decent?"

"Um, mostly."

"Not an answer, dude," Monroe scoffed and pulled aside the curtain. The blinds were down and the lights off except for a lamp on the table across the room. Nick was sitting sideways on the hospital bed, pale and bruised in the dim lighting but, hey, upright and talking.

"You have your pants on," Monroe observed cheerfully. "I was fully prepared for awkward and traumatizing levels of nudity."

Nick brought out a small smirk, only wincing a little as the expression pulled on sore skin. "Sorry to disappoint. There would have been less nudity but…." He trailed off staring pitifully at the t-shirt crumpled on his lap.

"You can't lift your arms that high." Three days with his arms cuffed behind his back hadn't done the man any favors but the doctors had determined that there would be no lasting damage just sore muscles and a month of weekly visits to the physical therapist. "It's amazing how we take something like that for granted until we can't do it. Like blinking. You never think about blinking until you're really, really tired and your eyelids feel like elephants are sitting on them—"

Rounding the end of the bed, he stopped dead, staring. There was an oval bruise on Nick's chest he hadn't seen before. It was the size of a man's knee and there was a hand print on his left bicep where they'd held him down.

"I'm alright, Monroe," Nick said softly, looking up at him from under a thatch of bangs with wide gray eyes.

Abruptly he realized he was growling, low and guttural, and made it stop.

"You can…" he made a gesture that looked vaguely like he was swatting at a fly, "…do the sniffing thing if you need to." He grinned suddenly, a flash of teeth in the dim light. "But no licking."

Part of Monroe took a moment to be thrilled that he now had in-jokes. The rest was all for taking Nick up on his offer and finally easing the last of the worry that had lodged in his gut for the past four days.

Monroe buried his nose in Nick's throat. He'd showered, washing off the blood and mud and ziegevolk stench, but there was a lingering chemical tang of the drugs still passing out of his body, the faintest taint of the pheromone doing the same, chlorine, muscle rub all down the back of his neck and shoulders, and…and peaches and cream body-wash? Very manly.

"Don't laugh," Nick complained. "It took three showers to get that damn pheromone off. I went through half a bottle of my stuff left then had to resort to Juliette's."

"I'll take peaches over ziegevolk any day." He touched gentle fingers to the skin around the bruises on Nick's collarbone and freshly shaven jaw. "If you hadn't killed him, I would have."

Nick frowned up at him. "Not your job. I'm glad you didn't have to."

Pulling back, Monroe picked up the shirt and searched out the tag to figure out which way was the front. "I wish you hadn't had to," he said, "but as first kills go it was pretty spectacular. I mean, stick through the neck." He attempted to make the appropriate hand movements but ended up tangled in Nick's t-shirt. "Impressive."

Nick rolled his eyes and ducked his head, scratching gingerly at a forearm.

"Are you, ah, okay with it then?" he thought to ask.

Nick lifted his head and it was all Monroe could do not to retreat to the other side of the room. Woo boy, those were definitely Grimm eyes. "The moment he said Juliette's name he was dead."

Monroe nodded easy agreement with that. As far as he was concerned Capra was dead the moment he decided it would be a good idea to pad his bank account by selling a Grimm.

Nick dropped his gaze again, shoulders slumping, and he was no longer the Grimm he was just Nick, hurting and exhausted. "The room they kept me in…did you see it?"

He'd seen it. Stripped bare from the ceiling to the floorboards, windows boarded up and draped, it would have been pitch black when the light was off. He hadn't lingered.

"When they came in to drug me, Capra would ask me questions about Juliette. What her schedule was, where she would be." Nick smiled thinly. "I think I told him to fuck off several times."

Of course he had.

"And I recall being extremely worried that I was going to be late for dinner."

Of course he was.

Nick glanced up, catching the look on Monroe's face. "Hey, I was drugged," Nick defended, but he was smiling too. "And I kept thinking that you were right."

"Of course I was." Monroe straightened Nick's shirt out and rucked up the bottom until the arm holes were clearly visible. "You're going to have to be more specific about which instance."

"Ha," Nick said then paused to breath heavily as he got first one hand then the other successfully through. "I meant about Capra not staying in jail. There was only one way this was ever going to end."

Monroe winced as he eased the shirt up to Nick's elbows, scraping over the Band-Aids littering the insides of his arms. "This would be a lot easier if you stuck with the little cotton gown."

"No," Nick said bluntly.

Monroe huffed a little but couldn't blame him. "Right then, can you lift your arms high enough to get this over your head?"

Not so much.

"Hmmmm…okay maybe if you—duck—duck your head—no not like that! Here—let me—there. Ah ha. Success."

Nick dropped his head into his hands, leaving Monroe to tug his shirt down and smooth it over his sweaty back.

"You alright? And by that I mean actually alright and not Nick values of alright?"

"Headache," Nick muttered. "Fucking ziegevolk. "

"You want me to get the nurse?"

Nick made an effort to straighten up. "I'm two hours away from being able to get more OTC painkillers and the stuff they will give me now will mess me up. Is Juliette outside?"

"She and Hank went out for food." He checked his watch. He'd sat in the hall for about forty-five minutes before he'd gone in to see if Nick was awake. "They're probably back by now. You want me to see if she's outside?"

"Please." He eased back onto the bed by inches, letting his shoulders and head down on the pillow with a sigh.

Monroe started for the door then spun around and marched back. "She—ah—Juliette that is…. Did she tell you…?"

"That she wasn't actually pregnant?" Nick asked. "She told me."

"Oh. Good." That was slightly less awkward then. "So? Are you happy, sad, mildly apathetic?" Nick wasn't giving him a lot to work with as far as facial expressions went.

"I'm fairly relieved. At this point in our lives we'd have trouble keeping a turtle alive much less a child. But, you know, maybe in a couple years when things have settled down."

"That's a good plan. We'll start you out slow. Maybe a fichus or a goldfish." Monroe poked his head out the door, spotted the familiar red hair just popping around the corner, loaded down with take-out bags. Hank was right behind her with a drink carrier in one hand, cell phone in the other.

"Hey, sorry we took so long." Juliette set the bags onto the end of the bed by Nick's feet. "I think they were waiting for the lettuce to grow." Rounding the bed she dropped a kiss on the top of Nick's head. "How's your headache?"

Nick wobbled a hand in a so-so movement. "I was hoping you had aspirin in your purse so I wouldn't have to bother the nurse." He shot Monroe a look when he opened his mouth to remind Nick that he'd just said he couldn't have more pills for a couple hours.

Monroe lifted his hands in surrender. If Nick thought he could handle it, he wasn't going to say anything. Chances were, as a Grimm, he was burning through the meds faster than normal anyway.

Juliette dug a bottle out of her purse and shook out two pills, handing them over with the water from the bedside table. "Here you go, hon. Your doctor said you could have regular food so long as you didn't overdo it. So," she dug into the plastic bag and came up with a Styrofoam cup and spoon. "Chicken noodle soup and crackers. And if you eat all that there may be pie in your future." Pushing the tray table closer she set the food on it, popping the lid off the soup.

"Ooooh, pie," Nick said, giving her a cheeky grin.

Juliette smoothed the hair back from his forehead. "Cherry pie."

"My favorite." He gave her a sunny smile and picked up his spoon, searching a bit for a way to hold it that didn't hurt.

Hank entered, tucking his phone into his pocket. "That was the Captain. They'll be here in forty minutes."

"Renard is coming here?" Monroe asked, somewhat alarmed. He hadn't yet found a good moment to bring up that whole Royal connection thing what with Nick being mostly unconscious and then in cleanup and then sedated and then in x-ray and then actually sleeping.

"He's driving up with the union rep and precinct lawyer," Hank explained. He took the Styrofoam tray Juliette handed him and found a chair, dragging it closer so he could use the end of the bed as a table.

Juliette pulled another carton out of the bag and read the name on the top in black marker. This one's yours, Monroe. Why are they coming here? We'll be back in Portland tomorrow."

"The Sheriff and county prosecutor are coming to take a statement," Nick said, "and decide if they'll press charges for Capra's death."

"Charges!" Monroe gasped overlapping Juliette who was complaining, "The man kidnapped you. They should charge him with that posthumously."

That explained, Monroe realized, Nick's insistence on real clothes and no pain pills.

"It's not likely," Hank talked over top of them both. "They're just dotting the I's and crossing the T's. Renard's being his usual meticulous self, making sure none of this comes back and bites Nick in the ass ten years from now."

Juliette's scowl deepened and she stabbed viciously at her lunch with her plastic fork.

"Hey," Nick touched a hand to her arm. "It'll be fine."

Juliette frowned at him and the two of them had a whole silent conversation with their eyes while Hank pretended fascination with his sandwich. Monroe rested his chin on his fist and stared unabashedly. It was like one of those Spanish soap operas with all the big eyes and meaningful looks.

Finally Juliette let out a long breath and squeezed Nick's hand and Nick tangled their fingers together, forcing both of them to eat one handed. "Did you guys find a nice hotel?" he asked.

Subject firmly changed then.

They had finished lunch and were sitting around planning the drive home when Nick's Captain arrived, assorted suits in tow. After about fifteen minutes sitting in the waiting room worrying, Juliette declared they might as well take a walk.

"It could be hours," she said, texting Hank (who had been allowed to stay in the room with Nick) as they headed out the door. "We might as well see the town. Find a good coffee shop."

It was sunny but the wind was brisk and chill, coming off the snow-topped mountains that towered over the town. Monroe zipped his jacket to his chin and asked, "Which way looks good."

Juliette paused to tuck her hair up under a hat. "I don't suppose you can smell good coffee from this distance, can you?"

"If there's good coffee to smell," he tapped the side of his nose, "I'll sniff it out." He took a deep breath and mostly got gas and oil and exhaust and pine trees but very faintly he caught the subtle waft of fresh brew. "That way." He pointed across the parking lot then realized that he was also pointing directly at A. Gebhard, FBI SWAT medic, just getting out of a beat up Chevy pickup that had probably been pretty fancy back in the 70's.

Dressed in jeans, sweatshirt, and a Mariner's baseball cap Monroe recognized him mostly because of his height and build. Spotting them, he headed their direction and Monroe did introductions. "Juliette this is…I have no idea what your rank is. Or if I should even use it since you're not on duty."

"Aaron is fine." Gebhard offered a hand to Juliette. "Ma'am."

"Juliette, please. Were you on the team that rescued Nick?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm with the FBI."

"He's the team medic."

"Oh, Nick mentioned you." She beamed at him and the big man turned a nice shade of fuchsia. "Something about impressive furriness."

"Furriness?" Gebhard repeated flatly.

"He was still pretty out of it," Juliette apologized, trying really hard not to smile.

"And it was impressive furriness," Monroe pointed out. "Of course I think he's only seen two jagerbar besides you so…."

Gebhard didn't seem to appreciate his attempt to help and glared, pointing a finger. "You still owe me an explanation."

"We are just headed out in search of decent coffee," Juliette said. "You should come along and grill Monroe out of this wind." She looped her arm through his, effectively stopping any escape.

The other arm was offered to Monroe and he took it bemusedly.

"Right then." She started off in the direction Monroe had pointed out. "Wow, you two make excellent windbreaks."

"So glad we could be of service," Monroe chuckled.

Gebhard chuffed a little. But he was smiling, obviously charmed by Juliette's forwardness. "Should I be worried that I'm walking with another Grimm?" he asked, plainly not worried.

"Oh, not me," she demurred. "Just boring old human."

"But you know about us?"

"I know a little. Nick…well. It's complicated."

Gebhard snorted. "I don't doubt it. How about," he said mildly, "an explanation as to why a blutbad is willing to step in front of a loaded gun to protect a Grimm?"

"Monroe," Juliette said, looking up at him, "you did that?"

Monroe said weakly, "Um…."

"He did," Gebhard volunteered for him.

Monroe curled his lip at the jagerbar over Juliette's head. Gebhard just smirked at him. He couldn't believe he'd actually liked the guy.

"Oh, Monroe." Freeing her arms, she hugged him so tight. "That's for protecting Nick." Then she stepped back and punched him in the arm. "And that's for putting yourself in danger. You're important to us too you know."

"Ow. Sorry," he offered. The punch hadn't hurt. Much. But it must have rattled something loose because his chest felt odd of a sudden, warm and achy at the same time.

Threading her arm through his again, she ordered sternly, "Just don't do it again."

"Believe me I have absolutely no intentions towards future self-endangerment." Lies. Complete and utter lies. If he really meant that he'd never speak to the Grimm again. So long, hasta luego, have a good life. Back to his empty house and his routine and the ticking of his clocks filling up the silence.

Monroe rubbed his chest with his free hand, capturing the lingering warmth of the knowledge that he had people who cared.

"Come on boys. I see a café sign right down there."

"I don't get a hug?" Gebhard complained obviously teasing, but Monroe threw him a little growl all the same.

Juliette elbowed him in the ribs and smiled up at Gebhard. "Have you had lunch? I'm buying."

"An offer I can't refuse."

() () ()

"In the forest," Gebhard started once they had all picked out drinks and food and a table in the back where they could talk quietly, "Monroe said that your Nick was a newby."

Juliette nodded and looked up at him through the steam coming off her cup. She'd kept her hat on but a few tendrils of hair had escaped, falling around her face, and her cheeks were pink from the cold. "Just a few months. His parents died when he was young and they had never told him about any of this. Then a few months ago some long lost relative he'd thought had died two decades ago actually did die and Nick started seeing…well you guys."

"Man," Gebhard said, sucking air through his teeth in a surprised noise, "that must have been one hell of a shock."

"To say the least," Monroe said. He sampled his chocolate chip muffin. Not bad.

"He tried to hide it from me for the first week," Juliette said. "When he finally fessed up we started going to doctors. Spent a few months thinking he had a brain tumor or some sort of hereditary disease or something equally awful."

"His parents didn't tell him anything?" Gebhard asked incredulously. "That seems rather shortsighted."

Monroe snapped his fingers and pointed. "Bingo."

Juliette sighed. "I think they were trying to protect him. There was a car accident when Nick was twelve and all of a sudden they up and moved to Portland. And as far as Nick was able to remember they stopped doing whatever normal Grimm's do and stuck to regular jobs."

Gebhard shook his head and sipped his drink. "Still. You have to assume there's a fair chance your kid is going to inherit more than the good silver when you pass on. It's amazing he didn't end up going nuts. Most people do when they get a look at us."

"Did you think he was crazy?" Monroe asked Juliette. He knew Nick had spent some sleepless nights trying to convince himself he wasn't.

Juliette gave the question a lengthy moment of consideration. "Nick is one of the most down to earth people I've ever met. It never really occurred to me to think it was anything except a medical issue." She licked a finger and swiped it through the scattering of crumbs on her plate. "And some of the people he saw reacted…oddly. It wasn't just that he was staring at them; you could tell that they knew he was seeing something different. Hank noticed it too."

Gebhard sat up straighter. "His partner knows?"

Juliette nodded. "Yep. Yours don't?"

"No." He pulled a face. "I mean, they know I'm..."

"Special," Monroe suggested.

"Special," Gebhard repeated an amused grin spreading over his face. "Special like a blutbad who hangs out with a Grimm."

"In his defense," Juliette said, "Nick did sort of recruit Monroe against his will."

"Really?" Gebhard asked, laughing. "This I must hear."

Juliette waved a hand at him which Monroe took to mean he was to tell that story while she nibbled her heart-healthy, whole-grain cinnamon roll.

"So I'm sitting at home one day, innocently minding my own business, and this guy shows up looking for a missing kid." Monroe paused, settling into his role as raconteur. "I had no idea he was a Grimm when I let him in."

Hank texted an hour later to say they were wrapping up. There was a smiley faced emoticon at the end which they collectively agreed was a good sign.

"Given Capra's record and the circumstances," Gebhard said, slurping the half-melted obnoxiously purple berry smoothie he'd picked out instead of coffee, "it's unlikely the prosecutor would even try. No one is going to want to be the one who brought charges against the hero cop who survived three days of imprisonment and, if you believe the news, grievous torture, then fought his way free." Slurp. "And there were the pictures and emails they found on Capra's laptop."

The pictures. God. He'd seen the pictures of Nick heavy-eyed and half conscious, obviously drugged, attached to emails to an overseas account. If Capra had lived to go to a trial the jury would have taken five minutes to convict him. As it was there was more than enough to send Capra's co-conspirators scrambling for plea deals.

Juliette grimaced down at the remnants of her Chai Spice Latte. She'd seen the pictures too.

"Do you suppose," Monroe mused, holding open the door to their floor, "I should get his autograph before all the media attention goes to his head?"

"Monroe!" Juliette exclaimed, attempting to sound scandalized and failing.

"What?" Monroe saw Hank by the vending machines as they rounded the corner. "I could sell it on EBay. Augment my specialty cheese budget."

Juliette dissolved into a severe giggling fit and he gave himself a little mental pat on the back for cheering her up.

"Do I even want to know?" Hank asked, coming up with a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup in one hand and a 7Up in the other.

"Let's just say," Juliette managed between giggles, "that if Nick's underwear starts showing up on EBay, I'll know who to blame." She looked pointedly in Monroe's direction.

Hank stared at her. Stared at Monroe. And reached the conclusion that, "Nope, I really don't want to know." He waved a hello to Gebhard. "You should come in. Nick wanted to thank you all personally but you had already gone by the time he was conscious enough to form complete thoughts." He started back down the hall and the rest of them trailed after like ducklings.

"Did everyone leave already?" Juliette asked.

"Yep. Renard was going to hang around but he had an errand over in Seattle before driving back to Portland and the meeting ran longer than anticipated."

"So what's the verdict?" Monroe burst out.

"Capra's death was ruled as a non-criminal homicide. No other charges pending as far as Nick is concerned."

Gebhard broke into a big grin. "Told you."

"So that's good?"

"That's very good," Hank affirmed. "He'll be on paid leave for a few days while everything gets processed and filed but that should be over with by the time he gets off medical restrictions."

Back in the room, Hank handed over the 7Up to Nick but kept the candy for himself despite the soulful looks Nick gave it. "You can have one when you've finished your soda," he said clearly believing Nick wouldn't feel up to it.

"Nausea?" Gebhard asked, grabbing Nick's chart off the end of the bed.

"A little," Nick admitted.

"From the headache?"

"Probably yeah." He shifted a little, easing his shoulders down the pillow and sipped his 7Up. "It's sort of like the morning after hangover only without the fun."

Juliette tucked herself onto the bed next to him, making him shift over to make room. "Is it the same as the last time?" she asked Nick.

"Last time?" Gebhard asked, thumbing through the paperwork.

"The first time we met Capra shook my hand," Nick explained. "Gave me one hell of a headache for the rest of the day."

"And it made you act drunk," Monroe reminded him. "Don't forget that. He was talking nonsense and suffered from a bout of painfully bad judgment that involved DUZI. Driving-While-Under-Ziegevolk-Influence." He paused to enjoy the clever acronym then added, "Not that bad judgment is necessarily a rare thing. I mean there was that time with the bouchon d'eau—"

"Yes, thank you, Monroe!" Nick said loudly. "We all know that story."

"I don't," Gebhard said, leaning back in his chair with a grin.

"Man, I had slime in places that slime should never go." Hank was methodically nibbling around the first cup, eating off all the chocolate scalloping before moving onto the peanut butter center. "Except the way I remember it, Monroe was the one who had a lapse in judgment."

"What?" Monroe yelped. "No way."

"That's right," Nick crowed. "It wasn't until you went all wolfie on the slug that the slug went all…explosively sluggie."

Hank grinned hugely. "See there was this water sprite—"

"An undine," Monroe interjected.

"Water sprite," Hank continued, "who came into the station to report a trespasser on the family property. They had twenty acres just outside of the city with a bit of creek and a pond and apparently someone had been coming in at night to use the pond for extracurricular activities."

"It was a slow week," Nick said, "and the Captain gave us the case."

"How'd that work out for you?" Gebhard asked with a smirk.

"She was a little startled at first," Nick said. "But after we got over that bump in the road we were able to catch her night time skinny dipper."

Hank kicked his feet up on the end of Nick's bed. "Turns out he was some sort of water slug recently moved to the area. The local hasslich where he'd lived before had used the abandoned quarry just over the hill from his lake as a toxic dumping ground. Polluted the hell out of the groundwater."

"Wait is this Maria and Phil you're talking about?" Juliette broke in. "You didn't tell me they met because she tried to have him arrested."

"I told you this story," Nick disagreed. "And she did have him arrested. He spent a night in lockup before she dropped the charges."

Juliette poked him in the side making him jump and grab at her hand. "You did not tell me that. You just said they had met when Maria came in to file a police report."

Nick dropped a kiss on her hand, insisting, "I told you she had a trespasser."

Monroe got up to grab one of the water bottles from the small cooler of drinks they'd shoved into the bathroom to keep from tripping over it. It was usually kept in Juliette's car for house calls but she'd brought it up after he'd complained about the tap water smelling strongly of chlorine. Last night's shower had left him tight-skinned and itchy and missing his expensive filtration system at home.

Straightening up he turned and found Gebhard had followed him and was now leaning against the wall watching Nick and Juliette do that sickeningly adorable thing they did when they argued without really arguing. There probably wouldn't be a real argument for months, or at least until the knowledge that they had literally been hours away from losing Nick faded a little.

"It's a nice little pack you've got here, Monroe," Gebhard said. "Strange but nice." He clapped Monroe on the shoulder hard enough he staggered. "See you later, blutbad," he added and grabbed his jacket off the chair, said his goodbyes, and headed out the door, leaving Hank with a business card and Monroe with his mouth hanging open.

Pack. He didn't. He should have….

Aw, hell

It made sense. Watching Nick trying to steal Hank's last peanut butter cup, Hank fending him off with a foot he remembered how he'd felt when they'd found out Nick was gone. The shock of anger when he'd heard that Capra had even thought about going after Juliette. The way Hank had looked at him as he'd adjusted the straps on the Kevlar vest and told him to keep his head down and be safe. He'd been letting them into his territory, feeding them, watching over them, and he hadn't had that in so, so long.

"Hey, Monroe," Nick called, jolting him out of his thoughts.

He walked back over to his chair and took a seat. "I'm not helping you steal Hank's candy."

Nick rolled his eyes. "When do you have to be back for work?"

"Monday will be soon enough." He'd emptied his work box and wouldn't pick up more watches from the jewelers until Tuesday afternoon.

"My cousin has a summer house just down the coast from Seattle. He's in Arizona right now and he told me where the extra key is. Four bedrooms, ocean view. All we have to do is pick up some groceries on the way."

He glanced at Hank who was looking at Nick with a worried expression. Nick had his eyes closed and his head resting on Juliette's shoulder and it occurred to Monroe that he might not be ready to go home quite yet.

Juliette had kindly stopped by his house to pick up a change of clothes, meds, and a few other things he needed to survive away from home. Hank had the essentials from the duffle bag he'd brought along. He nodded thoughtfully. "I actually haven't been to the top of the Space Needle."

Nick smiled without opening his eyes and murmured. "We can't have that."

"It will be fun," Juliette said. "Like a big sleepover."

"Yeah," Hank chipped in, "we can watch scary movies and braid each other's hair."

Juliette laughed. "Don't be jealous just because Nick and I are the only ones with enough hair to braid."

"We could braid Monroe's beard," Nick said bringing out the big, happy smile that lit up his whole face.

"Don't mock the beard, man." He settled deeper into his chair, cracking open the water, and considered heading back to the motel for a nap. Sitting watch last night hadn't been particularly restful. He kept thinking he could smell hexenbeist but hadn't seen anything and had eventually concluded he was having flashbacks to the first time he'd babysat his Grimm in the hospital.

"Beard envy," Hank said wisely. "It ain't pretty."

Nick grinned at him. "Is that a challenge? Because I'm pretty I was the one ahead in the beard category on that three-day Wickermen stakeout."

"That's not how I remember it," Hank said.

"They say the memory is the first thing to go."

On second thought, the nap could wait. He was quite comfortable where he was.

THE END

Notes: This is the point where I get to say: HOLY BUCK-TOOTHED EISBIBER, BATMAN, IT'S DONE! I have an epilogue of sorts and a bonus chapter I'm going to attach to this story in a bit and a couple one-shots that will be attached to this particular alternate universe so keep an eye out for them.

Big, big, BIG thanks to everyone who read and special squirrel hugs to all of you who reviewed and gave helpful comments. As happy as I am to have finished this, it was really fun while it lasted.

* If you want to request a one-shot about a particular character or theme from the story send it on over. I don't promise anything but I'll give them a shot.