Monroe drove Rosalee back to their place, glancing over at her every about every five minutes.

"If you don't start paying attention to the road, I'm going to drive." She said lightly. "I swear, I'm fine."

Monroe nodded, considering. "Not sure your definition of fine is the same as everyone else's."

She smiled and looked at him, concerned. "What about you? Nick said this was over. How do you feel?"

Monroe stared ahead at the road for the longest amount of time he had yet before answering. "I had this blinding rage urging me to hunt. That's gone. Thank God. But…"

"The fallout," she responded gently.

"I killed two people, Rosalee," he said regretfully. "That alone, but…I'd been off meat for so long."

She nodded, "I'll get you through it."

Monroe just nodded as he pulled up to the house. "Now, let me look at those ankles."

Inside, she sat down and held out her legs for Monroe to bandage. Her wrists were a little raw but otherwise really not bad. Her ankles were worse: raw, bruised, and still bleeding a little, but the cuts had managed to avoid needing stitches. Yet, while Monroe was gentle putting on the healing cream and wrapping them, the look on his face was a different story. "It wasn't his fault, Monroe," Rosalee reminded, "You know that."

Monroe made a fist before releasing it with a deep breath. "Yea. I know. And I suppose it's not like I'm in any position to judge right now, either. Still, though."

Rosalee nodded and wrapped her arms around him. "We're all still here and I'm not gonna let anything happen to either of you."

"How did I get so lucky to have you?" He laid her back, running his hand through her hair and kissing her.

Nick had barely spoken or gotten out of bed the next day. Juliet hadn't pushed it. The second day, Hank called. "Hey, Juliet. Just wanted to see if you guys needed anything?"

She smiled unhappily. "We're managing, but we've got it handled."

"Alright. Tell Nick to take the time off, but we miss him over here."

"Thank you, Hank. I will."

It wasn't too long later, she answered the ringing phone again. "Hello?"

"Juliet. It's Rosalee. We were just wondering how Nick's doing?"

She sighed. "Not great, but he's working through it. What about you and Monroe?"

"Same for Monroe," Rosalee answered, "I may have had to stop him from ripping off some jerk's arm on the street. But, really, we're doing good all things considered. Tell Nick we called, will you?"

"Sure, Rosalee. Thanks for checking on him."

"Of course."

Juliet marched upstairs, somewhat appeased to see he was at least out of bed. "Hank and Rosalee called. They're all worried about you."

Nick stopped at the top of the whatever-count sit up he'd been on. He hung is head. "I don't know what to say to them."

Juliet came to sit on the floor next to him. "Like I told you. I don't think it's so much what you say. Just doing what you can to help now. You said yourself you didn't want this to just go away. So. Go face it." She batted him lightly with a pillow that had fallen on the floor. "Which you can't do staying in this room forever."

He put up his hands. "Okay," he sighed. "Okay. You're right." He smiled tentatively. "But I could use some help."

She smiled. "That's what I'm here for." A few hours later and their kitchen smelled like spring tea, cinnamon and mildly burnt vegetables. "Nick!" She laughed, rushing over to the burner to turn it down. "Did the whole thing fry your brain? You want to sauté them, not charbroil them. Look, this is sweet, but maybe you should let me cook."

"And what kind of starting apology would that be? Here you go! Juliet cooked it."

She chuckled. "Well they won't have any if you burn down the kitchen first. Here," she relented, pushing over a bowl to him. "Think you can mix up spices without any disasters?"

He nodded, "I should be able to manage that."

"And call to let them know we'll be over soon." She instructed, looking at him sternly when he hesitated.

He put up a placating hand and called.

"Nick?" Rosalee answered, sounding pleased and worried at the same time. "It's good to hear from you."

He took a breath. "Rosalee, are you okay? I'm so sorry."

"Nothing I haven't been able to handle."

"What about Monroe?"

"It hasn't been an easy few days, but he's held to a diet like a perfect reformist."

"Good. Listen, we were wondering if we could come over for a bit?"

"We'd love that."

An hour later, Rosalee answered the door. Nick just stared at her before she pulled him into a hug. "I'm glad you're here."

He nodded, and hugged her return. A moment later, he held out the veggie course. "We made dinner. Well, I tried to make dinner. Juliet saved it from burning."

Rosalee started laughing. "Come in. Monroe, they're here!"

Monroe came around the corner, smiling. "Oh, I heard. That smells amazing."

Nick looked at him and started to speak before Monroe stopped him. "I know. Me too, for what it's worth." He looked at Nick's arm that still had butterfly bandages over several dark, jagged, now bruised cuts halfway healed. "Did I do that?"

Nick shrugged with a small smile. "Pretty sure I deserved it."

Monroe replied, "Guess it's good we're on the same side."

Juliet interjected. "No argument there. Now who's hungry?"

"Definitely." "Seconded."

Monroe threw Nick a beer and Juliet poured out wine for her and Rosalee. It would take some more time; but, for now, it was just good to have everyone together.

A/N: Thanks for reading it all! This started as NaNo Project with just a vague idea and two scenes that completely took off, becoming way longer than I'd planned once I started. But, I had a ton of fun writing it! Pestilentia and the wolverine wesens were my own creations. Leave a comment letting me know what you think.