A/N:
You guys are the best! Thanks again for the great reviews, (and shout-out to WolfStar4 who I think has reviewed every chapter, you rock!), they really keep me excited about this story and wanting to write even more! That being said, I never expected to it to be this long really, and sadly, there's only one, maybe two chapters left (I may have to split the last chapter because it's getting waaaay too long). There may be room for a sequel… we shall see!
This chapter will be a little more Nick-centric since he's been hurt and unconscious for most of this story (I regret nothing), and get ready for some angsty bromantic Nick & Monroe feels. Also, the last couple lines were inspired by a great fanfic by Amerou I read ages ago in a different fandom, and I thought the idea fit well here too.
Happy reading!
~The FictionalMe~
The next time Nick awoke, he was slightly more coherent. The first thing that came flooding back to his senses was the overwhelming smell of antiseptic and bleach. It filtered in through the flow of oxygen coming from the plastic nasal cannula that was currently placed in his nose and looped tightly around his ears. Coupled with the gentle beeping of various machines around him, he figured that it could only mean he was in one place…the hospital.
Huh. Not dead then.
He slowly pried open his heavy eyelids, blinking groggily to focus his still blurred vision. From what he could tell, he was in a stark white hospital room, but it was dark, and only the light spilling in from the hallway illuminated the room enough for him to see. He swallowed, wincing at the soreness in his throat, noticing gratefully that whatever had been choking him before was now gone. There were low voices carrying into his room from the hallway, and he could vaguely hear what sounded like Hank talking, but he couldn't make out precisely what he was saying.
Nick turned his head slightly then to see Juliette in a chair by his bed, her fingers interlaced tightly with his. She had her head propped forward onto the side of the bed next to him, nestled on the crook of her elbow, and she was fast asleep. Nick frowned in worry at the exhaustion and stress evident on her face even while she slept. He made a move to squeeze her hand, but was surprised by how much even the small movement caused a sharp pang to flare through his entire chest. He was unable to suppress a small groan that escaped involuntarily, which made Juliette shoot up instantly from her sleeping position, eyes wide and looking around frantically.
"Nick?" she asked, and her voice was so simultaneously full of hope and fear that his heart lurched a little bit. Their eyes met, and she looked as though a thousand different emotions were hitting her at once.
"…hi," he croaked, his voice dry and rough from nonuse and the tube had been shoved uncomfortably down his throat.
"Oh thank God," Juliette was suddenly hovering over him, as tears began steadily streaming down her face, even though she was blinking desperately against them. "We were, I was, so scared…that you wouldn't…"
She tried vainly to choke back a sob, and Nick instinctively pulled her closer to him, even though the motion to lift his arms took all of his strength and his chest felt as though it was on fire. None of that mattered, nothing except having Juliette safe in his arms once again.
"Juliette…it's ok," he soothed into her hair, as she clung to him tightly. "I-I'm ok…"
She nodded, pulling back to wipe at her tears. "Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly as she dried her eyes, taking a shaky breath and struggling to regain her composure.
Nick shook his head slowly, putting his arms back down and regretting the motion as he felt the pull against the stitches in his chest from the movement. "Don't…be."
"It's just," she frowned as she looked at the ceiling for a moment, before looking back at him steadily, "you really scared us, Nick. We really thought…" she paused, shaking her head.
"I'm sorry," Nick replied hoarsely, mustering the strength for his best smile and squeezing her hand. "I didn't mean…to scare you." He winced as the throbbing pain became persistently worse. He couldn't even finish a full sentence without running out of breath.
"I'm just so glad you're ok," Juliette smiled gratefully at him, reaching up to cup the side of his face gently. He turned slightly into her touch and kissed her hand.
"Would take…more than that…to keep me…away from you," he ground out between short breaths, closing his eyes as another sharp spasm gripped him. Breathing and talking were proving to be more taxing than he had anticipated.
"Nick, are you ok?" Juliette asked hurriedly, her voice full of concern. "I'll go get the doctor."
"…no," Nick replied roughly, shaking his head. "All I need right now…is you."
"I'm not going anywhere," Juliette replied softly, as she squeezed his hand again. "But seriously, how do you feel?"
He opened his eyes to meet her firm and perceptive gaze, quickly realizing that the standard 'I'm fine' phrase he typically used when he was hurt wasn't going to work this time.
"I'm…sore," he answered honestly, although it was a bit of an understatement, but he didn't think that she needed to hear 'Well honey, it feels like a million stabbing knives every time I breathe'. She was already worried enough if her pale complexion and the dark circles under her eyes were any indication.
"Yea, I bet you are," Juliette smiled sympathetically, not looking as though she really believed his answer, but purposely letting it slide. She leaned down then to place a chaste kiss on his lips, smoothing back his mussed hair from his clammy forehead. "I love you, so much," she told him firmly, running a hand gently through his hair, "but if you ever scare me like that again…"
Nick smiled wearily at her. "I'm sorry, Juliette. I promise…I'll try not to," he paused to catch his breath, giving her a knowing look. They both knew that with his job, both jobs at that, he couldn't really promise her that something like this wouldn't happen again. He squeezed her hand again softly in reassurance. "Love you too."
"Nick?" a male voice was now in the room, and Nick could hear a set of footsteps hurriedly coming closer to the bed. Juliette straightened up and moved back, and Nick could see Hank's anxious and relieved face staring down at him.
He smiled weakly at his partner. "…hey Hank."
"You're awake," Hank broke into an incredulous smile, barely hiding the relief in his voice. "It's about time. Welcome back man."
"Thanks," Nick replied hoarsely, wincing as he tried shifting slowly in the bed, still unable to get comfortable. Getting shot in the chest really hurt.
"How do you feel?" Hank asked him pointedly, as Juliette kept an unrelenting death grip on his hand, as if it was the lifeline keeping him there with them.
"Hm," Nick groaned as he shifted again, sending another stabbing pain through him as he moved, "a little sore." Juliette let go of his hand and quickly adjusted some pillows behind his head, and he fell back against them with a loud sigh.
Hank scoffed. "Sure, tough guy. You were only shot in the chest, and unconscious for almost a week, but I'm sure you are just 'a little sore'."
"That long?" Nick asked incredulously, thinking of his near-death experience and her. Aunt Marie. It had all seemed so real…
Maybe it was.
"Yea, you're telling me," Hank sighed, shaking his head. "It's been a hell of a week." He paused, putting a hand to his chin. "What do you remember?"
"I'm not…really sure…" Nick frowned, closing his eyes and trying to recall the fuzzy events from the wedding. They flashed through his mind like moving pictures to a silent film.
The wedding. Danger. Juliette looking beautiful. Monroe and Rosalee's vows. The gun. The gun aimed at Monroe…
"Monroe," Nick's eyes flew open, and the beeping of his heart monitor kicked up a notch as he panicked, realizing he didn't know if Monroe was ok. If he was ok, he would be here right now, wouldn't he? "Monroe, did he…" He tried to sit up suddenly in the bed, groaning audibly at the gripping spasm as he moved too quickly.
"Nick, you have to calm down," Juliette reassured him, pressing him back against the pillows. He was too weak to even struggle, flopping back against the bed at her gentle touch. "Monroe is fine. So is Rosalee."
"Yea man," Hank added seriously, "just relax. Monroe is ok, thanks to you."
"…good," Nick nodded vaguely at that, trying to catch his breath. His lungs felt as though they were being ripped straight out of his chest. He lay still for a moment, waiting for the pain to subside and trying to ignore the worried looks Juliette and Hank were giving him.
He closed his eyes, trying to recall the events after he had been shot, but it was all pretty distant and jumbled. He could clearly remember the indescribable pain, and he remembered that they had all been there and talking to him, although he wasn't really sure now what they had been saying. He could distantly recall the tangible feeling of death nearby as the darkness pulled him under. Most off all, he remembered vividly what had happened after everything had gone dark, and it still felt so real. He opened his eyes again as the pain finally ebbed into a dull throbbing.
"Are you ok?" Juliette asked again worriedly as he met her gaze, her finger hovering on the call button. "I just called the nurse."
Nick nodded slightly, trying to hide the grimace on his face as he reassured her. "Yea. I'm fine."
"Sure you are," Hank muttered, before pulling out his phone. "I should probably call Monroe. I literally just kicked him out of here to go home and get some sleep. He looked like hell." He paused, glancing over at Nick. "He sure looks better than you, though."
Nick scoffed, smiling ruefully at him. "Gee, thanks Hank."
Hank snorted at that. "Just because you had to go be the hero and get shot doesn't mean I'm gonna go easy on you, Burkhardt. That was brave, what you did. And stupid. Damn stupid."
"Hank," Nick groaned, more from exasperation than pain this time, "don't start. Please." He did not feel up to getting one of Hank's infamous lectures today.
Hank raised an eyebrow at him as he dialed Monroe's number. "What, don't read you the riot act? You know that's standard protocol anytime you do something stupid and reckless. And this, my friend," he gestured at Nick's battered form in the bed, "definitely counts as both."
"Whatever," Nick grumbled, but he was still smiling, "worth it." He hesitated when he saw the pained expressions that Hank and Juliette both gave him, and realized how much he must have really scared them this time. His smile quickly fell.
"Look," he sighed, swallowing dryly around the soreness in his throat, "I wasn't trying to get shot. I was just trying to save Monroe."
"We know," Juliette replied softly, "but we almost lost you, Nick."
"Yea, it was bad this time," Hank added quietly. "You almost didn't come back from this."
"Well, I'm ok now," Nick protested feebly as he saw the dubious looks there were giving him. "Really."
Hank gave him another skeptical look as he stepped out of the room to call Monroe.
Juliette leaned down to kiss his forehead gently. "We're just glad to have you back."
Nick smiled tiredly back at her. "Me too."
Monroe stared numbly at the rings in the sink as they soaked in the soapy water. This was the fourth time he had washed them since the wedding, and although they were as shining and gold as ever, he could still see Nick's blood coated on them every time he looked at them.
He growled, taking the scrub brush and furiously scrubbing the sides of his ring again in desperation, tired of seeing red every time he looked at the rings, or at his hands.
It had been nearly a week, and Nick was still unconscious. He was off life support now, which was a positive sign, but he hadn't woken up again since the night Adalind had shown up at the hospital. He might never wake up.
Monroe couldn't live with that.
"Monroe," Rosalee's soothing voice reached him from the bathroom doorway, "you need to get some sleep. Why don't you take a break?"
Hank had quite literally (again) kicked him out of the hospital earlier, and it had taken that and all of Rosalee's gentle but firm urging to finally get him to come home.
He sighed, turning to look back at Rosalee. She had barely been sleeping either, and he frowned at the dark circles under her eyes.
Any time either of them closed their eyes, nightmares from the night of the wedding haunted them both. Monroe wasn't looking forward to experiencing another one any time soon.
Every time he closed his eyes, Rosalee's and Nick's deaths flashed before his eyes in vivid detail. He shuddered, looking wearily over at her.
"I'm not tired," he protested, but he was barely able to hide the shaking of hands or the fatigue in his voice.
Truthfully, he was exhausted, bone-tired even, but between the nightmares and the stress, he was lucky if he got a few hours fitfully through the night. The confrontation with Renard hadn't really helped matters any.
Renard assured them he had 'someone' on it, looking for Adalind and hunting down Eric, should he really still be alive. That someone was still in Europe, someone Renard said he could use to find Adalind, and who more importantly, was someone Adalind had trusted. But so far, no new leads had emerged. Monroe wondered if it was really possible that Eric could still be alive like Renard thought him to be, or if it was just a further manipulation by Renard to convince them of his innocence. He wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Everything was such a mess.
Nick really needed to wake up.
"I know," Rosalee smiled sadly at him, moving further into the bathroom and staring at the rings in his hands, "but you can't keep doing this to yourself."
He nodded absently, dropping his ring carelessly back into the sink and sighing deeply. He just needed to feel like he was doing something, anything, while they waited for Nick to recover and Renard to put his so-called plan in place. He opened his mouth to reply when his cell phone started ringing in his back pocket.
He hastily dried his hands on the towel next to the sink, holding Rosalee's concerned gaze as he pulled out the phone. He paused as he read the caller ID.
"It's Hank."
"Answer it," Rosalee urged him gently as he froze. It might not be good news, and Monroe found he was almost afraid to hear what Hank had to say.
"Right," he muttered, looking at her gratefully as she wrapped an arm around his waist and held him tightly. He settled his other arm securely around her shoulders for support as he answered the phone.
"Hank," Monroe greeted anxiously, holding his breath as he waited for the detective to speak. He was completely unprepared for Hank's reply.
"He's awake."
There were voices again, but this time Nick was sure that he wasn't dying.
"He's asleep now," Juliette's soft voice drifted to his ears, "but he was awake when we called. Sorry to make you guys rush up here."
"No, no, it's ok," he could hear Rosalee reassuring her. It sounded like they were in the doorway of the room, not all the way inside. Nick blinked slowly, cracking his eyes open in the darkened room. They were all huddled just outside his open door, talking in hushed voices as to not wake him. He closed his eyes again, listening to their quiet conversation.
"Well," he could hear Monroe's anxious voice, "how'd he seem?"
"He's a little out of it, understandably," Hank replied, "and he doesn't remember everything that happened, but we filled him in on most of it…." His voice lowered further then, and Nick couldn't quite make out the rest.
"Yea, that's ok, we can just tell him the rest later," he heard Monroe agreeing with whatever Hank had said, and Nick furrowed his brows at his words. "Right now he just needs to focus on recovery."
"I know it," Hank sighed in reply. "He's in a lot of a pain, but not admitting it, as usual. Classic Nick."
Nick could hear Monroe's snort of agreement as Rosalee added, "At least he's awake. So he's past the worst of it now?"
"Yea, that's what the doctors said earlier when they checked on him," Juliette replied with a tone of relief and amazement in her voice. "They can't believe how well he's doing, all things considered."
"Yea, all things considered, they can't believe he's alive," Monroe muttered, and Nick could hear him grunt as Rosalee undoubtedly hit his arm.
"Monroe," Rosalee chastised him gently.
"I know, I know," Monroe sighed, "sorry. I'm just glad he's better. Seriously."
"All of us are," Hank added in agreement. "I'm not sure he realizes how close he came this time."
Nick paused, peering open his eyes again. He realized more than they knew about how close he had come to almost leaving them for good, but no need to tell them about that just yet.
He cleared his throat then, startling them all when he spoke, "You know, it's rude to talk about someone behind their back."
All four of them wheeled around to stare wide-eyed back at him, before simultaneously moving to his bedside.
"Sorry," Juliette smiled, as she came over to squeeze his hand gently. "We didn't mean to wake you."
"Yea, wouldn't want to interrupt your beauty sleep," Hank raised an eyebrow at him, unable to to suppress a grin. "Lord knows you need plenty of that."
"Hey, injured person here," Nick protested, but he was grinning now too. "You're supposed to go easy on me."
"Yes, but we can also hover annoyingly around you until we're satisfied you're ok," Rosalee added from his other side, smiling at him fondly. "It's so good to see you awake, Nick."
"Thanks," he glanced gratefully up at her. "And I'm glad you and Monroe are ok."
"Me too," Rosalee reached out to squeeze his other hand firmly, "and I don't know what to say, Nick, just..." she stopped and leaned down to a place a gentle kiss on his cheek, "thank you. And don't do this again, ok?"
He smiled tiredly back at her, giving her a barely imperceptible nob, then frowned when he realized he couldn't see Monroe. He looked past Rosalee to see Monroe still standing uncomfortably in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets and looking at everything in the room except for at him.
Rosalee glanced back and her face fell when she saw Monroe still hanging back by the door. She gestured at him to come closer to the bed, but Monroe gave her the slightest shake of his head, hunching his shoulders rigidly.
She turned to Hank and Juliette, trying to draw their attention to the growing tension in the room. "I don't know about you guys, but I could really go for some coffee. Want to come with me downstairs to the cafeteria?"
"Ugh, the cafeteria coffee here is awful," Hank started, grunting when Juliette quickly elbowed him in the side. He paused, rubbing his side as he looked at her in confusion. "What..."
"That sounds great, Rosalee," Juliette said pointedly, giving Hank another look, and he quickly caught on.
"Oh, right. Did I saw awful? I meant awesome," Hank quickly backtracked. "Let's go get some."
"Let's," Rosalee motioned for them to follow her, "we'll be right back." With that they left, leaving Nick and Monroe alone together in the room.
Nick had seen right through their whole ploy, but he was more concerned as to why Monroe seemed to be avoiding him, still hanging back by the door and shifting his weight back and forth from foot to foot. A heavy silence fell between them, and Nick sighed, deciding he had better start first before Monroe became a permanent doorway fixture.
"Hey," he greeted quietly, assessing him with watchful eyes and trying to gauge his mood. When Monroe finally looked up at him, steadily holding his gaze, Nick frowned at the clearly pained and sorrowful look reflecting back at him. He hadn't been expecting Monroe to react this way. This was hardly the first (nor would it be the last) time he'd been hurt and in the hospital.
"Hey," Monroe replied, his voice quiet and hoarse, his hands still shoved stiffly in his pockets. He made no move to come any closer, looking absently around the room. An awkward silence stretched between then once again.
"Wow, do I look that bad?" Nick tried again, hoping to encourage Monroe, but his attempt at levity fell flat.
Monroe shook his head slightly at his words. "Dude, have you seen yourself?" he replied hollowly, without even the barest hint of a smile.
"No, but from the looks you've all been giving me, I have a pretty good idea," Nick smiled wanly at him as Monroe finally shuffled closer, hesitantly coming to a stop by his bed. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Nick's battered form, his brow furrowing deeply.
"I'd ask how you're feeling, but that seems like a stupid question at this point."
Nick sighed, his face falling as he looked solemnly back up at Monroe. "Not that anyone believes me, but I'm better. Better than I was."
Monroe's face quickly darkened, and he leaned down closer to Nick, his eyes flashing red for a moment. "What, better than when you were bleeding out in front of us in the middle of the church and we were completely helpless to do anything but watch you die?" he growled, his voice full of anger and a bunch of other emotions Nick couldn't quite put his finger on.
He paused uncertainly, completely taken aback at Monroe's reaction. He knew Monroe was upset, worried even, but he'd never seen him quite like this. "Look, Monroe, I'm sorry..."
"Damn right you're sorry!" Monroe bit back, clenching his fists. He took a step away from the bed and began pacing around the room, his whole body tense and coiled tightly like a spring.
"What?" Nick frowned as he watched Monroe pace uneasily in the small space. "What are you..."
"Of all the stupid things you could do, Nick," Monroe cut him off as he turned restless circles around the room again, gesturing wildly with his hands, "jumping in front of a gun? For me? Really?"
"Wait a second, Monroe," Nick furrowed his brows in confusion at his words, "are you mad at me for pushing you out of the way?"
Monroe froze in his tracks, wheeling around to give him a deadly stare from the foot of the bed. "Damn it Nick, that's so not even the point here and you know it!"
Nick shook his head, closing his eyes as he sucked in a deep breath to calm his rapidly fraying nerves, sending shooting pains through his chest. He looked back at Monroe, feeling his own anger rise in response. He was exhausted and hurting and had no idea why Monroe was so angry with him. "All I know is that I saw someone aim a gun at you, and I reacted."
"Yea, well that little stunt almost got you killed," Monroe bit out, resuming his frantic pacing. It was making Nick dizzy just to watch him, and he blinked rapidly to try and refocus his vision as he watched Monroe move around the room.
"Well, I'm sorry," he tried again, trying to keep his voice calm, "but I wasn't about to let you get shot."
"So you got shot instead!" Monroe snapped, glaring at him as he paused again in the far corner of the room. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"That I didn't want you to die!" Nick shot back defensively, unable to curb his own frustration any longer. He instantly regretted the decision the raise his voice as the throbbing increased, gripping his lungs unforgivably, but he refused to back down now.
"And you almost did!" Monroe was furious now, his whole body shaking as he stopped to glower angrily back at Nick. "Tell me, how is that any better?"
Nick opened his mouth to respond but was unable to suppress a groan as the pain suddenly increased even further, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, sucking in air through clenched teeth as he waited for it to subside.
Great, this really isn't helping my case right now.
"Alright, alright, just calm down," Monroe was suddenly at his side again, the anger slowly slipping out of his voice. Nick nodded vaguely, opening his eyes again after a moment to see Monroe looking worriedly down at him, all traces of red now gone from his eyes and his expression softening.
Monroe sighed deeply, running his hands roughly over his face. He composed himself, looking back at Nick with a look of absolute sorrow and guilt.
"Dude, someone was trying to kill me, and you decided to get in the way. You shouldn't even be the one in this bed right now." He paused, shaking his head sadly. His voice was hollow and quiet when he finally spoke again. "Jesus, Nick, you almost died. For a while, I really thought you were going to. We all did."
Nick blinked up at him, sighing as he finally realized what this was really about. "I know, Monroe. I'm sorry about that, I really am." He stopped to catch his breath as he regarded him seriously. "But I'm not sorry for saving your life."
Monroe just shook his head at him, and he looked as though the guilt was eating him alive. "Just so you know, I am grateful for what you did for me. But," he paused, reaching out hesitantly to place a hand on his shoulder, "in no way did I want you to sacrifice yourself for me. This should have happened to me, not you."
Nick shook his head. "No, Monroe. It shouldn't have happened at all. But this isn't your fault. You didn't do to this to me," he gestured weakly at himself with one hand. "If anything, this whole thing is my fault. I doubt anyone would even be trying to kill you if you weren't friends with me in the first place."
"Now, stop right there," Monroe replied quickly, "I've told you before, I'm not a status quo kind of guy, and I help you out and I'm friends with you because I want to," he sighed, squeezing his shoulder, "so don't you dare try to take the blame for this."
Nick nodded slowly at him. "Ok. But either can you."
"Alright," Monroe agreed reluctantly, looking back at him, "but you took a bullet for me, man. Do you even know what that means?"
"Guess I don't owe you that gift basket anymore?" Nick replied, his lips twitching up slightly at the corners as he waited for Monroe's reaction.
Monroe narrowed his eyes at him, but there was no heat in his voice when he spoke. "I guess not." He paused, looking at Nick gravely. "But I do owe you my life."
Nick just shook his head at him. "We're friends, Monroe. Don't tell me that you wouldn't have done the same for me."
Monroe smiled grimly, nodding his head in agreement. "Not a question. But I really wish it didn't have to come to this."
"Me either," Nick sighed, leaning his head back against the pillows tiredly and closing his eyes. "But, just for the record, I wasn't trying to get shot." He peered one eye back open at Monroe. "I was just trying to make sure that you didn't."
"I know," Monroe replied gratefully, gently squeezing his shoulder again, "thank you." He smirked then, adding, "you and your hero complex. You gotta do something about that. Stubborn Grimm."
"I'll work on it," Nick mumbled in response, smiling back as he let his eyes drift shut.
"You know, I have to say, I didn't think having you be my best man would be such a dangerous job, besides, you know, the whole Grimm-at-a-Wesen-wedding thing." Monroe stopped, clearing his throat hesitantly. "And I don't know if you still want it, but the job is still open."
Nick opened his eyes again at that, meeting Monroe's hesitant gaze. "If you're asking me if I still want to be your best man, than my answer's the same. I'd be honored to."
Monroe finally broke into a real smile. "Are you sure? Apparently it's a risky gig."
"Definitely," Nick smiled ruefully, "but can I suggest that you guys pick a different venue this time?"
Monroe snorted at that. "We already have."
"So you guys already set another date?" Nick raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Not yet, but we're going to," Monroe replied. "I don't want this to be ruined because some homicidal maniacs thought they could invite themselves to our wedding. We want to reschedule it as soon as possible." He looked knowingly at Nick. "Well, as soon as my best man is actually well enough to stand up there with me."
Nick smiled determinedly. "I'll be fine in a few weeks."
Monroe chuckled at him. "Maybe by your definition of 'fine', but not by the rest of ours."
Nick groaned at that. "You guys aren't going to let me do anything, are you?"
"Not a chance, man," Monroe grinned as he patted his shoulder reassuringly. "I doubt you'll even be allowed to lift a paper clip."
"Great," Nick muttered, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.
Monroe cleared his throat, looking at him seriously again. "I'm just really glad you're ok."
"You too," Nick replied earnestly, "and Rosalee. Juliette and Hank told me what happened. Sorry I couldn't be there to help."
"Don't be," Monroe replied quickly, "you've already done enough."
Nick nodded at him, before finally asking, "so, are we good?"
"Yea man, sorry, I may have overreacted a little," Monroe apologized, "but yea, we're good. Just no more heroics, ok?"
"Deal," Nick replied, but they both knew that was a promise he couldn't keep.
Nick paused then, frowning as another thought suddenly dawned on him. He really hated how sluggish the pain medication made him, silently berating himself for not thinking to ask before now, especially with what he had overheard Hank and Monroe discussing earlier.
"Wait, did you guys find out anymore yet on who hired those two to kill you?" he asked, and he didn't miss Monroe's hesitation as he answered.
"Uh, no, not really," he responded, studiously avoiding Nick's intense gaze. "I mean, we're making progress, but don't worry about that right now. Just focus on getting better. We've got it."
"Monroe," Nick regarded him critically, "what aren't you telling me?"
Before Monroe had a chance to respond, Hank, Juliette, and Rosalee returned to the room, and Nick didn't miss Monroe's momentary look of relief of not having to answer him. Whatever it was, he knew he'd have to find out soon, but right now he was too tired between the pain and the medication to pursue it further.
"Everything ok in here?" Rosalee asked as she laid a quick peck on Monroe's cheek. Juliette moved over to stand at Nick's bedside as Hank stopped at the foot of the bed.
"Everything's good," Monroe smiled genuinely at her, as he swung an arm over her shoulder and pulled her against him.
"Yea, it's good," Nick smiled up at them, raising his eyebrows knowingly. "How was the coffee?"
"The coffee?" Hank responded. "It was, uh, great. It was great."
"You're terrible at this," Juliette chuckled, making them all laugh.
"Hey," Hank replied indignantly, "I may be able to pretend a lot of things, but liking hospital coffee isn't one of them." He shuddered in exaggeration. "Yuck."
Juliette leaned down to place a gentle kiss on Nick's lips. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but how are you feeling?"
Nick didn't miss the four expectant gazes trained on him, waiting for his response. He sighed, looking back up at them. "I'm not going to break, you guys. I'm ok."
"Sorry, you're not getting off that easy," Rosalee admonished him gently. "It's ok to admit if you're hurting, Nick. You've been through a lot."
"We all have," Hank sighed, putting a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "What a week."
"I'm sorry for what I put you through," Nick replied quietly, looking at all of them, "but I can't regret what I did. You know I will always do whatever I can to protect you guys."
"How about letting us protect you for a change?" Juliette replied softly, squeezing his hand firmly. "Just remember Nick, as much as you love us, we love you too."
Nick blinked furiously at the sudden wetness behind his eyes, closing them to hide the surge of emotions that unexpectedly overwhelmed him. After a moment, he opened them again, grateful to see the four most important people in his life looking down at him, concern and love evident on their faces. This alone was worth fighting for. This was worth coming back for.
"Exactly. So how about this time, you take it easy and let us help you?" Hank added firmly. "And I do mean easy, Nick. You cut it way too close this time."
"Yea man," Monroe added with a knowing look, "You may not remember everything, but it was pretty tense back there at the church. We thought we lost you there, for a minute."
Nick closed his eyes, thinking of what he had heard and seen, and how close he had almost come to leaving them forever. They had no idea how right they were. He sighed deeply before replying.
"For a minute there, you did."
He opened his eyes again to meet four bewildered faces peering down at him, waiting anxiously for an explanation. Nick squeezed Juliette's fingers tightly again before he spoke.
"Aunt Marie says hi."
TBC