Once they were back at the house, Nick had settled onto the couch with the intent of not moving or thinking about what had just been revealed. He knew he would have to face reality eventually, but he hoped reality could wait at least until he felt like he could walk without leaning against the wall. He had no idea how long altered organs should take to settle completely, but he was really hoping not that long. Besides, at the moment, he prefered to think he had a particularly terrible stomach virus. Unfortunately, his surroundings were not about to comply with this delusion that his life contained normalcy.
He sipped cautiously at his ginger ale as he heard Monroe moving around the kitchen as well as a faint clattering of plastic on tile followed by some light cursing. They had been home for approximately forty-five minutes, and in that time, Monroe had been between the kitchen and his workbench at least twelve times. It seemed he couldn't decide between finishing his commision on a decorative mahogany clock or making dinner. Considering Nick had heard the refrigerator door open no less than eight times, he didn't think Monroe even had a plan for what to make. The earlier sound of at least a dozen small parts rolling across the table suggested that the clock work wasn't going any better.
"Monroe? Do you want some help?" Nick asked, even though he almost entirely expected the answer to be no . "I can sit at the kitchen table and offer you some unwanted advice?" Then thinking that maybe he could do something slightly useful, "Or mix things."
"What?" Monroe said, implying he hadn't heard, as the sound of another, or perhaps the same, plastic container falling followed. Then when what Nick had said caught up with him, Nick felt like he could hear Monroe rolling his eyes. "Oh, no. That's, you know, thoughtful of you. But you stay on the couch. Besides, the last time you mixed things , we had unleavened cookies."
"I swear there was flour in those," Nick muttered, mostly to himself because he'd long since given up on convincing Monroe. Then he leaned deeper into the cushions and turned the TV on. Almost immediately, he wished he hadn't.
"The Discovery channel? Really, Monroe?" Nick muttered, bemused. Then he realized that what was currently on the Discovery channel was a documentary about seahorse gestation. Though he was trying desperately not to listen, he heard the narrator saying that the females laid their eggs in the male's brood pouch before he managed to change the channel. He looked down at his own stomach suspiciously, as if he expected there to be a pouch, but the only external evidence that anything was amiss were a few small bruises that he couldn't even see through his t-shirt.
He looked back up at the screen and cringed. He had found a medical drama wherein the doctors were rushing a pregnant woman into the E.R to do an emergency C- Section. Then thinking it would be a safer bet, Nick flipped through the local news channels. In sequence, there were stories about the birth of multiples, the murder of a pregnant woman, and a prenatal vitamin that had a new formula. With a frustrated sigh, Nick looked down at the remote and pressed down mute followed by the digits for the classic movies channel. He only had it memorized because Monroe wanted to watch it so often, or, at least, that's what he told himself. Once he was satisfied that the movie was sufficiently in black and white, and sadly did not seem to fit in the film noir genre- that he definitely knew nothing about- he devoted himself to finding something both worth watching and totally unrelated to pregnancy.
Nick was so invested in the channel guide, he didn't hear Monroe shuffling towards the couch.
"I wouldn't watch that right now, if I were you. You'd probably have nightmares for a week," Monroe commented, his eyes frozen on the screen, as he sat down next to him and set a plate of toast and a bowl of rice on the coffee table.
"Huh?" Nick said, so fully absorbed in his quest that he'd neglected to look at the title of what was on.
"Uh, you know you're watching Rosemary's Baby , right?" Monroe asked as he took the remote from Nick's lax hand and hit the power button. "Unfortunate woman carrying the child of Satan and all that?"
"Okay. Our TV is cursed," Nick mumbled as he turned over to push his forehead into the armrest. "Every single thing that is on right now is about babies."
Monroe gave a small huff of a laugh as he reached his arms out to pull Nick upright. "Well, you know, if we talk, you don't have to watch it. And we really do need to palaver."
Nick sighed deeply as he stared down at the table. Do we have to ? was on the tip of his tongue, but it sounded petulant, even in his head, and he knew Monroe was right. Resigning himself to the fact that this was necessary, he moved so that he was sitting against the corner of the couch and then rested his legs on Monroe's knees. "Where do we even start?"
"Well, uh, I'm sure you have questions. And, well, I'm actually, you know, flat out offering to be your encyclopedia right now. Take advantage," Monroe said between a few spoonfuls of rice. "Rosalee and I did a lot of research while you were out. And you were out for awhile..."
Nick nodded and picked at a piece of toast as he tried to decide what was most pertinent to know. Unfortunately, most of the first questions that came to mind where rhetorical. And he sincerely doubted Monroe had a better grasp on why this was his life than he did. Ultimately, he just stared blankly at his food.
"Okay, uh, eat your toast, and I'll just, you know, start spewing information at you. And this is all really awkward...so, I'm just ... so...uh, the snake venom is what makes this all possible when it, you know, shouldn't be. After it changes your internal sex organs, it holds them in place like some kind of acidic glue. Rosalee and I, we sort of got the impression that there was some kind of ancient tribe that worshipped uteruses and therefore breeded the snakes to do this. No idea how. There were all kinds of serpentine and fertility imagery in their art though. They seemed to have been, uh, some kind of ancient cult dedicated to Hera or Tiresias. Maybe both."
"Monroe, as fascinating as that is..." Nick said as he nibbled hesitantly at his toast and briefly wondered who Tiresias was.
"I'm getting off track, right. I'll brush you up on Greek mythology later," Monroe said. Then he continued explaining with his eyes pressed closed; Nick wasn't sure if he was trying to remember everything he had read or if he just couldn't say words like 'uterus' and 'fetus' while looking directly at Nick, "Ok, so most importantly, the venom holds the uterus in place and helps provide nutrients to the fetus. That's important because the additional nutrients shorten the gestation period from nine to seven months."
Then he shrugged and set his bowl of rice back on the coffee table, slightly jarring Nick's legs, "Those tribal men were only so interested in uterus worship. Couldn't even handle having one for the length of a normal pregnancy."
Nick raised his eyes as he held his toast halfway to his mouth. He didn't say anything, just waited for Monroe's mind to catch up with his mouth.
"Well, that's what Rosalee was saying, anyway," Monroe said, in an apparent attempt to backpedal, as he gave Nick an apologetic look and began drumming his fingers on the couch.
Once Nick fully processed everything Monroe had said, he asked,"If it grows at an accelerated rate, is it still, going to be, I don't know, normal?"
"The text was a little, uh, patchy about that," Monroe said, casting his eyes on the floor.
"So, there's a chance that I have to go through this, and we wouldn't even..." Nick couldn't bring himself to finish this thought. He knew that he and Monroe wanted children; they had talked about it a few times. And he had decided that that would have to be his light at the end of the tunnel. He and Monroe would have a child that was biologically both of theirs. After all, his mind rationed cynically, there weren't other men around that had that. But, if that wasn't the end result, then this was far too much for Nick to handle.
"And we wouldn't have a kid at the end, uh, yeah," Monroe said as he gave Nick a weary, apologetic look. "But, Nick, Rosalee and I looked into it, and there seemed to be ways for you to, uh, not, uh, go through with it... but they seemed kind of risky."
Nick was caught totally off guard by that; it hadn't really occurred to him that he had a choice in the matter.
"Nick, nothing about this is, you know, normal," Monroe said then looked Nick in the eyes. "And no one, least of all me, is going to question what you do. Though I have to be honest with you, I'm going to be worried about you, no matter what."
"I...I think I need to know more about all of this," Nick said as he moved so that he could lean into Monroe's side. Monroe wrapped his arm around his back as he nestled his head on Monroe's collarbone.
They were both quiet for a few awhile before Nick asked,"Do you want to have a kid like this?"
"I do, if you do," Monroe replied as he brushed Nick's bangs back from his forehead. "I know it wasn't exactly in either our day planners, but I'd be okay with that."
Nick gave a short laugh as he closed his eyes, "I'm not sure want is really the right word. Absolutely nothing is going to make this normal."
"Probably not, no," Monroe said as he leaned down to kiss Nick's forehead. "I'm sorry."
Nick stilled against the kiss, finding his stomach to be in a whole different kind of knots than before. He was torn between letting his imagination paint a picture of their future and letting his mind address his many fears about the next seven months.
First, he and Monroe would take turns holding a tiny, wriggly infant as they shared warm, affectionate smiles until they finally, reluctantly placed the child in its crib, in the spare room that had finally been cleaned out.
Of course, he would have to tell Hank. He could almost hear his reactions, disbelief followed by light mocking and finally sincere empathy, or vice versa, and he half dreaded it.
Then Monroe would be showing a toddler his clocks and trains with unbridled enthusiasm while he offered up a shiny toy police badge. Then he would be reading reading Little Red Riding Hood aloud as Monroe walked into the child's bedroom, looked on with abject horror, and walked back out. This he almost looked forward to.
But to get there, he would have morning sickness, which could not possibly compare to today but could still hardly be pleasant. And it was just not a thing he should have. And with this, he realized he would have to find a doctor that would take him as a patient but would not expose him as some kind of science experiment.
It wasn't like he could just tell someone, and they'd believe him. He felt a little like someone had told him told him he was a Grimm all over again. And this seemed about as fair. He supposed that at least this time, he had Monroe and Rosalee from the get go. That made him feel a little better.
But he didn't even know what he would be able to do about work. Or being a Grimm. It wasn't exactly as though criminals or the reapers would take a vacation because he happened to be pregnant.
This thought alone made it suddenly difficult to breathe. He led a dangerous, often reckless life. It scared the hell out of Monroe as it was. This was not even remotely going to help. He tried not to think about the well treaded path across their bedroom carpet where Monroe swore he didn't pace when he didn't come home even though he knew better. Was this going to be the right thing?
"Monroe, I don't know what to do," Nick said as he slumped entirely into Monroe's lap and looked up to his warm brown eyes for answers they didn't hold. Monroe reached for his hand and slowly twined their fingers together.
"That's okay. You don't have to know right now," Monroe whispered as he brushed a tear away from Nick's cheek. He hadn't even realized he was crying.
Then Monroe pressed their hands against his chest. Nick cocked his eyes upwards, questioningly, and Monroe's eyes locked with his, a mix of sympathy and confusion. He knew then that the gesture had been subconscious. But somehow that was what it took. His eyes guided Monroe's eyes to where their hands now rested then he whispered, "That's our family."
Monroe's hand still rested on Nick's abdomen a couple hours later. Nick had fallen asleep on top of him, and he hadn't had the heart to wake him up because he knew Nick's day had been physically and emotionally draining. His emotions had been all over the charts as well, but he wasn't a man that was now carrying a child in a womb that shouldn't exist, so he figured he had no right to complain. Granted, it hadn't stopped him.
With his free hand, he continued his long back and forth texting with Rosalee. He wanted to know now if he should let Nick go with what was obviously an emotionally charged decision. It was, if truth be told, what he wanted. First because he wanted children with Nick, and if they were biologically theirs, that was kind of cool, if incredibly, indescribably weird. Second, he wasn't kidding when he said Nick not going through with it could be risky. He was almost afraid to tell Nick what could happen - though it mostly involved different organs being changed more permanently in a sort of life altering way. And, in rare, but not non-existent cases, the men had died. And, well, losing Nick was a nightmare Monroe couldn't even begin to articulate - even though it threatened to become reality often enough.
"How do we get into these situations?" Monroe whispered into Nick's hair, which still smelled vaguely like the mango and coconut shampoo he and Rosalee had washed it with earlier. "We just can't ever do anything normally, can we? I mean, the first time we kissed, we were in a graveyard...so I suppose not."
Nick stirred slightly in his sleep, and Monroe worried that he'd woken him up. But he just burrowed deeper into Monroe's side.
Well, if talking wasn't going to wake him up...
"I thought Nick was asleep?" Rosalee answered.
"And hi to you too," Monroe said as he glanced down at Nick again, still slightly worried. "He is asleep, and he's, uh, on top of me. But I need to talk to you. And it's not really, uh, a text conversation."
Rosalee really couldn't argue with that," Monroe, just ask him again if it's what he wants when he's in a less vulnerable place. Though you'll have to tell him everything if he wants to think about it more. But if he's sure, he's sure. Don't push the issue. Either way, I'm going to give you the name of my doctor. If you take Nick there, she won't ask too many questions, at least not irrelevant ones. You'll have to tell her about the snake venom, though."
"Right, right, that you can text to me. And I'll, uh, you know, tell Nick about her. Tomorrow, maybe?" Monroe said, hoping Rosalee would offer him some advice because he was completely lost. While he was trying his best to be there for Nick, he felt a little like he was floundering. Normal relationship problems weren't really his thing, and this was so far into left field, he wasn't sure they were on the field anymore.
"Tomorrow," Rosalee agreed. "And I'm going to come over tomorrow too. I found another book on the cult. It looks like it continued even after the decline of the Greek empire, though its continuation was, at best, sporadic. There's a few diary pages from one of the pregnant men in here, though."
"I would love to see that. Nick, maybe not so much," Monroe said, glancing down. He wondered if such a thing would be better left alone or shared. It might, after all, provide some distant sort of commiseration for Nick. Or just prove that these men had been the complete lunatics that he suspected they were. "Hey, what language is it in?"
"It's in English. It might be a translation though. I'll see what I can find out. Also, I think I found the substance you guys inhaled. Tell Nick I'm not sure it really fits with what the hexenbiest has been doing. It's usually just used to heighten libido and lower inhibitions," Rosalee said as Monroe heard the rustling of stiff, older paper.
"It's a really weird coincidence that it was there, and that that snake was in that fountain," Monroe said, measuring his words, half guessing Rosalee's next words.
"Maybe it wasn't. You and Nick are both going to have to tell me more of what happened. But it almost seems like there's some kind of hold out of this ancient cult in Portland," Rosalee said.
"That's...odd. Well, we'll all look into it, the three of us..." Monroe said, clipping his words short as Nick stirred beneath him. Nick groaned slightly and looked up blearily at Monroe.
"'s That Rosalee?" He asked as he rubbed at his eyes. When Monroe nodded, Nick reached up and simply took the phone from him, set it on the armrest, and put it on speaker. Apparently nothing stopped Nick from being his ever-presumptuous self.
Monroe thought about taking the phone back, but instead just gave him a look of exasperation. Then he waited for Nick to rehash the conversation that he and Rosalee had already had. But Nick's first question was unexpected.
"Have Grimms and Wesen ever had children together before? That either of you know of?" He asked, glancing from the phone to Monroe.
There was a distant sound of a stack of books falling over. And for a moment, Monroe was too flabbergasted to speak and just mouthed wordlessly at Nick. Then, he asked, "Okay... how did you come up with that while you were sleeping?"
"Dream?" Nick offered. Monroe gave him a hardened stare because that was not really a full answer, not that it mattered, per se. It was still a valid question. "Well, we were looking in a mirror, and we were sort of each others' reflection. It was... disconcerting. And I want to know, is that what would happen? Would it be a Grimm and a Blutbad?"
"It is unprecedented, as far as I know," Rosalee offered, with the sound of books being reassembled following.
"Oh, this is too much," Monroe muttered as he rubbed his hand down his cheek. He'd really been too worried about Nick to fully consider their future child. "Nick, the answer is I have no idea."
"You two had all day to come up with this possibility and neither of you did?" Nick asked, laughing darkly and shaking his head. "Oh well. It's just another addition to the list of things I never planned on thinking about."
"Okay, you're getting cynical," Monroe said as he gave Nick a once over. Even though he'd spent a good portion of the day sleeping, he looked like he hadn't slept. And he just looked miserable. "Are you okay?"
Nick just shook his head for a moment, "No. No, I'm not. But there's not anything you can do about it. I'll be okay." He hesitated for a moment, then asked, "I know I brought it up, but can we just stop talking about all of this for awhile?"
"Nick...Monroe..." Rosalee said as the two of them glanced back at the phone; they'd half forgotten they were talking to her too. "I'm going to let the two of you go because it sounds like you need to be together alone right now. But I want you to know I'm here for you guys if you need anything."
"Thanks, Rosalee. We'll talk to you later," Nick said as he pressed the end call button and looked back to Monroe.
"Okay, Nick. We have six dozen things to talk about, but right now we're going upstairs, and you're going to keep reading that trashy werewolf detective novel that you think I don't know you're reading, and I'm going to keep reading War and Peace . Come on."
"I still don't understand why you're reading that," Nick said as Monroe started dragging him towards the stairs.