"Monroe, are you with me?" It sounded like Nick. He even thought it might be Nick, but he was having trouble getting his eyes to open, let alone focus on what was in front of him. "I've almost got you untied...there."
He felt something loosen around his torso, and he dipped forward slightly, forcing him to take account of his current situation. His head throbbed, his whole body was stiff and ached, and it felt like he was submerged from the waist down in ice cold water, which didn't really make any sense. Why would he be sitting in water...with his clothes on? He tried to nod as he heard what sounded like a splash beside him. He winced slightly as warm hands settled against his shoulder then, recognizing that they were indeed Nick's, tried to relax against them, "Monroe, we have to get you out of the water or you're going to freeze. Can you help?"
Monroe wasn't sure what he could do because he still wasn't one hundred percent on what was going on. He knew he'd gotten into some strange painful kind of mess, but he couldn't quite remember the specifics of how, though a parking lot and a red haired woman seemed to be involved. His thoughts were hazy, and though he'd gathered the shallow, freezing water bit, he wasn't really sure where he was or how badly he was hurt. Nevertheless, Nick sounded desperate, which led him to believe it looked bad, so trying not to panic, he attempted to reach forward to pull himself towards Nick. Unfortunately, his efforts were rewarded only by a sharp pain shooting across his right arm as it made contact with something very solid. He let out a short yelp and drew his arm back to his chest.
"Okay, Monroe. Don't try to move. Hank and I are going to lift you out," Nick said. "We'll try not to move your arm."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Hank asked. His voice sounded staticy and distant, but that couldn't be right because he was talking to Nick, and Nick was right there.
"Either we risk doing more damage to his arm or we higher the risk of him getting hypothermia. Personally, I'd prefer he had a broken arm," Nick said.
"Let me clarify. Are you sure it's a good idea for you to be lifting him?" Hank asked. "...in your condition?"
"I don't really give a damn," Nick said. Then, in a tone that brooked no argument, "Now we're wasting time. On the count of three."
The next thing Monroe knew, two sets of hands were pulling him up and over the ledge of whatever he had hit his arm on, attempting, though not quite succeeding, to not jostle it. He moaned as they leaned him up against the ledge they had lifted him over. Wind lapped against him, all of the air suddenly seeming far too cool. He shivered violently against it, his teeth chattering.
Fortunately, because it was helping him stay conscious, if unfocused, which seemed important, he could still hear Hank and Nick talking.
"Nick, don't do that. I'll give him mine," Hank said. Monroe had no idea what they were talking about until he was being pushed forward and his uninjured arm was being pulled through what he imagined was Hank's jacket. Hank let his other arm remain limp at his side while he folded the jacket over his shoulder.
"Thanks," He whispered, or at least tried. It came out, more or less, as a soft hiss.
"Good. Stay with us, Monroe," Nick said, his arm wrapping around him and rubbing at his shoulder above his injured arm, which would have been comparatively pleasant had Nick's arm not been shaking. Hank stayed on his other side and started to lean in towards him as well. They stayed like that, providing him a small, completely inadequate but thoroughly appreciated canopy of warmth, for what felt like eons, with Hank and Nick's voices, wavering between sounding concerned and sounding angry, repeatedly fading in and out.
Eventually, their voices faded entirely, and he knew no more.
Blinking blearily and shivering slightly, Monroe took in the odd but distinct smell of hospital. He cringed inwardly as he glanced at the beige walls and medical equipment.
"You're awake!" Rosalee exclaimed, smiling broadly as she walked in from the hallway, holding a cup of coffee. She rushed across the room and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. "How do you feel?"
"Oh, you know, dandy," Monroe murmured, giving her a wan smile. Then, slowly shaking his head, "Probably be better if I could remember what in the blazes happened, aside from being drenched and freezing . Which I kind of still am... but last I remember before that, I had just talked to Nick...I was on my way to meet him...somewhere. Oh man, I was going to meet him at the doctor's. Where is he? Is he okay?"
"Only you would still be more worried about him," Rosalee said with a short laugh. "Relax. As long as you don't consider him leaving here hell bent on finding and doing who knows what to the hexenbiest that did this to you a problem, I'd say he's fine."
"Hexenbiest, really? Oh my god, do all of these hexenbiests just lurk around everyone that Nick's involved with so they can, you know, screw with him?" Monroe asked. Then, rolling his eyes at himself as he leaned back into the pillow, "Yeah, I suppose that's kinda the point. I suppose that's what I get for getting in bed with a Grimm, literally and figuratively,... so, uh, how did he and Hank find me, anyway?"
"Well, the point wasn't really for you to be hidden," Rosalee said, her expression darkening. "You remember that fountain I had to come get you and Nick out of?"
"Being there only mildly rearranged my life, so, you know, vividly," Monroe said, giving Rosalee a questioning what of it stare.
"She tied you to the snake statue in there, and somehow she broke your arm when she was tying them back. Then there was chalk and spray paint graffiti all around it commenting on your relationship with Nick," Rosalee said.
"And I'm guessing it didn't say anything about us setting a great example for other unlikely pairings?" Monroe asked. Then as Rosalee's lips stiffened, he added, "Yeah, I didn't think so. Well, I suppose I'm just lucky no one's quite managed the whole actual killing of the messenger bit..."
There was a silent yet flitting uncomfortably across their expressions, but neither of them wanted to address it. They wanted Nick to be in their lives, and there was nothing they could do to change what he was or how other prejudiced wesen viewed their relationships with him. It was what it was.
As if on some very unfortunate cue, Nick appeared at the door, his face lighting up as he noticed that Monroe was awake. He gave Rosalee a short wave as he strode purposefully across the room before cupping Monroe's head in one hand and leaning down to give him a long, thoughtful kiss. Monroe relished the moment but was slightly embarrassed that Rosalee was still there. As was she, apparently, "Not to interrupt...but, any luck?" she asked.
Nick turned around and huffed, looking distinctly uncomfortable, "Well, who she is isn't a mystery anymore. We traced the phone she was using to trace Monroe's, and it led us back to Adalind's. Oh, Monroe, here's your now completely debugged phone back. Try to be more careful where you leave it."
"Adalind? Again?" Monroe asked, taking the phone that Nick had pulled out of his jeans' pocket from him. He decided he'd worry more about what had happened with it later, "Are we ever going to get her out of our hair? I thought you told me you thought this had nothing to do with her?"
"It doesn't, exactly. At least, It wasn't Adalind. It's someone that's related to her," Nick said. "My lead on her apparently came from Adalind..."
"How does that not involve Adalind?" Rosalee asked, frowning.
"I think Adalind just wants me to catch her because of some kind of ...sibling rivalry," Nick said, twitching his lips in slight amusement. "I really don't think Adalind has any reason to manipulate me anymore since the whole mess with the key and the captain is behind us. That's not to say I trust her. Believe me, I don't. But it doesn't really matter because I know that Anya, that's the sister, was the one behind the museum and ...this..."
Nick swallowed hard before he swept his hand over Monroe, looking deeply apologetic.
"So I take it you'll forgive me for standing you up at Dr. Lehrer's, huh?" Monroe asked, in a strained attempt to get that dark look off Nick's face. Nick relaxed slightly and nodded. Then a brief flicker of something uncharacteristically unreadable crossed his expression, so Monroe pressed, "Something I need to know?"
"Yes... but not at the moment," Nick said, looking thoughtful. Monroe sighed and shook his head, wondering what now . Nick watched him and smiled softly as he trailed his thumb down his cheek and through his beard. "It's a good thing. But I think it'll be better if I tell you at home."
"Oh? When precisely do I get to, you know, go there?" Monroe asked, trying not to get too hopeful about leaving because he knew Nick and Rosalee wouldn't just let him. However, he reflected briefly that while he ached everywhere, he didn't think it was anything he was unable to take care of himself. Then, more importantly, there was a better than decent chance that he would be significantly warmer in his own bed than he currently was.
"Well, there's a good way to find that out," Nick said before pressing the nurse call button, grinning at him. Then with a little more gravity and a devilish grin, he said, "Now, Monroe, I want you to come home, but please don't rush it... tell them the truth about how you feel."
"Giving me some of my own medicine, huh?" Monroe asked, slightly annoyed by the oh- how-the-tables-have-turned look in Nick's eyes, but glad that at least Nick was listening - and was willing to tease him.
"Yeah, what's that like?" Nick asked smirking, still looking like he was enjoying this entirely too much.
"Let's just say it's lucky for you that I can't move my arm without ripping an IV out of it," Monroe said.
"If it helps, and it should, it's really good advice," Nick said as he leaned over to tousle his curls. "It's really hard to be taken care of when other people don't know the extent of what's wrong."
"Do you need anything else?" Nick asked as he pulled back the covers on his side of the bed. He'd drove Monroe home from the hospital and gotten him settled in bed, and now despite it only being four in the afternoon, he was completely exhausted.
He'd spent the past two days running himself ragged alternating between worrying about Monroe and actively trying to find the woman that had done this to him.
He sighed as he looked at the sling on Monroe's arm and cringed. Yet again, Monroe had been used like a pawn in some complicated chess game he wanted no part of but apparently couldn't stop playing. He tried not to let that unravel him too much because there was nothing for it, and he knew it.
"I think if you got me anything else, I wouldn't be able to get off the bed," Monroe mumbled as he pulled himself up from underneath three layers of blankets and propped himself against the enormous stack of pillows before picking up the tea and painkiller Nick had set on the nightstand. "However, you could tell me what you needed to tell me."
Nick smiled and reached for the drawer of his own nightstand and pulled out a small yellow envelope. Then he handed it to Monroe as he sat down next to him. "Open it."
"You went to the doctor...and she gave you an envelope ?" Monroe asked, raising his eyebrows, as he worked on unsealing it with his free hand. It was slow going, but he batted Nick's hand away when he offered to do it for him.
"Well, I asked her to. Well, when you didn't show up..." Nick trailed off. He didn't want to tell Monroe how much he wished he had been there for this; it wouldn't be fair to do that to him. Besides, they were still going to do this together, and that was what really mattered. "I didn't want to find out on my own."
"Find out wh...?" Monroe started to ask, but he stopped short as he pulled a little pink paper cut-out of an infant out of the envelope. He smiled broadly, "A girl. We're having a girl."
"A girl," Nick repeated, a warm fuzzy feeling spreading through him as he crawled into bed next to Monroe and curled up next to him. He was pleased beyond all measure - Monroe was home and there, and they were going to have a daughter. It was what he'd been hoping for, in the sort of grand scheme of things - perhaps not like this, perhaps not like this at all. But with the way his life was, he would take it and be as glad as he could for it. "What about that, huh?"
"A girl," Monroe repeated. He rolled carefully onto his side, moving blankets and pillows out of the way, before pulling Nick in for a celebratory kiss. "Yeah, how about that?"
Then Monroe pulled Nick's T-Shirt up and pressed a gentle, hesitant kiss to his abdomen before looking up at Nick's eyes, asking if this was okay. Nick's cheeks flushed slightly; it wasn't as though Monroe hadn't touched him there over the past three and a half months or anything, it just hadn't been like this - this delicate and tender.
They had some sort of unspoken agreement that, yes, there was something growing inside of him. Something that would one day, hopefully, provide them with joy. But until then, it was kind of awkward and just not something that they needed to address when they were in the midst of roughly ripping the buttons from the other's clothing. But this made it so much more real that he knew they couldn't do that anymore.
Nick nodded and then sighed contentedly as Monroe kneeled over him, hugging his injured arm closer to his chest, and continued to press soft kisses all the way down the now slightly protruding paunch of his belly, lightly tracing his index finger behind his lips. Usually Monroe's hands were fast and rough against his skin, and Nick could feel the callouses built up from long hours of fiddling with clocks. This, however, was slow and sensual, and had a barely-there feeling that made his breath catch strangely.
"Monroe...you shouldn't do this...you're going to hurt yourself," Nick breathed out reluctantly. Monroe looked up and winked at him, as though that would make it less true, before starting to try to untie the drawstring on his sweatpants. But after a few unsuccessful attempts and a hiss of pain when his arm bumped against Nick's knee, Nick rolled his eyes, and pushed him back as he sat up. "Okay, that settles it, you're not doing this right now. Lie back down..."
The next morning, Nick gently shook Monroe awake, trying not to recoil in surprise when Monroe's face morphed slightly. He reflected briefly that that was only a natural instinct after getting knocked out while walking to your car and subsequently tied to a fountain. He probably should have expected it.
As he offered Monroe his medicine and the coffee he had made for him, he pursed his lips for a moment then asked, "So...on a scale of 1 to 10, how likely is it that someone will try to get to our daughter to get to us?"
"11," Monroe said without any hesitation. "Please tell me that this isn't the first time this occurred to you. If it is, I think we might kind of have a problem."
"I really haven't wanted to think about," Nick admitted, shifting his weight uncomfortably.
"But this happened, and now you can't help it. Right. Glad I'm your first lesson in parenting. Well, anyway, I've, uh, put some serious thought into it," Monroe said. "Now, like anyone, we can't protect her from everything. But as to us specific stuff, we'll have to do our best to make sure someone we trust is always watching her, especially when something particularly unto is going on - so far, there's us, Rosalee, and Hank, then Bud, if we're desperate, they all fit the bill, then Juliette if we're really, really desperate, since, she's, you know, still not totally on board with the whole Wesen existing thing. We probably want to increase that list. It's also probably for the best we don't take her into the trailer for a good long while though that's not really because I'm worried someone will take her from it."
"So your well thought out plan to protect our daughter is that she always has a babysitter?" Nick asked, giving Monroe a sideways glance. "Great."
"It sounds trivial when you put it like that, but really, it's the best thing we can do," Monroe said. "Then, when she's older, we'll just have to, you know, instill a general distrust of strangers...and your mother...in her."
"Well, as to the strangers, that I can handle that. When I was in uniform, I used to talk to groups of younger kids giving them the whole stay away from strangers spiel," Nick said. Then shaking his head, "I'm not sure I find this comforting."
"You probably shouldn't. We don't exactly have the best situation for this, but we're going to do our best," Monroe said. "And, Nick, if you're doubting that we can, you know, do this because of who you are, remember that you're not the first Grimm to have children. You wouldn't be here if you were."
"I suppose Aunt Marie didn't do too horribly with me," Nick said, thinking it over. Even before he had started living with his Aunt Marie, he had to have been raised in equally dangerous circumstances, and though retrospectively it seemed obvious, his parents' ill explained car crash sticking out like a glaring red light, he never would have guessed it then. And he'd never felt like he personally was in danger, and, honestly, despite everything, he was still here.
"Well, aside from the whole not telling you important things about your heritage bit, yeah not too shabby," Monroe said. "And that worked out pretty well for me in the end, so I can't really complain."
Nick smiled and kissed him, "Now, do you need anything before I head out? Keeping in mind that I really think you should stay in bed, and that Rosalee's going to come check on you in a couple hours."
Monroe asked him to get a bag of books that he had put on the floor of their closet out, so Nick brought it out and set it down on his side of the bed before pulling out the contents. He laughed warmly; they were all parenting books.
"I didn't want to push them on you," Monroe said, looking sheepish. "I didn't think you were ready. There's one in particular I wanted to look at right now though."
"Oh. Which one?" Nick asked.
Monroe methodically spread the books apart -or, at least, it would have been methodical had he been using both hands - before triumphantly holding up a book of baby names.
"Yeah, okay. We'll talk later," Nick said as he headed back down the stairs, laughing as Monroe shouted after him for him to take his own medicine and to be careful driving in the snow. Even when he was taking care of Monroe, Monroe was still taking care of him.