While still half-asleep, odd sounds emanating from the bathroom seeped their way into Nick's dream. They slowly tugged him into consciousness, and then he bolted upright, and ignoring all that pesky advice he'd had about not standing up too fast, he ran down the hall, causing everything therein to seem slightly sideways.
If the reapers didn't get him first, pregnancy would be the death of him, Nick decided.
"Monroe," Nick half-shouted as he knelt down on the bathroom rug as though he were tying non-existent shoes as that was strangely supposed to help stop his head from spinning, "what's wrong?"
He rubbed at his forehead as the shower water abruptly stopped running.
"Nothing," Monroe said, peeking his head out from the shower curtain, looking embarrassed. Nick pressed his eyes closed and pinched at the bridge of his nose for a moment. This crazy, annoying pregnancy dizziness thing had him about ten seconds away from killing Monroe.
"Then why were you making that sound?... It sounded like you were... whimpering?" Nick said, staring at the floor, waiting for the spots in his vision to dissipate.
"I...uh, the...water," Monroe stammered.
"Monroe, just tell me. I can't understand your waffling right now," Nick said.
"I don't think our hot water heater's working," Monroe said quickly, before ducking his head back behind the curtain. "All of the water is cold."
"All of the water's cold? Okay... so we'll call a plumber," Nick said, feeling like that was a very obvious solution, which made him feel as though he was missing something, something major. Then what Monroe still wasn't saying caught up with him, and his heart sank a little. "...Oh! ... Come on, get out of there! We'll get you warmed up."
Monroe didn't move.
"Monroe, staying in there isn't going to help," Nick said, pressing his eyes closed, taking a deep breath, and pulling himself up to standing. He decided he was just going to have to deal for a little while longer for Monroe's sake.
He pulled down a towel, pulled the shower curtain back and wrapped it around Monroe's upper back and shoulders, "Come on."
As Nick's fingers pressed into his back, Monroe slowly climbed over the ledge of the tub and wordlessly let Nick help him dry off before handing him his robe.
Then Nick tried to guide him down to the kitchen, but halfway down the stairs, he had to stop and lean on the garland adorned rail for support, feeling a little like if he kept going, he was going to tumble down them.
"Nick...?" Monroe asked.
"I'm fine. Just, just a little dizzy," Nick said.
"You say that like I'm not supposed to be worried," Monroe said, wrapping his arm around Nick's waist.
"We've been over this. It's normal. It's completely normal. Well, unless I faint, but that hasn't happened," Nick said, leaning into Monroe as they went the rest of the way downstairs.
"Yeah, yet," Monroe said, eying Nick skeptically. Nick didn't argue because the way their lives went, Monroe, unfortunately, probably wasn't wrong. But he really didn't believe that this was the current issue at hand.
"Tea or coffee?" Nick asked, trying to pull away from Monroe as they made their way into the kitchen.
"Coffee, but I'll make it. Sit," Monroe said forcibly, pushing him into a chair despite several protests. "Hey, I'm doing this for me, and... okay, maybe, just a little bit for you. But, still, I'll feel better if you stay right where you are."
Nick watched Monroe carefully as he sagged into the chair, refusing to admit that he almost instantly felt better. Then accepting that Monroe wasn't letting him leave the kitchen table for anything, he decided he'd have to take a different approach to solving Monroe's problems, "Are you okay? Actually, forget that. I know you aren't, so skip ahead to telling me how you are."
Monroe shrugged noncommittally as he dug out fresh coffee grounds; then he eyed the kitchen sink warily and sighed deeply, "Dude, I can't...I can't be afraid of cold water. I just can't."
"And you aren't," Nick said immediately. "Monroe, that was more than a month ago, and this is the first time something like this has happened. Tell me you haven't touched cold water in all that time. I'll be really impressed."
Monroe looked thoughtful as he reached into the cabinets to pull down mugs, "Yeah, I guess that's true. But..."
"But standing in cold water didn't exactly bring up good memories," Nick offered.
"No, and the worst part is, I still don't really know what happened, between that parking lot and the fountain," Monroe said. "I really thought if I gave it some time something would come back to me, but I just remember waking up soaking wet and shivering. I guess it was just the suddenness of the whole situation, really. Like what just happened with the shower; the hot water just stopped. If you hadn't shown up...well the first time...well, I don't know what I would have done."
"Just be glad I did. I know I am. And when I get my hands on this woman, I'll make her tell me what happened. Believe me," Nick said, locking his eyes with Monroe as a promise. He knew he would too.
He was still seething from when he'd found Monroe lolling helplessly against the fountain's statue, looking like a half-drowned rat, surrounded by vulgar messages written in English and German in, mostly reddish brown chalk.
More than a few nerves had been struck when he'd seen one about their pup likely being a runt. He had no idea how she had known, and while he had been too concerned about Monroe in the moment to overthink it, that really worried him.
"Filling in the blanks might help a little," Monroe conceded as he brought the coffee over to the table. "Probably won't fix our hot water heater though."
"Yeah, we should see if Bud can do it or knows someone who can," Nick said.
"Whenever he's here, I'm getting his opinion on Marie, " Monroe said into his coffee, his eyes on the table.
Although Nick was glad for the change in topic, he couldn't resist rolling his eyes. Their stalemate on choosing a name for their daughter had become a daily discussion bordering on argument.
The issue, in a nutshell, was that Nick wanted to name her after his aunt. Understandably, Monroe, who had no attachment to her and had not had any particularly pleasant encounters with her, did not.
Nick had told Monroe he'd be happy to reconsider if he came up with something more suitable. But, unfortunately, Monroe had a bad habit of suggesting names outdated enough to make Nick cringe. Most recently: Maude, Mildred, and Mabel.
They also all seemed to start with M.
Not that Marie didn't, but, honestly, Nick wasn't sure whether or not Monroe was kidding.
"I thought we were keeping other people out of this?" Nick said. He knew that mostly that had meant Rosalee and Hank, but that was really because, aside from Renard, no one else knew. And Nick didn't have any particular inclination to ask the Captain for naming advice as he felt that telling him about the pregnancy itself had been awkward enough.
"Well, I wasn't actually planning on telling Bud you were pregnant," Monroe said. "And I really can't see it coming up casually."
"I'm not entirely convinced it's a secret," Nick said, glancing down at his more obviously protruding stomach. Even though he'd recently taken to wearing Monroe's old sweaters, which usually covered him up pretty thoroughly, it was getting harder, though, fortunately, not yet impossible, to hide. He knew that it was unlikely that anyone would draw a conclusion other than that he'd put on a few extra pounds a little too quickly, but it still made him extremely uncomfortable and self-conscious.
"Well, I think it's safe to say that it is, and one that's safe with me. Well, me and Mabel, that is," Monroe said, gently poking Nick's stomach with his index finger. "Isn't that right Mabel?"
Nick raised his eyes at him before grimacing as Definitely-Not-Mabel began to do something akin to cartwheels in his stomach, "I think she's protesting as much as I am. You really need to find some more current names, man. Or, at least, names that start with another letter of the alphabet. They had those in the 18th century, didn't they?"
Monroe flexed his hand and rested it over Nick's abdomen, as he'd learned from past experience that the pressure and warmth provided Nick some small relief from the brief spell of pain and nausea that the baby's movement caused.
Then, mostly ignoring what Nick had said, he replied,"I still don't see what's wrong with Martha."
"Other than it's outdated, nothing really," Nick said, placing his hand on top of Monroe's for the slight increase in pressure. "But I don't like it. And, we agreed, we both have to like it."
"Well, you haven't really suggested anything other than Marie," Monroe said. "And we both know I'm not happy with it."
"I know. I know," Nick said because he really hadn't. He had suggested Rose because it was a diminutive of Rosalee, but it had been nixed for exactly the same reason. Similar deductions had been made for Julie.
Nick had to admit that while Monroe's ideas were outdated, his lacked creativity.
"We can muse on it together tonight. As long as nothing springs up, I could probably swing leaving early," Nick said.
After making sure that Nick got off to work okay, instead of going about doing his own, Monroe found himself alternating between watching his model train set running and frowning over the book of baby names. He knew if he went back to his clocks, his mind would inevitably drift back to the cold water. Therefore, he'd decided to continue his quest to find the one name that he believed would stand out above all of the others as unequivocally right for their daughter.
While he was fond of older names and the letter M, he'd mostly been offering his suggestions to stall. He figured that this way, when he finally offered something feasible, Nick would be thrown off enough to actually consider it. Otherwise, he felt certain, whether he wanted it or not, he was going to have a daughter named after a Grimm that wasn't Nick. And, quite frankly, that violated more Wesen tradition than even he was comfortable with.
He was giving Laura and Lauren some consideration when there was a knock on the door.
"Bud, I thought you said it would be a few hours," Monroe said as he unlatched the lock and pulled the door open. It was Rosalee. "You're not, Bud."
"No, I'm not, which you would have known if you'd looked," Rosalee said. Her tone implying that someone who had been kidnapped not all that long ago really ought to have realize this. He didn't disagree, but what could he do? The door was already open. "Now, Nick told me he was going to bring my glass casserole dish back two weeks ago, and unless he took it to the precinct with him, I'm betting it's still in your kitchen."
"And you needed to come get it at ten in the morning on a Tuesday?" Monroe asked as he followed her into the kitchen.
Rosalee opened the two cabinets that she knew the dish was likely to be. "When my mom comes into town this weekend, I was going to make her the same lasagna I made you guys."
"Weren't you asking me about a pasta recipe for this occasion less than a week ago?" Monroe said. "Change your mind?"
Monroe watched as she continued rifling through his pots and pans, puzzled. He really didn't mind that Rosalee was there; he simply didn't understand why she was.
Even though the Spice Shop ran on whatever hours Rosalee set, this was about the time she was normally opening up. And, while he'd seen a great variety of things being made in that shop, lasagna had never been one of them.
Therefore, looking for the dish seemed to be some kind of pretext. He found this odd since Rosalee was usually so forthright. Fortunately, this seemed to be bothering her as well. She looked almost relieved at Monroe's suspicion, "No, not really. I thought it was as good an excuse as any, though. Nick told me about the shower."
"And he wanted you to check on me?" Monroe said. Rosalee nodded. "Well, that's sweet of you guys, I guess. But I'm alright, really."
As Rosalee did manage to find her dish, Monroe continued, "Besides, Nick's the one that's been as dizzy as a spinning top more often than not lately."
He hoped this was hyperbole. Nick claimed it wasn't ever that bad, and he powered through reasonably well. However, that didn't stop Monroe from being exasperated that, seemingly, nothing short of complete collapse would convince Nick that it was something he needed to take seriously. Rosalee rested her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure between the two of us and Hank, we can talk some sense into him."
As she did, his cell phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and said, "It's Hank. He's probably calling to tell me to bring smelling salts."
"Oh, my god. Don't tell me he actually fainted," Monroe said, a strong desire to eat his words filling him as Hank explained that he should probably come get a not entirely conscious Nick before an EMT had a chance to check on him.
"Well, he didn't faint so much as get pistol whipped," Hank said. "By Anya, that woman that kidnapped you. We finally managed to track her down, and as you can probably imagine, Nick was livid. Not that I wasn't...but anyway, the guy that gave us information about the first museum heist, Nick managed to get a tip out of... about her possibly attempting another one at a different museum. We went to check it out, and she was there. When Nick saw her, I think he was out for blood, but... well, the short version is she got to him first."
"So she got away?" Monroe asked, a cold knot of dread forming in his chest. He'd tried pushing most of his worries about her coming after either of them to the back of his mind. He'd thought he'd served his purpose already, and he had trusted Nick's Grimm skills to stop her from being a threat to him to begin with. Neither of these rationales made sense to him at the moment.
Rosalee seemed to sense this. She wrapped her arms around Monroe's torso as he kept listening to Hank.
"Oh, no. She didn't see me," Hank said. "We've got her in handcuffs. She's not admitting to the heist or kidnapping you, but she did assault an officer of the law so that's plenty to keep her in holding at the precinct, not that we don't have the evidence. Anyway, unfortunately, since the museum's a crime scene, I can't get out of here, and the guys working with her got into a fight of their own and damn near killed one another, so we had to call the EMTs."
"Okay. I'm on my way," Monroe said.
"I'm coming too," Rosalee said, close enough to the phone that Hank would hear.
Once they were at the museum, it was immediately apparent that they hadn't beat the EMTs there. Monroe wasn't sure what he'd expected from running races with ambulances.
Nevertheless, thinking that finding Nick was still probably still for the best, they headed for the museum entrance. Fortunately, since the museum was roughly surrounded by the Portland PD, Sergeant Wu recognized Monroe - though Monroe had the impression that he thought he was Nick's CI or something of the kind - but, well, whatever got him through the door. Wu didn't recognize Rosalee, though, so, with a contemplative frown, she headed back to the car.
Once inside, Monroe found Nick, Hank, and a terrified looking EMT standing in a small atrium off the museum's main lobby.
Hank was doing his best to help Nick, who didn't seem to be providing much help of his own, to sit back down on the fold out chair sitting next to the wall. Nick seemed to be mumbling something along the lines of, "Won't stop woging."
Monroe glanced back to the EMT, who, despite having backed up as close to the wall as he possibly could, was still trying to go farther. It didn't take much for Monroe to guess he was Wesen - an eisbiber, by the smell of it.
Monroe glanced between him and Nick once more, unsure what an incapacitated, pregnant Grimm was likely to do to a skittish Eisbiber. He decided it was probably best to assuage the poor guy's fears anyway. "You know, I was a little wary myself the first time I met him, but I promise, Nick's not going to hurt you. He's really not that kind of Grimm. And honestly, he could probably do with a little blend of traditional and Wesen medical know-how at the moment."
Although he didn't move away from the wall, the guy relaxed slightly.
"And, really, Nick's friends with another Eisbiber," Monroe offered as further evidence of Nick's goodwill towards the Wesen community. Then his thoughts completely derailed to things that were not currently relevant. "Oh god, I forgot all about Bud coming over. He's probably going to get there before we get back... not that it matters at the moment."
"Wait, Bud Wurstner?" The EMT asked.
"Uh, yeah," Monroe said. "You know him?"
"He lives down the street from me," he said. Then waving his hand towards Nick, "Hey, is ...is he the Grimm that Bud brought to an Eisbiber council meeting? I was working during it, but I heard all about it. But I mean, I guess he would have to be, wouldn't he? How else would you know Bud? Of course, that would mean, you're the Blutbad he's dating."
"Oh geez, don't start backing up against the wall again," Monroe said. "I'm not going to hurt you either. Relax."
"Hey, Monroe, a little help?" Hank said.
Monroe glanced back to see that Hank was still struggling to get Nick back to the chair. It seemed that Nick was trying to help just enough that it was negating everything that Hank was trying to do.
"Hank, no. He'll woge too," Nick said as he covered his eyes with his hand and leaned back against the wall.
"If you close your eyes, you won't be able to see it will you?" Hank asked. Nick gave a disgruntled grunt of affirmation.
"Sorry, Monroe, ever since Paul, your new EMT buddy over there, came over, Nick's been telling me he won't stop woging. Best I can figure is that's it's making him dizzy," Hank said.
Monroe nodded as he contemplated that. Then he helped Hank get Nick, who had his eyes firmly closed sit back on the chair.
As they did, Paul cautiously approached them with his medkit.
"Nick, I guess keep your eyes closed. If it's really okay with you, I'm going to look you over," Paul said, as he started warily and carefully running his fingers over Nick's hairline. When Nick gave him a thumbs up, he pulled out his stethoscope.
"Be prepared for the unexpected," Monroe said quickly. "Grimms have two heartbeats."
"Huh? That's a Grimm myth I've not heard," Paul said, placing the stethoscope to Nick's chest. "It's not true is it?"
"Well, no, but it was worth a shot. It's less weird than the truth," Monroe said.
"He's pregnant, isn't he?" Paul asked, listening to Nick's chest, looking perplexed.
Monroe nodded.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't share," Nick said, wincing. Monroe was getting the impression that Nick didn't really want to talk.
"You know that doctor-patient confidentiality thing? It extends to us lowly EMTs," Paul said, clearly relaxing into doing his job, as he started taking Nick's blood pressure. Hank squeezed Nick's hand as he grimaced against the blood pressure cuff being pumped. Paul, frowned over the blood pressure dial, before turning back to Monroe, "Are there any other medical conditions I should know about?"
"Well, I don't think this counts as a condition, but he's been dizzy really frequently over the past, I want to say, two weeks," Monroe said.
"Hmm," Paul murmured. "Nick, was your partner right before, was my woge making you dizzy?"
Nick gave him another thumbs up.
"Is talking making you dizzy?" Paul asked.
"Everything is," Nick admitted. After this, Paul asked Nick and Monroe about a dozen questions about the dizzy spells he'd been having. Then he called Dr. Lehrer.
Hank, meanwhile, went to find Rosalee so she didn't have to sit in the car in the cold or leave its engine running.
"Okay. Well, the good news is, I think that's going to be a temporary problem. The bad news is there's not much I can do to help in the immediate," Paul said. "Now, if it weren't for the, uh, unusual circumstances, I'd say we should probably take you to the hospital and keep you there overnight because you're kind of worrying me. But since I don't think that's an option..."
Monroe solemnly shook his head.
"...I'm having Dr. Lehrer write two prescriptions for you. One for high strength Tylenol and one for a low dose blood pressure maintenance medication. Our best guess is that the reason you are so dizzy right now is because having a concussion is exacerbating a preexisting problem, which is that you have high blood pressure. It's not unusual for that to happen towards the end of a pregnancy, and hopefully, it will go back to normal after the baby's born. But Dr. Lehrer will talk to you about all of this. I'll get you some Tylenol now, though. Hopefully it'll help."
"Other than that, all I can tell you to do is rest," Paul continued. "And Monroe, it's Monroe, right? Wake him up every couple hours and make sure he can answer a few basic questions."
"I know the drill," Monroe said. "This, sadly, is not his first concussion. Might be the worst, though."
"I'm not arguing with that," Nick said as he placed both his hands over his eyes and forehead and leaned forward.
"And if he can't, call me," Paul said, as he handed Monroe a slip of paper with his cell phone number written on it. "I'm not the only Wesen staff member at the hospital. It might take some doing, but we could work something out."
When Hank and Rosalee reappeared, with their help, Monroe managed to get Nick back to the car. It was no easy task since Nick was wobbly on his feet and didn't want to open his eyes, and none of them thought carrying him was a particularly good idea.
Once there, after some brief discussion of logistics, Rosalee suggested that she get the prescriptions and drive Nick's truck back to their house, while Hank sat in the backseat of the Volkswagen with Nick, since he was the only one currently incapable of making him more dizzy than he already was.
Monroe could not have been more relieved when Nick, who had fallen asleep during the drive, looked at him without flinching when they got back to the house.
He was still unsteady on his feet though, so it worked out to their advantage that Bud got there at about the same time that they did. Monroe, realizing that he didn't really want to be home alone with only a sleeping Nick for company, still showed Bud where the hot water heater was before deciding to work on making some coconut ginger soup.
To his surprise, Hank and Rosalee were both sitting at the kitchen table when he came back upstairs.
"I need to get back to the precinct right now, but I'll stop back when I have all the paperwork taken care of," Hank said. "Rosalee's staying here."
His firm tone didn't leave room for argument.
Once he was out the door, Monroe asked, "Did you tell him about the shower?"
"I didn't need to," Rosalee said. "We both know you're shook up, about Nick, about Anya. We'll stick around as long as you need us to. I'll stay the night if you want."
Monroe found he couldn't articulate, in the moment, how thankfully he was for Hank and Rosalee.