In which Sean makes some bad puns, and sober thoughts become drunken words.

Nick and Sean said goodnight to Bud and Hank and made their way to their room, still laughing. They got changed in the separate bathrooms and literally fell into their separate beds. After a few minutes, Sean started snickering in the darkness.

"What?" Nick asked.

"I'm trying to come up with a new chemistry pun, but all the good ones Argon!" Nick snorted.

"You're crazy, man!"

"When I'm drunk, I tend to tell chemistry jokes. I'm really in my element!"

"You do this a lot?" Nick questioned. His face was starting to hurt from smiling.

"Yeah, I do it... periodically!" Nick laughed. Sean was actually a more interesting guy than he thought.

"What do you do with a dead chemist?"

"I dunno, what?"

"You Barium!" Sean started giggling while Nick processed the pun. Nick eventually got it, and started laughing uproariously.

"Oh my GOD, we have to tell Monroe that one! Let's go tell him!"

Nick and Sean crept through the suite giggling, making their way to the master bedroom. They knocked on the closed door.

"Yo," Monroe called, and they went in. Monroe was sitting in bed, playing with his phone. He looked up at the Grimm and the Royal, both grinning like idiots.

"What? You wanna prank Bud and Hank or something?" Sean's eyes went wide.

"Oh my Goooooooood! We should!" he slurred. Monroe snorted and waited. They were still standing with crazy smiles... it was getting to be disconcerting.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" he prodded.

"Oh, yeah!" Nick remembered why they were there. "Sean told a chemistry joke... what do you do with a dead chemist?" Monroe looked from Nick to Sean and seemed a little confused.

"Umm... what?"

"You BARIUM!" they shouted together before collapsing on the foot of Monroe's bed in a fit of giggles. Monroe smiled.

"Wow, and Rosalee thinks mine are bad..." Nick crawled up the bed toward him.

"Monrooooooooooe... I'm Rosaleeeeeeeeeeeeee... gimme kisses, my big Blutbad... let's make another sex taaaaaaaaape... in a sleeeeeeeeeeeeeping bag..." Monroe gently pushed on Nick's forehead, preventing his forward motion.

"Nick, you are drunk off your ass. Now go the fuck to bed before I knock you out myself and give you a black eye you're gonna have to explain to Juliette..." Nick gave up on trying to get closer to Monroe and started hugging his legs instead.

"It doesn't work like that anymore." Monroe cocked his head.

"What do you mean, 'it doesn't work like that anymore'?" Nick found Monroe's kneecap strangely comfortable.

"I don't bruise anymore. Like, if I get a cut, you can see it, but Juliette hits me and I don't bruise." The words hit Monroe like a truck. He put his phone down and sat up a little straighter.

"Dude, she hits you?" Nick nodded. The blanket felt really nice against his cheek.

"Yeah. Sometimes she just smacks me, but sometimes she hits me with stuff. This one time, she broke a plate on my face." Monroe felt panic rising.

"Nick? You're too drunk to be making shit up, right? Because that's really... this is really serious..." Nick rolled over on his back.

"I don't like her anymore. She got sooooooooooooo mean after the zombie thing... but I can't leave her because she controls my life! My finances, my e-mail, fucking EVERYTHING!"

"Umm, Sean, are you hearing this shit? Sean?" Monroe nudged Sean with his foot, but the Captain was asleep, dead to the world. Fuck.

"Nick, buddy, you've got to get out of there. What if she seriously hurts you?" Nick started sobbing.

"But I OWE her! I kept my secret too long, she deserves to be angry." Something deep and paternal clicked in Monroe's head, and he pulled Nick up and gave him a hug. Nick wiped his eyes on Monroe's shoulder. Monroe started to gently rock back and forth as if comforting a baby.

"No, buddy... okay, yes, she deserves to be angry, but not like that! Nobody deserves to get beat up, ever. And it's not your fault..." Monroe felt like a dumbass. How could he have missed this? Nick was his best friend... after Rosalee, of course... Rosalee had even mentioned multiple times that she was worried there was something going on... damnit! Monroe was usually pretty perceptive, what the hell had he missed? He silently cursed himself as Nick's crying became sniffles.

"I don't wanna go back to her," the Grimm mumbled quietly. "I wanna run away and I wanna be happy like you're happy with Rosalee... And she's happy with you... And you're gonna have adorable foxy-wolf puppies and you're gonna be happy and love them and I'm gonna be their Uncle and I'm gonna love them sooooo much... And I'm gonna spoil them rotten. You should have a little girl. You and I will spoil her to death!" Monroe smiled a bit at the thought of a miniature Rosalee with his dark curls and hazel eyes. His little princess, that he would spoil like he desperately wanted to spoil her mother... Huh, maybe he was more like Rhett Butler than he thought when Rosalee wrote Gone with the Wind on their List... But that was not nearly as important right now. Monroe kept his arms wrapped around Nick until the Grimm passed out asleep. He gently laid Nick down on the bed, covering him and Sean in blankets. Nick mumbled something about Sean, but Monroe couldn't understand it. Monroe gathered up his phone charger and his clothes for tomorrow before leaving the room and closing the door. He checked on Hank and Bud, then went into the room Nick and Sean had claimed. He flopped down on the bed closest to the door, trying to process what had just happened. He settled under the covers, fidgeting with his phone before deciding to send Rosalee a text.

2:14 AM

You were right about Juliette. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed.

2:17 AM

Are you sure? That's serious.

2:18 AM

He's drunk as a skunk, I don't think he's lying.

2:20 AM

Don't bring up in front of the other guys unless you have to.

2:21 AM

I'll see what I can do. Love you. Thanks for not beating me.

2:22 AM

Spanking doesn't count? Love you too.

Monroe's head fell back onto the pillow and he stared at the ceiling. He had to talk to Nick sober. He had to talk to him alone. Would he deny it without the alcohol to loosen his tongue? He had to verify before he started to think of ways to get Nick out. Juliette had had a change in personality after her coma, becoming more aggressive and competitive, but had it really escalated that far? He thought again of his beloved Rosalee; would he have the strength to leave her if she started beating him? Would she do such a thing? He pulled up a photo of her on his phone. He concentrated on her smile, knowing that her two front bottom teeth are false, knocked out by an old boyfriend during her "rough patch". When she told him that story, he had taken her into his arms and promised her and himself that she would never live through that again. He sighed and turned his phone off, promising the ceiling that if Nick was telling the truth, if Juliette was abusing him, they would find a way to get him out and they would make sure he never went through that again. He eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep as the lights continued to burn on the Las Vegas Strip.