Fic: Watch Your Back

[csi_sanders1129]

Title: Watch Your Back
Chapters: 1/1
Author: csi_sanders1129
Genre: Coda. H/C.
Ratings: T
Word Count: 2,459
Pairings/Characters: Nick/Monroe pre-slash.
Synopsis: In the aftermath of the Lowen Games, Nick makes sure Monroe's okay.
Comments: Picks up after 'Last Grimm Standing.' Noticed something during the fight and had to fic for it. Characters aren't mine. Comments are awesome.

There's a knock on the window of his car just as he hangs up from his call with Juliette. He needs to get going if he has any hope of salvaging their anniversary dinner, but the look on Hank's face gives him pause. He rolls down the window, asks "What's wrong?" and is already climbing back out of the car when his partner responds.

"Something's up with your friend," Hank says. "He won't let the medics touch him, though. I don't think he's up for driving home."

Medics? He hadn't realized Monroe had been hurt that badly in the fight. He moves away from his car with a swift walk, back toward the flashing ambulance lights and the last of the cursing Lowen Game attendants as they're put in squad cars and read their rights.

"Hey," he says, stopping when he reaches Monroe's side. "You're hurt?" He asks, a hand lands on Monroe's shoulder out of instinct but the blutbad flinches away from him in response. "Why didn't you say so?"

"'M fine," he grumbles, glaring at a nearby EMT who looks like he wants to approach. Nick raises a skeptical eyebrow and Monroe sighs. "Okay. So they got a few good hits in before you showed up. Really, though, I'm fine. Look, I just want to go home."

Nick knows that he's at fault for Monroe getting hurt. If he hadn't asked for his help on this case, he'd be safe at home and not sitting on the bumper of an ambulance in the middle of the woods. Monroe is at risk every time Nick asks for his help on Grimm cases and he should definitely be sticking around in the aftermath if they end like this. It's his responsibility just as much as the rest of the Grimm work is. Juliette, well... Juliette will have to wait.

"You're coming with me. We'll go get your car tomorrow," he says, since the yellow bug is still right where Leo Taymor's accomplice left it when Nick pulled him over.

Monroe's slow to get to his feet and seems wary of having his back to any of the men and women milling around as part of the investigation, but Nick waves them by the EMT's and officers and back to his car. "Thanks, man," he says climbing into the safety of the passenger's seat as Nick starts the car and pulls away.  

By the time they get back to Monroe's place, the blutbad is very nearly asleep. A gentle nudge of Nick has him on high alert again and he's fumbling with the seat belt and the door handle, trying to get out of the car so Nick can leave already.

But Nick's already out of the car, already up onto the porch and using his spare key to get the door open for him.

"You don't need to stay," Monroe says as he shuts the door behind himself, "I can handle things from here. Thanks for the ride, Nick."

"Nope, not getting rid of me that easy," Nick counters. "I'm not leaving until I'm sure you're okay."

Monroe just looks tired when he replies, a sarcastically witty, "What? Do you want a doctor's note?"

"No, just let me see your shoulder and I'll go away." As far as he's noticed that's the only thing Monroe's been favoring really, and aside from the few cuts and bruises on his face and hands, he can't see any other injuries.

But he hesitates. Not long. Just long enough for Nick to notice that he opts to pull the collar of his shirt down instead of just taking the thing off - he'll have to eventually, as it's bloody and dirty and ripped in a few places and he knows Monroe too well to think that he'd actually sleep in the thing, no matter how tired or hurt he is. Nick can't see any clear sign of injury on the shoulder either, but Monroe had winced when he'd touched it so there has to be something.

"You're not leaving, are you?" Monroe asks, voice resigned and kind of defeated as he turns his back to the hallway wall. Nick notes the pattern and shakes his head. "Look, it's a blutbad thing, okay? You don't need to worry about it. It's just..."

Nick's starting to get it. "He hit your back, didn't he? Your weak spot? The books mention it as a way to kind of stun blutbaden."

This definitely falls into the category of things he should not be telling a Grimm, but he nods all the same. "Yeah. Kind of an understatement. Dimitri knew what he was aiming for, that's for sure." He takes a deep breath and turns around to face away from Nick. It takes significant effort to trust anybody with that side when it's even more vulnerable than usual, but he pulls up the edge of his shirt to reveal black and blue bruises spreading over his lower back. It hurts to move pretty much everything as a result, he could barely stand shifting positions from sitting to standing and getting in and out of the car. Sleeping won't be much fun either, but as long as nothing touches-

Nick's fingers land on his back with no warning.

Monroe doesn't move, holds himself statue still because he's not actually sure he can turn around and face Nick without attacking him with that sort of contact going on. It's all gentle movements and barely there touches, though so at least it doesn't hurt.

"Jeez, Monroe, what'd he do? Stomp on your back for the whole fight?"

"One hit was enough, thanks," he replies, biting the words out through gritted teeth as he fights to get the wolf to accept and trust Nick's unanticipated actions. "Whether or not you're staying, I'm going to take a shower and get out of these clothes, okay?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, moving away from Nick and toward the stairs - a daunting challenge in their own right - and leaves the Grimm standing in his hallway.

The shower helps a lot, hot water and clean soap. He watches traces of dried, red blood flowing down the drain as he scrubs at the small cuts he gained in the fight. He patches those up as best he can once he's out, and pulling on his favorite, well-worn pair of pajama pants feels amazing after his long and eventful evening. Sore muscles protest his movements every step of the way and his back is just pulsing with pain, but he figures that once he talks Nick into going home he can go to bed and just sleep for days.

"Monroe?" Nick calls, voice travelling up the stairs. Footsteps follow a second later, now in the upstairs hallway outside of his room. "You alright in there?"

"I'm fine, Nick," he says again, though clearly the Grimm has yet to believe that claim. "Really, you don't have to stay, man."

 "You're right. I don't have to, but I want to," he says. "Is there anything I can do?"

Monroe opts to stop fighting the inevitable force that is Detective Nick Burkhardt's Grimm infused stubbornness and

nods. "Bruisewort."

"What?" Nick asks, clearly confused.

"It's down in the kitchen - I'm trying to avoid having to go back downstairs - it's an herbal remedy that soothes - you know what? Never mind. It works, that's all that matters." He sighs and tries to remember where it is. "It should be in the cabinet with the first aid kit, in a little plastic container. There's a label on it."

Nick bolts downstairs and returns by the time Monroe has gathered the rest of the supplies, a thin cloth and a cup of warm water. "Here you go," he says, handing the container over.

"Great," he says, mixing some of the dried leaves with a bit of water so it forms a paste. He moves to apply it himself, knowing his inner wolf will react more calmly to that than anything else. Except that that does hurt, worse than any movement he's made since obtaining the wound and he has to brace himself against the bathroom counter to keep from falling over as the wave of pain washes over him.

"Whoa," Nick says, suddenly there and bracing him. "Let me."

His hands are in the paste and on Monroe's back before he can force himself through the pain so that he can form the words necessary to make him stop, but surprisingly he's non-reactive to the unfamiliar hands this time. Monroe relaxes into Nick's touch now, as he applies the soothing paste to the bruised area of his back.

Once it's liberally coated with the bruisewort mixture, Nick backs away, giving him more space. "How's that?" He asks.

Monroe sighs, actually missing the contact now. "Better. Thanks."

"Bed?"

"Huh?"

"Are you going to bed?" Nick clarifies. "I'm guessing it'd be easier to keep that stuff on if you were lying down."

The thought of sleeping with his back so unprotected doesn't sit well with the wounded wolf, but he doesn't really have any other options here. He nods and takes a few steps back toward his room. "The guestroom's made up, and feel free to use whatever you want," he assures his determined houseguest and leaves the bedroom door cracked once he's inside. He crawls onto his bed, settling in the unusual position of on his stomach. He tries to get himself to relax as the paste begins to cool on his skin, but it's not very effective.  

He hears the sounds of Nick fumbling around in the bathroom, taking his own shower. It should be weird that Nick stores extra clothes in the guestroom now, but it's not - mostly just familiarly comforting in a way he's pretty sure it shouldn't be. He listens as Nick returns to the guestroom, scenting the same shampoo and body wash that make up part of Monroe's own scent and finding that comforting, as well.

He distracts himself so well with following Nick's movements through the house that he momentarily forgets the bruise and rolls to his back. He gives an undignified yelp in response to the shooting pain that triggers and quickly moves back.

The sounds of hurried steps and a faster heart beat approach Monroe's room and burst in without knocking. "What happened?" Nick asks, looking for some sign of some physical danger threatening Monroe. He finds none, obviously since Monroe was the idiot who aggravated his own injury, and he explains as much to the protective Grimm.

"I'm staying in here." Nick decides and opts to ignore whatever half-hearted excuses Monroe tries to placate him with. "Move over a little."

Monroe begrudgingly shifts to one side of the bed, still curled awkwardly on his front, while Nick sits beside him. Almost immediately, one of his hands settles on his back, just above the paste-covered bruise. "How long should you leave that on?"

"I should probably take it off now," Monroe mumbles, realizing that it's been almost an hour since Nick put it on for him. Before he can make any move to get up and do it himself, Nick disappears, returning a moment later with a cloth wet with warm water. "Or you can, because apparently I'm not allowed to move."

"If you could see what this thing looks like, you wouldn't want you to be moving, either," Nick replies, taking in the bruise - which seems even darker than before - as he carefully wipes away the dried bruisewort paste. He returns the towel to the bathroom and then he's back by Monroe, now leaning against the headboard and watching the blutbad carefully.

"What is it? I don't think you can think at me any louder."

"I don't want this to happen again." Nick replies, looking sad and somber and angry - at himself, if Monroe had to guess.

Monroe shakes his head, rolls kind of to his side in a way that doesn't put pressure on his back but does allow him to look at Nick. "Don't start that stuff again. Like I told you after the Reapers jumped me: I'm in this as long as you are. I know the risks and I'm here to help you."

Silence falls after that, while Nick sorts out the perils of Grimm work yet again. Eventually he ends up shifting, lying down more so than sitting next to Monroe, and at some point, his hand lands on Monroe's back again, moving slowly down the blutbad's spine and along the defined edges of the bruise. He notes that Monroe doesn't go all tense on him this time and so he expands his motions, all of which seem to help him relax.

"Why were you so defensive of your back before? Just cause it hurt?" Nick asks, curious.

Barely awake now, Monroe has lost access to the coherency required to keep secrets from the Grimm. "No. Blutbad thing. Don't trust people near it, will attack usually. Especially when it's injured," he explains. "Too vulnerable a target for enemies to exploit."

Nick pauses his movements, considering this. "So I should stop before you maul me to death?"

"I'll only do that if you stop," Monroe counters, with a trace of a smile on his face. "You're safe, the wolf side knows that. Wasn't sure at first but I am now and the only reason I'm falling asleep at all is 'cause you're protecting my back. It's kind of a mate thing, but also kind of a pack thing. So, congratulations. I guess you're pack now."

He doesn't really know how to respond to that - to the fact that he's gotten Monroe in even deeper now - but luckily Monroe is too out of it to really register that he doesn't reply to the comment. He does, however, move again. Letting himself curl an arm around Monroe's side and pull him in a little bit so that his back is almost pressed against Nick's chest, perfectly protected there, as one hand still moves over the bruise.

The blutbad is asleep within moments of that shift, slow even breaths that Nick feels more than anything else. He gives a fleeting thought of the anniversary dinner he missed with Juliette and the seven missed calls on his cell phone and how this is really just the beginning of the end for their relationship because this is how it's always going to be. The divisions between Grimm Work, Detective Work and Juliette are starting to fade but Monroe's the only one who knows everything. Hank and Juliette will never understand that part of him, and if Nick can help it, they never will.

So, pack it is.

sallycandance wrote an awesome Morning After scene for this! Morning Afters Taste Like Honey