The silence was...what? Deafening? Annoying? Unnecessary? All of the above? They had been stewing in it ever since Rosalee had left them to go make dinner (17 minutes and counting!) and though it frustrated Nick, the simple truth was that he couldn't think of what to say. For him, the subject was closed and anything more would be redundant.

"Is this the part where we hug it out?" he quipped, making Monroe briefly chuckle.

"Honestly, dude, I'm not sure if I could do that and not hurt you."

Nick gave his own short laugh this time, wincing when it aggravated his injured side. "Fair enough," he granted. He looked in the direction of the kitchen, an action which was as uncomfortable as it was awkward since it lay behind him, then looked back at his friend. Nodding his head in that direction he said, "Think we've done enough talking to satisfy her?"

"Probably not," Monroe answered with his eyes glued towards the kitchen. "So, you never answered my question." He waited a moment to see if Nick would feign ignorance or if he would voluntarily fill in the blanks. Brown eyes looking saddened yet determined focused on Nick as his silence drew his friend's attention. When Nick continued to keep quiet, he asked, "How badly did I hurt you?"

It was enough of an alteration to term the question different, but Nick could still hear the guilt and horror that his friend felt. They were the same emotions he had heard the first time around, which Nick thought were pretty unnecessary given how much they had been through. "Monroe," he began on a sigh, only to be cut off by the blutbad.

"Don't bother with placating me or telling me that you're fine," he interjected with a tone of someone who just wants to get things out of the way. "I know all that. What I don't know is the extent of your injuries after the fight."

"What does it matter?" Nick answered, sounding both defeated and exasperated. He honestly didn't see the point in telling Monroe any of it since it wouldn't help change things and it was all over and done with. Why did he have to keep pushing?

Monroe opened his mouth to argue then shut it before tilting his head to the side as though thinking. "You're right," he admitted, seeming to deflate a little as the fight when out of him. "It doesn't really matter, in the grand scheme of things. It won't change what happened and it won't help you heal any faster." He held up his hands in a pacifying manner which hinted at him letting the subject go. Then he added, "This is the last time I'm gonna say this, but I want to make sure that you hear me." He paused as he waited to make sure that he had Nick's full attention. It was hard for Nick to not throw in a quip to lighten the mood; he knew that Monroe was being completely serious and so he endeavored to be likewise. With as much earnest entreaty as Nick had ever seen him use, Monroe finally said, "What happened last week, during the fight - that won't happen again. I don't blame you for what you did while you were a zombie, just like you don't blame me." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "And I am so sorry for hurting you like I did. The next time something like that happens, stop me."

"The same goes for me, too, you know," Nick answered, feeling a little choked up by the sincerity he felt coming from his friend. He smirked ever so slightly as he added, "If you can stop me."

Monroe snorted at that but let it go. Instead he nodded in satisfaction. "Good." He leaned back to settle into the chair, one leg crossing over the other in a relaxed position.

"So, what? Do we go back to staring at one another?" Nick quipped after a minute's silence.

"I'm going to go see if Rosalee needs any help in the kitchen," his friend answered as he got out of the chair. "You are going to sit there like a good little grimm like Rosalee suggested and watch some TV or nap or something, I dunno. Personally, I don't care what you do so long as whatever it is involves remaining on that couch. Got it?"

"I thought that you were the dog in this friendship," Nick teased, ignoring the fact that he was being treated like a child more than a dog. He smiled when the blutbad growled ever so slightly.

"I thought that we had already had this conversation. I am not your household pet who's just gonna come whenever you call." He paused then tilted his head, looking annoyed as he considered that. Nick raised a challenging eyebrow at that statement but whether or not Monroe noticed it, he couldn't tell. "What am I talking about, that's exactly what happens! But I am not your own personal dog," he added, pointing his finger at Nick with emphasis. "Now, just stay there and relax."

Nick raised his hands in a human imitation of dog paws and said, "Arf!"

With a roll of his eyes, Monroe walked away, mumbling something about "pain in the ass, stubborn, baby grimms", and "being nobody's pet" all the while.

Nick chuckled, wincing when it hurt. He was relieved to know that things with everyone were starting to go back to normal. Now that the tension, which had stifled the air in the house, was slowly dissipating, Nick found himself looking forward to the dinner that Rosalee had planned. Who knows, maybe everyone won't spend the entire time making sure that hey stays sitting down? Nick scoffed at that, ignoring the brief spike of pain it caused as he turned the TV on and changed the channel to sports. Yeah, he thought, and hell will freeze over any minute now.

OoO

Juliette was quiet as she entered Monroe's home. She had received a text from the blutbad right as she was getting ready to leave work, saying that Nick was asleep and to just come in when she got to the house for dinner. Not wishing to risk waking Nick, whom could probably use the sleep, she did as instructed, making sure to make as little noise as was possible.

The smell coming from the kitchen drew her further into the home where she found Nick passed out on the couch, his left hand resting on his chest, his right arm above his head, and a pillow gently elevating his right knee. He looked relaxed, which was nice. With the direction their lives had progressed, she had seen him this way less and less, which frustrated her; she didn't like how much stress he was being put under. Unable to stop herself, Juliette ran her hands through his hair, pushing it away from his face. Nick made a contented sound in his throat, shifting ever so slightly as he did so. His head tilted towards her, his eyelids fluttering as though he might try to open them to see who was touching him. When she did it again, he settled back down, seeming to unconsciously recognize that it was her, and began to softly snore. She lingered a minute longer, content to stare at the man she loved while he slept, then headed for the kitchen.

"Hey!" Monroe quietly greeted. He offered a brief smile before he went back to slicing some eggplant. "I see you got my text."

"Yeah," Juliette answered, setting down cloth bags of forgotten groceries. Alongside the message about just coming in, he'd also asked her to pick up a few things, which she had been more than happy to do. "You guys need any help?"

Looking around the kitchen, Juliette doubted she'd be needed. While every surface the small space had was covered, there was a feeling of order to it that told her they had this covered. Still. she would feel bad if she didn't at least offer. Besides, she didn't like the idea of simply sitting around while others worked; it felt wrong somehow.

Rosalee paused what she was doing at the stove to look around at the ordered chaos. "I think we got it," she answered after a bit. Her brown eyes drifted down towards the bottle of red wine which Juliette had grabbed. "But I wouldn't say no to small glass of that."

Juliette turned on the spot, searching and finding the wine glasses, then happily poured three cups of wine, handing two to her friends and keeping the other for herself. While the two continued to prepare dinner, Juliette settled in the doorway, blocking any view they might have had of Nick with her own body. That wasn't her intention, of course, it was simply the only place she could stand and know that she wouldn't be in their way.

"So how is he?" she asked, not bothering to name whom she meant; at this point there was only one person she could be talking about.

"He's doing okay," Rosalee answered in a tone which was obviously meant to reassure her. If it hadn't been for the slight hesitation, it probably would have, but Juliette could tell there was more to the story.

"You mean, physically, he's okay," Juliette said, making sound like a statement as well as a question. She looked over her shoulder at the dark hair peeking up from a pillow. "He's still struggling with what happened, isn't he?"

"Less him, and more us," Monroe answered as he set the eggplant aside and began working on some tomatoes.

There wasn't much to say to that. While her talk with Nick had helped, it hadn't made things perfect. Juliette still flinched if he moved too fast or when he raised his hands near her. She hated that she did it, but they both knew there was nothing to be done about it except let time do its thing. She watched Monroe look towards the couch, a curious expression on his face. It was a cross between anger and guilt. The guilt she could understand, but the anger was harder for her to grasp. Was he still mad at Nick for what had happened? Or had he turned the anger on himself for what he'd done to Nick?

"How's Hank been doing with all this?" Juliette asked in hopes of steering the conversation away from their inability to move on, though she doubted he would talk to any of them about things. Since he seemed to be handling it all much better than they, Hank seemed like a safe subject.

"He seems to be okay from what we can tell," Monroe answered, passing the diced tomatoes over to Rosalee who put them in a deep saucepot. "Even though Nick really went at him, he doesn't seem to be having the same problems we are."

Or, he just hasn't admitted anything yet, Juliette thought, but didn't say. Hank was a good man, a good detective, and he'd been a good partner for Nick ever since they'd been assigned together. On the surface, it looked like nothing fazed him, like nothing ever got to him, but, after some talks with Nick, Juliette knew differently. Hank compartmentalized things until they could be dealt with at a later time. Once the time had come, he'd say his piece, work through whatever it was, and then he'd move on. From what she could tell, neither he nor Nick had talked about anything beyond when Hank had confronted Nick the day Nick had planned on turning himself in. Hank's time was coming, though, of that Juliette was sure.

"Somebody say my name?"

Juliette startled, somehow managing not to squeal or drop the wine in the process. She hadn't even heard him come in, how had he done that? "Yeah," she said, moving out of the way so he could join her in the doorway, effectively joining in the conversation without having to talk directly in her ear. "We were just wondering how you were handling all that's been going on. With Nick and everything."

He was quiet for a minute, his brown eyes taking in the three of them before flicking over to the couch where his gaze stayed fixed. "I'm alright," he unconvincingly answered. When he looked back and found them all staring at him with different expressions of disbelief on their faces, he added, "I'm not saying I'm over it or anything, but Nick and I can work on things when he's in a better position to."

"You mean when you can soundly the beat the crap out of him without feeling bad about it," Monroe scoffed, evidently having guessed what the detective was referring to.

"I don't know about the soundly, part," Hank countered, "but yeah."

"You know that can lead to other problems, right?" Monroe said, leaning against the counter he'd been working on now that he was finished. "I mean, I had the same thoughts, trust me, but it didn't help quite as much as I had expected it to. Believe me."

"Look, I know Nick still feels guilty over what happened," Hank assured, his voice soft so that he didn't wake the man in question, but his tone earnest. "And I understand your wanting to get payback, but that's not why I want to do it."

Okay, now Juliette was lost. "Then why?"

"I can't have a partner who's afraid of himself, who's too scared of the damage he could cause to do his job. I need to break him out of that and make sure that he's not going to be a danger to me, himself, or anyone else he's partnered with."

"You know, in a strange way, that actually makes sense," Monroe agreed before taking a sip of his wine.

When you considered that Hank's and Nick's relationship was based on more than simple friendship, it really did make sense. Hank and Nick weren't just friends, they were partners. They entered situations knowing, without a doubt, that they had each other's backs. This whole situation threw that trust out of balance. Hank trusted Nick, that Juliette would never doubt, but this was different. Hank had to know that Nick wouldn't freeze because he was too afraid of hurting someone. Guilt was a treacherous beast and Hank couldn't afford to allow it to devour Nick.

"How long has he been asleep?" Hank asked, tipping his head over his shoulder in Nick's direction.

"A few hours, actually," Rosalee answered, sounding pleased. "We should probably wake him, though, dinner won't take much longer to be ready and I'm sure he'll want time to wake up before we eat."

"I'll do it," Juliette volunteered, figuring Nick would rather see her first thing than any of the others. She filled another couple of glasses of wine, handing one to Hank before taking the other to the living room where the man she loved lay.

oOo

Dinner felt like a family affair. All of them mother-henned Nick until he was at the table and in a position they all deemed a dealbreaker - with lots of pillows and his knee elevated. At first, Juliette had been confused as to why that was necessary, but after Rosalee had finished explaining Nick's original injuries, and the ones that were likely to have been made worse by today's events, she had quickly jumped on the bandwagon. Once they had all been settled and the food had been served, the teasing had begun, interspersed with talk about the events in their lives in general.

The normalcy of the evening had Nick relaxing in a way nothing else had been able to. Shortly before sitting down, Hank had promised to take Nick to the mat when he was feeling better. At first, Nick had joked about being able to take Hank on, but they both knew that Nick would let his partner kick his ass, then he'd really looked at his partner and he understood what it was his partner wasn't saying and Nick had smiled, feeling both touched and reassured. Hank's experience with him while he had been in zombie mode had been the final nail in the coffin of the whole terrible experience. With that having been settled, Nick felt himself begin to feel that things would be okay. They all needed time to get past what had happened, of course, but in the end, they were a family and family stuck together no matter what.

Fin