Early the next morning, Nick was brought into a groggy consciousness, first by a subtle groaning, followed by something landing on his face, and finally by hearing Rosalee talk to him.

"Nick…Nick, wake up. Monroe's coming out of it; he's okay."

The Grimm slowly sat up and watched a paper towel fall to the floor. He turned to look at Monroe, whose forehead was now paper towel-less.

"Nick, I thought you wanted to go camping. Why the hell are we at Rosalee's?" the Blutbad's words came out slurred, but Nick had never been more glad to hear Monroe's voice.

"I had to bring you home. You picked up a tick, remember?"

Monroe started to sit up, but Nick talked him out of it. "Hold your horses, cowboy; you've been unconscious for more than twelve hours. You need to take it easy."

The Blutbad struggled to understand what he was being told. "Unconscious…and a…a tick? No, I don't remember that. The last thing I remember, we were taking a hike on a nature trail, and I was thinking about those wooden figurines…and then I woke up here."

Rosalee didn't know what figurines he was talking about, but she'd ask about that later. Right now she needed to examine him. She touched the back of her hand to his forehead, then lifted the rag from his neck.

"His fever's gone, and the color on his neck looks good. It looks like the antidote finally decided to kick in completely. There's just one more thing we need to check. Nick, you know what to do."

Monroe gave the Grimm an odd look as he carefully reached out to touch him. Nothing happened. Nick and Rosalee grinned at one another.

"He didn't woge!" Nick cried. "He's gonna be okay!"

"What are you talking about?" Monroe inquired, still groggy. When neither of his friends responded, he asked, "How out of it was I?"

"You were pretty out of it," Rosalee said. "Up until now, Nick couldn't touch you without you woging."

Monroe was fully awake at that revelation and looked at Nick. "Dude, I didn't…I mean…um…I didn't, you know, attack you…did I?"

Nick shook his head negatively. "Don't worry, Monroe, you didn't. You just…well, you weren't yourself, and you didn't know what you were doing. I know that. What matters is that you're out of the woods and you'll be back to normal in no time."

"I'll go warm the rest of the antidote, just to make sure the virus is completely gone," Rosalee said quietly as she picked up the empty bowl off the floor.

The guys watched her leave, then Monroe turned his attention back to Nick. "Speaking of being out of the woods, do me a favor. The next time you feel the need for some Grimm-Wesen bonding time, is it okay if I choose the place?"

Nick chuckled softly as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Monroe, you've got yourself a deal."

xXxXx

Rosalee returned to the back room with the remainder of the antidote for Monroe and was greeted by the sight of Nick laying on the floor, alongside the couch. He was filling Monroe in on the last fourteen hours or so. The guys didn't realize she was there, and she took advantage of the opportunity to watch them just be together.

"…brought you back here, and Rosalee pulled the tick out," Nick was saying. "I returned to camp to pack everything up and got back here about nine last night. Rosalee'd been feeding you some sort of Wesen concoction all afternoon, and before we went to sleep, I gave you your last dosage of the evening."

"And I really woged on you, huh?" Monroe inquired.

"For a while, I couldn't even get near you, let alone touch you, without triggering a woge."

"Dude, I don't remember any of it - nothing whatsoever. It's all just a blank," Monroe responded.

Rosalee announced her presence by clearing her throat. "And that's okay. What's important is that it's over and you're gonna be just fine. Now, humor me and pretend I'm your doctor for a little while. I want you to finish what's left of this 'Wesen concoction,' as Nick calls it, then rest for a few more hours. If you behave, I'll let you go home in time for lunch." She smiled at Nick as he grimaced at the thought of her eavesdropping on their conversation. "Here, give him this while I get the shop ready for business. I took a day off yesterday that I really couldn't afford."

Nick sat up, took the bowl, and spooned some of the antidote out. "All right, buddy. Open wide."

Monroe sneered at what he was being offered. "What the hell is in that stuff? It reeks."

The Grimm struggled to recall everything Rosalee had told him the night before. "Consommé broth…uh, lavender oil, black mustard seeds…lemon peels, and…oh, Spanish moss."

"That's what stinks. I'm not eating it," Monroe stated.

"You ate it yesterday."

"I didn't know what I was doing yesterday. You said so yourself. I'm not eating it," the Blutbad insisted.

"You may not go home if you don't," Nick argued.

Monroe smiled. "Would that be so bad? I'd rather stay here and have Rosalee as my nursemaid than you any day of the week."

"Then don't eat this stuff for me; eat it for Rosalee. Come on, open up."

Monroe reluctantly agreed, but put his hand up to stop the spoon just before it entered his mouth. "Wait…you're sure that's all of it?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't think she's hiding another batch anywhere else. Now for the last time…open up the hangar for the airplane."

More than anything, Monroe wanted to be offended by Nick's attempt to get him to eat. After all, he wasn't five. But all at once, it struck him as hilarious, and he howled with laughter.

In short order, Nick joined him, and the next few minutes of laughter served the break the ice. Once the pair was finally able to settle down, Monroe took the antidote without any further argument.

xXxXx

Rosalee had left the back room and shut the door behind her, and for a while all was quiet. But suddenly she heard the guys burst into laughter and wondered what had been said or done to cause it. She stopped sweeping and just listened as her friends enjoyed each other's company.

Friends…somehow that doesn't seem to quite cover it. When did the three of us get to be more than that? Rosalee wondered. When did we become our own family?

She didn't have an answer. Her path had somehow been crossed with both Nick's and Monroe's, whose own paths had somehow been intersected with one another's. Regardless of how or why, relationships had been formed, too strong to be broken.

The Fuchsbau resumed sweeping, unaware that the bonds that tied Nick and Monroe to each other would soon be tested, and the meaning behind those mysterious wooden figurines Monroe had mentioned would be made clear in a way that no one expected.