Chapter Text
Monroe was absolutely everything to Nick. Once they met and fell in love, he had no idea how he ever lived without Monroe. Before he moved into Monroe's home, he had trouble sleeping without him. But if Nick thought that sleeping apart was hard, it was nothing compared to simply existing without Monroe. That was hell. The air in his lungs felt like it was made of razor blades, and he felt like someone had hollowed him out and filled him with lead. Living without Monroe could only be described as absolute agony.
Nick got a week off from work, and what time in that week he didn't spend asleep, he spent watching TV and only eating food he could have delivered. After having pizza for dinner the third night in a row, he had to sleep on the bathroom floor because he kept throwing up into the toilet. He only managed to get himself into the shower when it was absolutely necessary, meaning that he couldn't stand the feeling of his skin anymore. But when he had to be back at work, he went.
Nick did much better on his first day back than anyone in the precinct had expected him to. It was a slow day, so he laughed along with jokes and seemed generally happy. When Wu ran to McDonald's, he stopped and asked Nick if he wanted anything, figuring he would say no but wanting to offer regardless. Nick perked up at that, actually requesting a meal.
"It is so nice to finally eat something other than pizza or Chinese," Nick told Hank as he shoveled fries into his mouth. Monroe had always hated McDonald's so it was okay, he could eat it without burning holes in his throat.
When work did pick up, Nick worked cases like he never had before, like it had always run in his blood but he was just now beginning to bleed. He took mental notes of how people were killed, what mistakes led to the killers getting caught, and which ones got away. He worked in silence unless he was spoken to, and found killers in record time. Hank noticed the change and even questioned him about it one time.
"I'm just throwing myself into my job," Nick assured him, which wasn't a lie. He was throwing himself into the work because it brought him closer to Monroe's killers, and finally having revenge.
Monroe's homicide case had gone cold, and Nick wasn't allowed to work on it himself during work hours unless he had free time, which he scarcely did. So every waking moment that he didn't spend at work, he spent looking into it himself. The house that he used to share with Monroe had been turned into a Bauerschwein information center, essentially. The living room was filled with books and personal notes, and he knew everything that he possible could about this particular Wesen kind, so it all came down to finding the select few who had caused Monroe's death.
Nick's lifestyle had become a strict routine, and he had practically become a robot. While his living room had been turned into a research center, the kitchen was always littered with dirty dishes and takeout boxes, and the bed upstairs was never made. The sheets needed to be washed but he couldn't, he couldn't bring himself to wash away the memory of the last time he had kissed Monroe good morning.
Despite his new life as a dead man walking, and his desire for revenge, Nick did a great job of keeping everyone else oblivious to it. He went over to Hank's house after work a few times, drinking a few beers and watching whatever game was on like everything was normal. Hank thought it was.
There weren't a lot of Wesen willing to be friends with Nick. He had Bud and Rosalee, and sure there were some people he knew because of Monroe, but they didn't trust him as far as they could throw him. When Monroe was killed, Nick had Bud and Rosalee on the lookout for the Bauerschwein who had done it, and made them swear up and down that they would call him anytime, night or day, if they found anything.
When the call came at 3 in the morning, Nick was dreaming about the first time he and Monroe had said 'I love you'. They were lying on that very bed on a chilly Wednesday night, wrapped in the sheets and just enjoying being together. They both had a bit of wine in them but that wasn't what drew it out, although it did make it easier to say. Nick was tracing patterns in the fabric of Monroe's shirt when he said it. Monroe didn't hesitate to say it back. When his ringing cell phone pulled Nick into consciousness, he had to lie there and compose himself before he could answer it.
"Nick, it's me, I mean it's Bud. I tried calling you just a moment ago and I got your voicemail so I wasn't sure if I should call you back, I mean if you didn't answer because you were sleeping that's good, you need to get plenty of sleep, but I knew you would want to know this right away so that's why I'm calling again."
"Bud, what is it?" Nick said, sitting up straight in bed.
"I think I found them. The Bauerschwein, I mean."
Half an hour later, Nick and Bud were standing in the road, watching the only house on that street that still had lights on at that hour. There were a couple of cars in the driveway and they could occasionally see movement behind the drawn curtains, but couldn't make anything out.
"Are you sure they're all in there?" Nick asked, not taking his eyes off of the house.
"I-I'm pretty sure, I mean unless any of them left while I was calling you, but I think they're all still in there. I've been watching them for a few hours, and I don't know why they've all gotten to together here, but they have. What are you going to do, Nick?"
"They killed Monroe, Bud. I'm gonna give them what they deserve."
Without another word, Nick pushed past Bud and walked steadily towards the house. His handgun was at his side, and he had a knife with a 6-inch blade in his hand. It wasn't much up against six Bauerschwein, but it was enough.
The third time, it poured.