Chapter Text
“Do you ever have weird dreams?”
Monroe glanced at Nick who was still staring at the TV as if he was talking to it.
“Don’t we all?” he asked, slightly suspicious.
“I mean do you ever dream about doing… Blutbad stuff?”
“Blutbad stuff? What's that even mean?”
Nick flushed slightly and took a swallow of his beer, “never mind.”
“Blutbad stuff,” Monroe scoffed, “do you dream about doing human stuff?”
The question was entirely rhetorical so it took him off guard when after a pause Nick replied “I’ve been dreaming about doing Grimm stuff.”
Monroe focused on him this time, Nick was doing his best to appear nonchalant but he was bothered, at least if the way the stared at the TV as if trying to stare though it and fiddled with his beer bottle was any indication. “Yeah, I mean,” Monroe cleared his throat “sometimes I dream about hunting you know, about the chase and…” His voice tampered off for a moment as if he was distracted by something off in the distance, but he regained his composure quickly “I guess that counts as Blutbad stuff as much as anything else.”
“Yeah I guess.”
When Nick still didn’t elaborate Monroe pushed a little, the game was forgotten as he focused on what was bothering his friend so bad. “What is a Grimm dream? Do you dream about going around cutting off Wesen heads?” Monroe realized that now was probably not the best time for jokes as Nick seemed genuinely bothered. “Not that, that would be bad or anything, you know we all have our dark thoughts and so long as they stay thoughts then that's alright. Not that I think you’ve been having dark thoughts, just you know, if you have been, just know it happens. It’s about your actions and really-”
“Monroe,” Nick said, cutting him off and finally looking at him, “You’re rambling again.”
“Right, sorry man.” There was a only a short pause before Monroe started again “so these dreams,”
Nick sighed knowing that this was very much his fault for asking in the first place, “It’s always the same, I’m running, being chased. It’s dark, but the moon gives enough light to keep me from tripping over my own feet but not much more than that. Not much light can get through the trees. I can hear it the whole time, getting closer. Always getting closer.” Nick took another swallow of his beer and refocused his eyes on the tv, but Monroe could feel Nick still watching for his reaction from the corner of his eye.
“Well, that sounds pretty unpleasant but what makes you think it’s Grimm related? It just sounds like a nightmare, I mean you are under a lot of stress right now, some nightmares would be the least you should expect.”
“It just feels different, you know? Like I can smell the forest, and hear the rustle of leaves behind me. When I wake up my legs still ache as though I was running,” This time it was Nick staring into the distance looking for something he just wouldn’t find there.
“Well, if you say this is Grimm related I believe you. Do you know what’s chasing you in the dream?”
Nick came back to the present to look Monroe in the eyes, there was a weight to them, as if Nick was trying to tell him something without speaking but Monroe had no idea what. “No,” Nick answered “I think you’re right, it’s just stress, just a regular nightmare.”
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All he could hear was his heart in his ears. Every time his feet meet the soil a shockwave of pain goes up his body. How long had he been running? How far had he gone? The trees all look the same. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t breath, couldn’t slow down for a single moment. Everytime he thought he might get the chance, that he had finally lost his follower, he would hear it again. A growl so loud, so all consuming he was sure one would be able to hear it for miles. How far away the monster was he couldn’t say, just that it was there, it was coming, and if he stopped, if he slowed down for even a moment it would catch him. And so, he ran. His lungs burned, the impact of his feet against the soil seemed harder than it should be, as if he was always falling, always landing.
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“Nick? Nick!”
Nick couldn’t breath, couldn’t think. He was moving, shaking. No, someone else was shaking him. He was suddenly painfully aware of the hands on his shoulders, the loud voice he couldn’t quite understand though his panic. The scent of the forest and the ache in his legs still at the forefront of his mind the only thought able to come from his adrenaline clouded mind was that he had been caught. He had slowed down, he stopped running and the monster caught him. His body moved on instinct, the need for survival overriding his panic.
“Ow, what was that for?!?”
“Monroe, is that you?” Nick shook his head, trying to clear the fog.
“Of course it’s me, who were you expecting?”
Nick blinked rapidly, his eyes just then adjusting to the darkness, and his current state. His body had acted of its own volition and he was sitting on Monroe’s chest, pinning his friend to the ground.
“Are you feeling okay?” Monroe asked, looking worried.
“Am I okay? Dude I attacked you in my sleep, I'm pretty sure that’s my line.” Nick said, standing up and helping the other man to his feet as well.
“Oh please, it would take more than that to hurt a blutbad,” but the way he rubbed the back of his head suggested that wasn’t entirely true, “besides you looked totally freaked. I’ve never seen you like that.”
“Just another nightmare,” Nick said with a shrug sitting down on the bed.
“One hell of a nightmare,” Monroe responded sitting beside him.
Okay, Nick thought to himself, he’s not leaving then, great. “What were you doing in my room anyway?”
Monroe seemed taken aback and slightly offended at that, “You’re my friend. Do you really think I was just going to ignore your distress like that? I could hear you from down the hall, though I'd come wake you up. That was one hell of a thank you by the way.”
Nick had the common sense to at least be embarrassed at that, “Thank you”
“Of course man, what are friends for. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Actually i’m pretty sure i’m not,”
“Maybe we could go down to the spice shop in the morning, I bet Rosalee has something for nightmares.”
“Yeah,” Nick said, mostly just to pacify him. No calming teas are going to fix this, he could feel it in the deepest parts of his mind. There was something more to the dreams, something grimm related though he couldn’t figure out what. “Actually I think I should try to get some more sleep. Goodnight Monroe.”
“Oh yeah, goodnight Nick,” he responded, leaving Nick to the shadows that still felt far too dark.
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He could smell it, he could hear it. The rabbit fast of it’s heart beat, the pounding footfalls as it ran. The scent of fear and desperation acted like a lighthouse in the night, showing the path of his quandary no matter how it tried to out run him. He saw it then, ahead of him. It was just a flash of colour through the trees, but it was enough. He slowed his run just a little. He let it think it could outrun him, let it think it could get away. After all the moment he catches it the hunt ends, and how he hates that the hunt must end. It will end eventually, he knows this. But it won’t end tonight.
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Monroe awoke sweating, and confused. The dream had seemed so vivid. He shook his head to clear it. He’s not that man, he will never let himself be that man. He was nearly ready to just go back to sleep before he heard it, the sound that woke him in the first place. From the guest room down the hall came a desperate cry, somewhere between a whimper and a scream. He was on his feet in an instant. He didn't know what he intended to do but he had to do something.