Nick's Stuck in a Well

By: Selim

Summary: Prompt Fill for Anon on Grimm Kink. "What if Nick had this aggravating habit of getting himself stuck in strange places? Monroe's always getting the phone call begging for help out of tiny cracks in between buildings, up in trees, under the kitchen sink, sometimes in the doggy door..."

Rating: PG15

Pairings: Monroe x Nick

Disclaimer: I do not own any Grimm. This is a piece of pure fiction and the author is making no money off its making.

Notes: Written for a prompt on Grimm_Kink, Prompt was posted on January 14. I discovered it on the 17th of July and posted a Fill the same day. This is the transition to fanfiction.


He was in the middle of a delicate job when his phone went off, startling him. Dropping the tiny screw into a case, Monroe grabbed his phone with full intention of letting the person on the other end know what he really thought of them, until he saw the number.

Baby Grimm – Nick

Exhaling sharply, he reminded himself that he had to pick up. If Nick got himself killed, the cops would suspect Monroe first because that was the idiot's last known location.

"What?" He grumbled, fumbling with the lighting on his desk.

"Monroe! Thank God, I need your help!"

He shook his head. "Don't you always?" He couldn't even find the energy to voice his sarcasm.

"No, like – really. How fast can you get to the Warehouses on Westport?"

Glancing at his overhead clock, Monroe shrugged absently. "If traffic is slow, within fifteen minutes, why?"

"I just really need your help."

"Nick…?" He was already out the door, coat at hand and car roaring to life. "What's going on?"

"Just come," huffed the Grimm before hanging up.

Fifteen minutes later, Monroe couldn't help but stare in shock at the loan metal beam, held hundreds of feet in the air by a crane. It was his enhanced sight that let him see the lone person clinging to the metal beam, looking like death warmed over.

Spotting him, Nick's voice wavered through the site. "H, help!"

How on earth…? Monroe groaned, moving to the crane while praying the manual was somewhere on the huge machine.


"I didn't want her to know I had been on her territory."

"She'll probably know anyway, you leave a scent behind where you go. If she's back within the next few weeks, it'll be there."

"Thank you so much for coming to help me. I know it's not easy, being here, seeing this."

"Which 'this'?" Monroe tapped his elbow, looking over the scene with some delight traced with annoyance.

"It must be hard," Nick chimed from the other side of the door. "Seeing that your ex has a doggy door on her house."

"I admit," Monroe nodded, "That is a surprise but not completely unprecedented. My Aunt has one because her husband prefers to travel in his wolf form. Easier to get in without drawing attention to yourself. Clothes don't exactly transform with us, y'know." Fishing through his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone, bringing up the camera.


"Don't take pictures!"

"Would you rather I contact the police about you breaking and entering? I bet Hank would just love to see this in person." Another picture and Monroe moved to the side, avoiding the rapidly kicking legs on his side of the door. "Seriously, why did you think you could fit through a doggy door?"


Only one person would call him at two in the morning. One person would wake him up after he finished a tough commission without a care in the world to other people's sleep cycles.

"What, Nick?" He grumbled, pillow over his head.

"I'm stuck."

"You're always stuck." Monroe rolled to the side of the bed, yawning deeply. "Where are you at?"

"Two blocks from the old church down by the docks."

Monroe raised a brow. "The one that set fire the other day? I didn't know someone died in that."

"Luckily no one did but it was started by a Wesen group. Uh, the one salamander that spits fire?"

Keys at hand, Monroe locked his front door. "Feuerechses, yes. Nasty buggers. Usually are your pyromaniacs, one get a little out of control?" Nick made a small affirmative sound. "Anyway, where are you stuck this time?"

"In my car." Nick whispered.

"Excuse me?" Monroe dropped his head on the stirring wheel. "Nick, pull the little lever on the door, the lock should pop right open." Please tell me he's not that stupid.

"That's not exactly the problem."

"Then what is?" Monroe started his car. Might as well see what was up with Nick. He certainly wasn't going to sleep now.

"Well those Feuerechses kind of found meand I could really use that Wesen strength of yours to, uh…open the door."

"They wielded the door shut? How the hell did you give them time to do that?"

"Thanks for helping again, Monroe. I, like, so owe you for it."

"Nick! How did they get the time to–"

A dial tone answered him.

Maybe Nick really was stupid?


"What the hell!"

Monroe dropped his laundry while jumping back, "What the fuck are you doing in there?"

"I was playing hide-and-go-seek with your nephew. Cute kid by the way."

"How long have you been stuffed in my dryer?"

Nick shrugged. "Since about noon. Was going to call you earlier but kind of can't reach my cell phone."

Monroe felt a vein pop in his forehead. "And you didn't yell because?"

"Well you were working so hard on the clock; I didn't want to be a bother. I figured you'll find me eventually."

"Rotting in my dryer, yeah. Okay, let's get you out."

"Thanks, my back was starting to really kill me. Where is your Nephew anyway? He should have found me by now."

"Sis picked him up three hours ago."

"I couldn't have napped that long while waiting. Monroe, my back is really starting to hurt; can you maybe…tear open the front or call for some help?"

"Let's try maneuvering you out first and once this is all said and done, I think you'll be great at yoga."


He had a cart full of vegetables when his phone rang, Nick's picture (of him halfway through Angelina's doggy door, of course) popping up on the screen. Grumbling about his luck, Monroe pressed the phone to his ear while weighing two cantaloupes, trying to decide which the better value was.

"Good thing you called, do you prefer cantaloupe or honeydew?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Of course there is!" Monroe huffed. It never ceased to amaze him how limited Nick's palate really was. It was a good thing they were officially an item – he was going to make sure Nick's meals were more homemade-based and wide in variety.

"Whatever you want. Hey, are you busy right now?"

"If you mean am I shopping for our weekly groceries because you keep putting it off, then yes." Monroe put the smaller cantaloupe in the cart. "What's up?"

"Well, I'm kind of in a situation and could really use your help."

"Uh huh, a situation. Where are you stuck this time, in a cage?"

"Hey in terms of who's been shoved in a cage more, I think you win that one. No, no cage. Uh, I'm under a sink right now."

"…A sink?" He had long since given up asking why. He had to weigh his options now: abandon his groceries or go through the checkout line and come back later to finish what he'd started. It all depended on how grave the situation was because, personally, he was more than willing to let Nick sweat it out under that sink. "Is it really that important that I come now?"

"Honestly? Yeah. I crawled under the sink because there was a second compartment and I thought they were hiding evidence back there. Well, while I was looking, they sort of locked me in here."

"Who?" Monroe grumbled. What Wesen was stupid enough to lock a Grimm in a cupboard? That wouldn't hold them down for long.

"Just some punks. Normally I'd just kick out the cabinets but they put this dog on the other side, big furious one. Pretty sharp teeth, I think it's part shark and—"

Abandoning his cart with an apologetic noise, Monroe left the store. "You're rambling."

"You going Blutbad, I can handle. Two or three ogres at once, sure. This huge dog that is pacing outside my cabinet, not so much. I could really use your help here. Uh, to chase away the dog and maybe let me out."

"What's the address."

Nick gave it to him.

Halfway on the drive, while trying to calm his lover down, Monroe felt laughter boil in his gut. "Well, at least one thing comes from me being a big bad wolf."

"If you scare this dog away, you're my hero."

"Don't think me until I get you out of there first."



Oh lord, his phone was going off again and Nick's picture was, of course, flashing across the screen. Not even home, Monroe prepared to bang his head into the steering wheel if his love had gotten himself trapped againbecause seriously, this was getting ridiculous.

"Where are you now?" He greeted into the phone.

"Eh?" Nick's voice raised a bit. "You're supposed to say hi or something like that. I'm at home by the way, waiting for you."

"Not in my dryer I hope. That's new, Nick. I don't want to tear apart another appliance getting you out."

"I'm not stuck anywhere, I just wanted to know if you were coming home, preferably soon."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a block out. Should I be worried?"

"No, just…come upstairs." That said, Nick hung up the phone, leaving Monroe to wonder what trouble the Grimm had gotten himself into this time.

At home, he hung up his keys and coat, removed his shoes and sniffed deeply. Nick was definitely home, upstairs like he said. Making his way up the flight, he stopped short of the bathroom to shut off the light the Grimm had left on before continuing down the hall, inspecting every nook and cranny for a foot sticking out of his ventilation system or something.

The last door was his bedroom, which was ajar. "Nick?"

"In here." The Grimm chimed.

Pushing open his door, Monroe found himself grinding to a halt, taking in the sight on his bed. Nick, chained up to the headboard with his own government issued handcuffs. Nick, naked as the day he was born, put out on display for the Blutbad to see.

"I'm purposely stuck."

"I can see that."

"Are you going to help me?"

Rubbing his hands together, Monroe smiled. "Oh, I think I will."