The Assistant Headmaster (Mystrade Fanfic)

Nineteen

Greg

I was ecstatic on my date with Mycroft. I was still grinning when I got back to Baskerville, still over the moon about everything and still seeing the beauty in the world and all that was in it. And then, as I guess I could only imagine, I went into my dorm room, seeing a huge crowd around the door. I pushed my way through to find Anderson and Donovan in the middle of a row. 

They were shouting, cursing, throwing things - the whole shibang. I rolled my eyes as I heard it all. The audience looked positively enthralled with the abuse flying backwards and forwards. And then it happened. That horrid, horrid girl, picked up one of my past rugby trophies and smashed it across Anderson's face. The audience gasped. So did Sally. Anderson dropped like a sack of potatoes. 

"Alright, that's it!" I shouted. "Everyone get lost!" Once they moved away I turned to Donovan.  "Sally you crazy witch get out of our room! And don't ever touch my trophies again! Look, it's got blood on it!" I shouted at her. "Blood! Now I have to go and get it polished again because of your carelessness!"

The tears that were already flowing down her face came faster, and I gently pushed her out of the room, gaining a bit of sympathy for her (I mean, she had been putting up with Anderson for a while) and locked the door, just as Anderson came to.

"Anderson, you bloody bastard! What the hell was all that about?" I asked, crouching down beside him.

"She found out about... my girl on the side," he groaned, sitting up. He rubbed his face and blanched at the blood he found on his hand. 

"Looks like you've got a broken nose. You deserve it though, you berk."

"Will the nurse be here still?"

"Not bloody likely, mate. It's almost twelve. You'll need to go to the hospital."

"Will you come with me?"

"I don't really want to, but shit, I guess I'll have to. I'll text Mike. He'll have to take us since he has a car. Until then, go stand over the loo. Your nose is pouring blood like water from a tap."

Anderson staggered to his feet and went through to the bathroom as I text Mike with a sigh. His response was almost instantaneous. 'Y me?'

'Because,' I texted back, 'You're the only one with parents willing to trust their kid with a car.' 

A few minutes later, Mike came down the hall and into our room. "Wow, it looks like there's been a tornado in here."

"Sally, tornado, same thing," I shrugged, smiling lazily. 

Mike laughed heartily and walked over to the bathroom. "Anderson! What is taking you so long?!"

"Well, Mike," came Anderson's sarcastic voice from the other side of the door, making Mike and I exchange an amused look. "My nose is pissing out with blood and it hurts like a bitch."

"You didn't answer my question," Mike said, biting his tongue to hold back a laugh. 

Something hit the door, and Mike and I both spluttered, finally letting our laughs out. "Easy does it, Phillip!" I called out. 

"Oh, shut up, would you?" Came the lad's annoyed voice as the bathroom door opened. Anderson looked terrible. Already, his eyes were already bruising, and his nose still bleeding, sitting at an awfully crooked angle. He held a handful of loo paper under his nose to catch the blood.

"Bloody hell!" Mike exclaimed as he looked at him. "What'd she hit you with?"

"Greg's rugby trophy."