Mystrade Oneshots

21) (II) The Morning After

Alright. This took a while because I really hated the first draft and decided to rewrite it, but here it is finally amwyatt. There's also a third part in the works if anyone would like to see it.

"Shoot it!"

"I can't see it!"

"There! Just going into the woods! By that tree!"

"I got it!"

"Is it dead?!"

"If it isn't now it will be by morning."

Greg bolted upright. He was breathing heavily and sweating all over. His eyes were wide and breaths erratic. His head was throbbing. His mind was racing.

A bad dream. Just a bad dream.

After a moment he managed to calm down. His breathing was back to a somewhat normal pace and his head had stopped pounding so much.

He sighed shakily and laid back down. He closed his eyes and gave himself a moment to calm. It was about then he realised that he wasn't at home in his own bed.

His eyes shot open as he sat up again. He was in some kind of wooden shack. His eyes went wide as his breathing started to pick again. "Di- Did they catch me?!"

It was about then that he realised he was laying on something soft. But why?

"Blankets? Why would they give me blankets?" He mumbled to himself. He looked down at his leg, the wound he'd recieved last night was all bandaged up. "...Why would they-?"

He hadn't even noticed the blood soaked bandage around his right forearm. The one on his left thigh being slightly more painful and therefore more noticeable. The smell of blood was strong in the air, mainly because he was covered in his own. The bleeding from his injuries had soaked through the bandages onto the blanket he was sleeping on, but he hadn't noticed that either, or maybe he just didn't care. He had bigger things to worry about.

It was then he heard a noise from outside, someone was coming and it had just occurred to him that he was completely naked. He grabbed one of the blood-soaked blankets he was laying on and just about managed to cover himself before the door opened.

A tall, slim man entered. He had auburn hair and wore a stylish three piece suit that fitted him quite well. Really well in fact.

The man stopped in his tracks when they locked eyes. Neither had been expecting to see the sight that greeted them. One had thought he'd wake up either alone in a forest or alone in his own bed, the other had fancied he'd find a mysterious creature asleep in his shed. Both were mistaken.

Mycroft spoke first. "H-hello."

The man just looked at him. Looked at him the same way that creature had looked at him last night when he'd first found it in the clearing. Surely they couldn't be...the same?

"Are you...ok?" Mycroft asked. He wasn't sure what else he could ask.

He received no answer. Just more cold, hard, staring.

"Listen, I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Mycroft Holmes." He knelt down where he stood, hoping that by making himself smaller he'd seem like less of a threat. "You're in my shed. I found you injured last night and brought you here. Do you understand?"

The man took a moment, but he did start nodding.

"Good, good..." Mycroft mumbled to himself. He wasn't really sure he understood what was going on, so it was good that one of them did. It was then he noticed what bad shape the guy was in. Naked, covered in blood, nasty injuries on two limbs. He got up and headed for the door. "Stay here, ok? I'll get you something to wash with."

"No."

Mycroft stopped in his tracks.

"Stay."

Mycroft turned around slowly, more than a little surprised.

"Please."

It was then that Mycroft saw the change in the mans eyes, just like that creature last night. They both went from distrustful to sad just like that.

"Ok..." Mycroft replied. "I'll stay." He didn't know what to make of all this. He had found a dog in the woods, brought it home, and now he had a man. Surely it couldn't be a- No. That's impossible.

The man nodded again and seemed to let out a shaky sigh of relief. "Thank you."

The two men sat in silence for a while. Mycroft had his back against the wall, fairly close to the other man, but not too close. The other man just layed there, breathing heavily and looking at Mycroft with pained eyes.

"How did I get the injury on my arm?" The man asked after a while.

Mycroft was slightly taken aback by the question. He knew how the creature had obtained the injury, but this man wasn't- he couldn't be, could he?

"You, well you-" Mycroft just decided to bite the bullet. The evidence was undeniable. The same wounds. The same hair colour. Waking up in the same place. And those same eyes. "I was about to step in a bear trap. You stopped me, but got yourself caught in the process."

The man closed his eyes and nodded like he understood.

Another round of silence followed. There was the distant sound of birds singing in the garden and the sound of a winter breeze blowing outside, but that was it.

"Why did you help me?" The man asked, opening his eyes but not really looking at anything.

"I don't know really." Mycroft answered simply. He had no idea. He'd found a creature in the woods and brought it home. There was no sane explanation for that.

The man smiled and chuckled gently.

"What?" Mycroft asked, very confused by the sudden change in demeanor from the other man.

"You could have at least made something up." The man responded. "Like you felt compelled to help me after I saved you, but no, you just found a wolf in the woods and brought it home." He was still smiling happily to himself.

Mycroft smiled sheepishly. The man had a point. But wait, did he say wolf? So he really was a werewolf? Christ. This was a fine mess Mycroft had got himself into. "So you're a-"

"Werewolf? Yeah. That's what most people call us anyway." The man said, he sounded deflated. His smile had certainly disappeared. Mycroft felt bad for being the cause of it. He wanted to see that smile more, though he wasn't sure why. It lit up the mans whole face and his eyes sparkled like nothing Mycroft had ever seen.

"And I'm only telling you that because you already know, ok? You can't tell anyone." The man said, locking eyes with Mycroft for the first time in a while.

Mycroft could tell how serious he was just from that look. God those eyes. They showed so much emotion. It was almost overwhelming. "Yes, yes of course. I understand."

The man settled again and nodded. "Good." He said simply.

Yet again they went through another round of silence. It seemed heavier than before but it didn't last long.

"Well Mycroft, if you're guarding my darkest secret you should probably at least know my name. I'm Greg Lestrade." The man said, reaching out with his none injured hand and wincing in pain slightly at the sudden movement.

Mycroft shook it. "Nice to meet you Gregory."

Greg smiled again. "I can't remember the last time I was called 'Gregory.'" He said, clear amusement in his tone.

"Would you prefer I didn't?" Mycroft asked, slightly worried he'd offended the other man.

"No, no. Go ahead. I've been called far worse." Greg replied, sighing slightly as if remember a fond memory.

However confused Mycroft may have been he nodded. It was then he remembered the absolute state the other man was in. "Ok Gregory, well, I'll go and get that stuff for you to wash with. I'll be right back." Mycroft said, going to leave.

Greg let him go this time. He rolled onto his back. He couldn't believe the mess he'd got himself into, but, he was glad of it. It was a good kind of mess.