Disclaimer: None of the characters are ours, we just delight in playing with them. Original characters credited to ACD and these incarnations to Moffat and Gatiss.
A/N: This story came about through a chat with a friend via Facebook, you can find her at luvmyangelofmusic. This whole story is a chat in which we were creating, in our minds, how DI Lestrade and Sherlock first met, so although beta'd, some tenses may be a little off. It is set during the five years before the first series of 'Sherlock' is set. We have taken some liberties with certain bits and pieces, but otherwise it is pretty much in keeping with the basics. We've tried to keep Sherlock and Lestrade in character, but some scenes are slightly OOC with the current Sherlock. This is a WIP.
The house was small and derelict. DI Lestrade and his team approached cautiously, the warning had been that the house was occupied by drug addicts. He opened the door and walked forward gun ready.
In the corner was a small huddled figure. He approached it cautiously; the figure was a young boy high, on cocaine by the looks. He was pale and thin with obvious signs of food deprivation and his eyes were partially obscured by a mess of black curls.
Lestrade signaled to his team who came and picked up the boy who, now uncurled, was quite tall and lanky. Lestrade grimaced as he looked at him. The boy's ribs were obvious and his arms showed habitual drug use. Lestrade followed his team as they led the boy out to the ambulance.
He rode in the ambulance with the boy, hoping to gain some information from him. Soon the boy was regaining consciousness.
"What is your name?" Lestrade asked in a calm clear voice.
The boy stared at him, un-focused for a few seconds before replying.
"Sherlock Holmes."
Lestrade watched him as Sherlock suddenly attempted to escape from the bonds holding him to the stretcher. Lestrade swiftly seized him forcing Sherlock back down, "careful there you have to take it easy."
Sherlock eyed him warily.
"Your the DI Lestrade from Scotland Yard." It was not a question.
"You've recently risen to the position. That badge is shiny. Nobody shines badges these days. You have shaving cream behind your left ear, so you live alone and have nobody to point it out."
Lestrade was stunned as he looked at Sherlock.
"How did you know that?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"It was obvious, honestly."
The ambulance pulled up at the hospital and Sherlock was quickly rushed in, leaving a confused and stunned Lestrade in his wake. Lestrade slowly followed him, conflicted. He knew it was his duty as DI to arrest Sherlock… no, Mr. Holmes, for elicit drug use but he couldn't bear to let that mind, that astounding, brilliant mind go to waste. He met up with his team that had raided the house earlier in the evening.
"All in all, three druggies in one night"
Lestrade sighed and let his head fall into his hands. Three people who had thrown their lives away for a simple hit. Lestrade got wearily to his feet and almost unconsciously walked to where Sherlock was being kept. A man who held an umbrella at his side occupied the room; he and Mr. Holmes appeared to be having a row so Lestrade stood awkwardly outside the room trying hard not to eavesdrop.
"Sherlock what do you think you are doing to yourself! Why are you throwing all your gifts, your mind away so carelessly?"
"I am dead Mycroft, I need to feel alive, to stop being bored!"
The man named Mycroft sighed and left twiddling the umbrella. Lestrade walked in, Sherlock was lying propped up in a hospital bed. He seemed almost lost amongst all the fabric. Clothed in only a hospital gown, Lestrade could see how thin his wrists were. Sherlock slowly woke and stared groggily at Lestrade.
"Why are you here?"
"Because I have to be Sherlock."
"You have to arrest me, don't you, when I'm out of here."
"Yes I do I'm sorry."
Sherlock said nothing but stared intently at the ceiling. Lestrade shuffled uncomfortably.
"Look, I think you're actually a good guy Sherlock and I want to help you, do you have any family I can contact?"
At that Sherlock stopped looking at the ceiling and fixed Lestrade with an icy stare.
"I have no family"
"Why did you do this, I know I can see that you're clever, why risk your mind and everything you have for a simple fix?"
"You have no idea what it's like. My mind is like a car speeding out of control, tearing itself to pieces. Cocaine slows it, lets me once again have control."
"Don't you have any other method to control your mind?" Lestrade asks, confused.
"My mind needs puzzles, without them my brain rots"
Sherlock finished dramatically fisting his black curls and flopping back onto his pillows theatrically.
Reviews are more than welcome! More to come soon!
littleredfez & luvmyangelofmusic