A/N: ...So hey... I'm still alive. I just really lost the motivation to write over the years and only recently has the urge to actually look at this again came to mind. Also, seeing the horrid writing from the previous chapters was horrifying; hopefully the quality gets better from here on out.
Maybe this means that I will update more often? We'll see.
Well, Let me know what you think!
Mycroft walked swiftly and with purpose through the halls of St. Barts hospital towards the ICU. As soon as he had heard of Greg's condition, he called for his driver to come get him from the school, even though it was only barely half way through the school day.
He came up to the information desk where there was a dark skinned woman with a curly head of hair doing paperwork while smacking on a piece of gum. "Excuse me ma'am, but could you please inform me the room number for a Mr. Gregory Lestrade?"
The woman just looked up at him and raised a brow. "Are you immediate family?"
Mycroft shook his head, "No, but I'm his… friend." He had paused there for a moment to consider what Greg really was to him, but now was not the time to be having these internal discussions.
"Then, I'm afraid that I can't let you in. Immediate family only. Sorry, simply following policy." She looked down, bored. Mycroft put on his most charming and diplomatic smile.
"Of course, I understand, miss. You are only doing your job. It's just that Greg is a new student at my school and I'm his only friend so far. I was just hoping to keep him company, even if he remains in his coma. I wouldn't want him to be alone if he woke up though, maybe seeing a friendly face would help him? Perhaps, I could even give his parents a break to rest for a bit, wouldn't you agree?" Throughout his short speech, the woman looked at him and her expression began to soften.
"Well,… I suppose that could be true," she considered. "Ok, I will show you to the room and you can stay if his parents agree. Would that be alright?"
Mycroft, fighting to hide how smug he was at his victory, smiled kindly and nodded.
The woman led him down a few different hallways, which Mycroft committed to memory, stopping in front of room 316. She knocked softly on the door and when there was no answer, she pushed the door open to reveal no one inside except for a figure on the bed, hidden by blankets.
"Hm, they must have gone to lunch," the nurse pondered.
"Perhaps I could stay here until they get back? I could let a doctor know if anything changes," Mycroft assured her.
She seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding and letting him in, casting a sad glance towards the bed before leaving.
All pretenses dropped once she was gone and Mycroft approached the bed. His breath caught when he saw the state that Greg was in. What he had thought to be blankets covering him were actually, for the most part, bandages. His torso was wrapped, as well as his left arm and leg. However, what really caught his attention was Greg's face. Normally, his face was quite ruggedly handsome with a strong jaw line and defined cheekbones. Now his face was covered in scratches and ugly bruising. He seemed to have swelling around his eyes, a split lip, and a bandage on top of his head.
It hurt Mycroft to see him in such a state. He had heard how bad it was from the teachers, but hearing about it and actually seeing it were very different. He reached out a gentle hand and carefully brushed a strand of hair out of his face, almost too scared to tough him for fear of hurting him further.
He sat down in the chair by Greg's side quietly, not taking his eyes off of him. Before he could talk himself out of it, Mycroft reached forward and gently took a hold of Greg's hand. He sat there like that just looking at Greg, reeling about these strange, new feelings.
He must have lost track of time, but eventually he was disturbed by a thin, pale, almost sickly looking woman- presumably Greg's mother. Mycroft easily recognized the similarities between her and Greg, such as their eyes and mouth shape. She wore slacks that were a size too large for her petite frame and a long sleeved blouse. She had a look on her face that seemed as if she knew something, which puzzled him for a moment before he realized that he was still holding Greg's hand. He jumped and swiftly retracted it and she let out a light laugh.
"It's alright, dear. I'm guessing that you are Greg's new… friend?" She smiled kindly.
Mycroft regarded her warily "I suppose that I am. Mycroft Holmes, pleasure to meet you," he held out his hand to shake hers. "Mrs. Lestrade I'm assuming?"
She almost seemed to wince at the mention of her name, but took his hand, "Yes, but you can call me Linda."
He nodded and smiled. "I apologize for popping in unannounced, I can leave if you would like?"
"Oh no, I don't mind at all. It's good that Greg has made a friend already that cares enough to come check on him in the hospital. He needs that," she said softly and came to sit down in the chair opposite Mycroft.
He was about to dispute that, his father's words in his head 'caring is a disadvantage', however, he stopped himself because this wasn't the time for that and he was still conflicted internally about Greg. So, he just nodded and remained silent.
They sat for a good long while as Mycroft stewed over his feelings, unaware that Linda, playing with her sleeve, was watching as his face would change throughout his thinking process. What he also failed to notice was that his hand had at some point made it's way back into Greg's hand.
Time passed in mutual silence and eventually Linda checked the time looking nervous. Mycroft came out of his thoughts and saw her expression.
"Is something wrong, Linda?"
She looked a bit flustered and regretfully. "Oh! No, it's just that my husband should be here to pick me up soon. Mark, he-… I don't know if he would take it well to find you here is all."
He regarded her carefully. "Of course, I understand." Mycroft stood and stretched and was about to leave when she grabbed his sleeve.
"Wait… Will you come back?" She asked quietly. "I'm sorry, but I know that Greg would be pleased if you were here. I think you could be good for him. The only thing is that you just… You have to promise not to be here when his Father is here, ok?" She asked hesitantly.
Mycroft looked at her with an tone of confusion and also concern.
"I'm sorry, it's just that he…" Mycroft could tell that she was fishing for excuses. "He… would prefer it if Greg's visitors were family only. He would be very upset to see you in here," she stammered out and looked down submissively, fiddling again with her sleeve.
Mycroft's blood ran cold at the deductions his mind was making about her behavior. However, he wasn't very surprised; He had suspected, but only needed further evidence to confirm it. Though if there was abuse, he knew he had to tread carefully.
"Very well, Linda. So, when is he normally here?" He asked patiently.
"Well, he usually stays the morning until noon before going to work and picks me up around 5pm… But, you can come during the afternoon!" She said eagerly.
Mycroft smiled reassuringly at her and nodded. "Of course, I will be back tomorrow then. Good night." Linda gave a small smile and with one last look at Greg, Mycroft left the room. He needed to get home; There was much for him to think over.
