CHAPTER 14
Phin sighed as Sherlock kissed him and stayed like that for a few minutes, memorizing every scent, every breath, every tiny movement.
He never wanted to leave.
Sherlock's tongue smoothed over Phin's lips and he twisted his head slightly to gain better access.
Phin kissed him hard and slumped against him. He was exhausted.
Phin exhaled and buried himself in between the arms of his lovers. He fell asleep shortly, his head resting against Sherlock and his arms wrapped around John.
"Um, ok, fair enough. I'm Derek Argent. A hunter for the Authority. I'm here investigating the unusual werewolf attacks here in London. Now can I have some clothes?" Derek shifted nervously. He had no wand, no tools, no weapon. He never felt more, well, naked, in his life.
Garrett gave the man a scathing look.
"No. No you can't. There's nothing for you to see in this flat, so I suggest you leave."
Garrett opened his mouth to say something else, possibly on the subject of the man's suspect formation into man from dog, but he stopped and changed his question.
"Waaait, wait, wait. Who or what is the Authority?"
For good measure, he pointed his wand in between the man's eyes.
The American sighed. "They investigate and deal with unusual supernatural occurrences. When things go bump in the night, we are the ones that bump back." They are the ones who are going to kill me for saying this, that's who they are, you ass hole. He glared at his captor, "So can I go now or are you going to continue threatening my life?"
They investigate and deal with unusual occurrences...
When things go bump in the night, we're the ones that bump back.
Garrett's stomach dropped sharply. The two werewolves in the flat, probably sleeping...
This man wanted something from them. Perhaps their lives. Garrett wasn't going to let that happen.
His brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. He didn't move his wand an inch from the man's face. He looked suitably angry.
Because he was.
"So what. Are you doing. Here."
"I need help. And I know Phin is a werewolf and is investigating the rogue pack in London as well. Now please, can I have some fucking clothes. I'm freezing!" He shivered for emphasis. If this wizard didn't kill him, the cold would.
A few blocks down the way, the young trio was sipping sugar laden coffee, simply happy to be back together.
Albus' eyes roamed the street, taking in all the festive Christmas decorations. He'd had little time to pay attention to the fact that it was holiday; he realized he would need to start shopping for presents. It was only a couple weeks until Christmas.
He hummed happily as he slurped up some of his peppermint white chocolate coffee - Merlin bless Starbucks - and pressed against Lorcan, the twin in the nicer clothes. The romantic one.
As he browsed the nearby shops, half thinking on present ideas and half trying to deduce people, he realized there was someone watching him.
Letting his eyes rove fluidly around, pretending he was still marveling at the festive decorations, he saw her. He observed her as best he could from his peripheral vision.
She was facing the three of them from across the busy street, long hair covering most of her face. She had her hood pulled up.
She lifted a hand and Albus' blood turned to ice.
She was missing most of her index finger, the bandaged nub carefully holding a fag between it and her middle finger.
Albus turned his face up to Lysander, beaming. "I think we should get away from here very quickly," he said. "Down this alley, quicklike, and apparate away, yeah?"
The twins nodded, vaguely concerned. The three began down the alley, and across the street, the woman dropped her fag and went the opposite way.
As soon as they were out of sight from the street, the trio broke into a run. Albus shrieked when a snarl sounded behind them. A quick glance showed a large golden coloured wolf behind them, gaining fast.
He swore it was grinning.
Grabbing his boyfriends' hands, Albus scrunched his eyes closed and apparated.
They landed in the living room of 221B Baker Street in a cacophony of screaming.
Sherlock was stroking Phin's hair softly when multiple people screaming downstairs roused him and John.
He scrambled to throw on a robe, John barely pulling pants up as he grabbed his gun and they ran downstairs.
Phin's eyes were open in a flash at the sound of the screams and he was in a pair of trousers and bolting toward the parlour in seconds.
Albus was crying and shrieking and scrambling backwards, Lorcan and Lysander staring in silent horror as they backed away from the woman writhing on the floor.
Garrett shrieked a bit and jumped, everything about the newcomer forgotten for a split second.
He turned to face the man, mouth open and eyes wide. He drew his wand away from the man and bolted toward the parlour.
He didn't give a damn about the man anymore.
All that mattered was the bleeding, screaming, broken, incomplete being gushing on the floor near Albus.
His knees gave out and he slumped to the floor, gripping the carpet and heaving.
A silent scream escaped his pale lips. A long, extended wheeze.
"Oh God. Oh God. Oh God."
She was screaming and frantically, hysterically, gathering her torn intestines in her hands and trying to shove them back into her torso, her bottom half missing. She twisted on the floor, blood smearing across her naked breasts, trying to pull herself towards Albus, her face contorted in pain, fear, and hate.
She was screaming at him in some strange tongue, harsh and clipped, sounding like she was alternating between begging for his help and threatening his life.
James and Sirius shot up and out of their beds, the horrifying wailing making their blood freeze. They didn't even acknowledge each other as they ran past the bathroom and into the living room, staring at the naked half-woman dragging herself towards Albus.
At the sight of the bleeding, half-torso crawling toward Albus, Phin's eyes widened and his stomach dropped.
She was a wolf.
She was a half. A torso.
And for a split second, she almost had Bittie's eyes.
The green eyed boy's back was pressed against the wall, tears streaming down his face, still shrieking every time she moved closer.
Suddenly a shot rang out and Albus gasped as blood and brain matter splashed across his face.
There was sudden, oppressive silence after the gunshot, John standing firm and staring down at the mutilated half-corpse leaking blood and brain and innards bits all over the rug with a steely gaze.
The crack of John's gun made Phin jump and her blood hit his bare chest and face. He staggered back a bit, stunned.
Then Albus sobbed and James rushed forward, followed by Lorcan, Lysander, and John, the doctor setting his gun down and clearing the other three off to check the twelve year old over.
Sirius leant against the wall behind him, hand rubbing his face. Sherlock examined the body.
Phin felt shaky. His throat was dry and catching as he breathed. He could feel a massive, wrenching panic attack coming, but he stood perfectly still.
His eyes flashed to Remus.
Remus stood in the doorway to the parlour, his shoes lightly spattered with blood. His mouth was slightly parted. He had no words. He merely glanced up to meet Phin's eyes, his brow furrowed.
A slight choked noise escaped his throat.
Sherlock walked over to Albus, crouching behind John and watching his blond lover examine the still shaking boy.
The doctor found no wounds and quickly checked the two blond fourteen year old twins.
Albus looked up at Sherlock and stared.
The detective exhaled and opened his arms, resigned to getting blood all over his robe and person. He hugged his apprentice.
"How do you do it?"
Albus clung to the detective's robe, eyes avoiding the corpse and looking at Phin and Moony and Paddy and Garrett and back to Phin, who looked like he was about to have a panic attack.
He relaxed slightly as Sherlock's deep voice vibrated through his chest.
"You carry on and detach yourself from it. However, I've never had to deal with such a...traumatizing experience."
Albus pulled away from Sherlock and sat on the floor, unsure if he should go clean his face off or not. He wondered if he'd need to give his clothes over as evidence.
Stumbling to his feet, Garrett very calmly withdrew from the group and hurried to the kitchen.
"S'cuse me..."
He vomited into the sink.
Garrett pulled his spinning head from the sink and thanked John when he was handed a small bottle of medicine with relief. He washed his mouth out with water from the sink.
James turned to the twins.
"What happened? And one of you speak and then the other, not the whole finishing each other's sentences."
One nodded, the one in the scruffier clothes. "We came over, we walked to the Starbucks a few blocks away, Albus told us that we needed to go down an alleyway and apparate back here, and then this giant werewolf was on our trail and when Albus apparated she got splinched." The one in nicer clothes nodded in agreement.
Phin's hands were beginning to shake. He kept telling himself to breathe, just breathe, in-out-in-out-in-out, but he calmly took a few steps back to lean against the wall.
The floor was blurry.
Remus bit down on his nausea and went over to his shaking grandson.
"Phineas?"
He put a hand on the man's shoulder.
"S-she's..." Phin swallowed thickly and tried to begin again.
Remus frowned sympathetically and handed Phin his sweater, fixing the collar on his button-down.
"Come on. Let's go outside for a minute."
Phin walked with Remus up to the roof of the flat and lit a cigarette with shaking hands.
He was aware, very aware, of his grandfather's eyes on him, but he let the comforting smoke go in a puff.
Closing off his throat to keep from breathing in the foul smoke, Remus watched Phin tremble and exhale until the dark-haired boy looked up at him with an exhausted growl.
"What."
Remus didn't pull his eyes away.
"You've got to pull yourself together, Phineas."
"Oh, right." Phin flicked the stub away with an air of expertise. "A naked female torso crawling and screaming towards people, bleeding all over the floor, trying to get at ALBUS is supposed to make me chortle and make clever remarks about the fine china."
Remus frowned, his patience tested. Some days, this boy...
"No. But you knew as well as I do what she was."
Phin's dark brows furrowed.
"Yeah... yeah, I do. What should we do about it?"
Remus sighed and watched the darkening clouds above their heads.
"I don't know. She had just changed. This is really beyond me and I'm terrified we're next." His grey eyes met his grandson's hazel. "Which is why it is necessary that we keep our heads."
Phin nodded and Remus knew he understood. Flying off the handle in any way could be incredibly dangerous right now.
"Yeah. I understand."
"Good." Remus patted him on the back. "Let's go back in."
They headed quickly back into the flat.
Phin led the way into the parlour. He gave the dripping torso a grim look.
Remus followed Phin into the sitting room. He kept a close eye on his grandson.
He couldn't pretend he wasn't terrified. So far, the two of them seemed to have escaped the horrors other werewolves seemed to be experiencing, but either way...
Who WAS she? How has she ended up HERE?
Remus stooped while the others talked and closed her eyes gently.
Phin gave Remus a look.
"I'm... er... going outside."
He saw his grandfather's kind eyes as he nodded, and felt his hand on his back.
On the staircase, Phin pulled a cigarette from his pocket, arms trembling slightly from the stress and his eyes turned pointedly away from the shrinking walls.
Remus watched Phin leave the room with a sigh.
He couldn't shake a sudden feeling that something - besides the bloody torso on the floor - was slightly off.
Phin would be okay.
He turned his attention again to the body before him and his brow furrowed.
Derek peered around the corner, tensing when he noticed the body. He exhaled, then stepped forward. "Can I have some clothes please?"
Sherlock turned and took in the sight of the man. "Derek Argent, I presume."
The American nodded, uncertain. "How did you know?"
"I've my ways. However, I'd rather you stay back. I don't trust you near –"
"No, no, I'm not here to hurt Phin. I've been hunting the rogue wolves, just like you."
Sherlock eyed the man, aware of everyone watching him. He opened his mouth to say something but was stopped by the sound of his phone pinging. He pulled his mobile out and opened the text.
We have a problem.
-MH
A figure stood at the end of Baker Street, hands flexing. A ripple of light fur traveled up the arms from the hands and dark eyes flashed golden.
More figures stepped from the shadows, shifting into massive wolves. It was dangerous to be changing this early in the day, but he had taken care of it.
With a wave of his hand, the leader, still in human form, sent the others to set up a perimeter around the street.
Then he began walking towards the only place on the street that matter to him: 221B.
Fur sprouted and subsided more quickly as he became increasingly excited. "The flirting's over, my dears."
Jim Moriarty stood across the street from the door to 221B, waiting in the shadows.
One of them would come out soon enough, and if he was lucky enough, it'd be one of the three lovebirds.