Fog
by: Ismira Daugene
Chapter 5: Allies
"Sarah?" John spoke into his mobile that he'd been allowed to have back just that morning. It was the day after they had gone out to the registrar and John was supposed to go through his first transformation that night and he figured that he should probably call his work to let them know what had happened and that he wouldn't be back in the foreseeable future.
"John! Where are you? Are you okay?"
"Fine, I'm fine," he halted her. "Just… well, I probably won't be back into work again."
"Of course, how long do you need off? Is it because of that elite that you spilled wine on?"
"Yes it's because of him, and I won't be coming back. I don't think I'll be allowed to. I'm sorry I couldn't give you time to find a new doctor."
"John, what's wrong?" Her voice was full of concern and John remembered why he liked her. She was always concerned about those under her employ, everyone from the new interns all the way to the former army surgeons.
"He… the werewolf elite, he claimed me as his mate. The bonding bite was preformed the morning after the dinner."
There was silence on the line for a moment before Sarah spoke again. "There's nothing you can do?"
"It doesn't seem like it, no."
"John if he's mistreating you, I can help. Somehow I will get you away from him." She was dead serious and John could just imagine her making plans to find and rescue him.
"Sarah, he's… well I don't think that would be a good idea. He's not mistreating me. In fact he's rather protective. Something about his werewolf nature. Besides, do you think he'd allow me to call you if that was the case?" He declined to mention Sherlock's dominant tendencies and his own submissive nature.
"Oh, yes, I suppose. Just… stay in touch, John. If there's anything I can do. Just let me know."
"I will, and thank you, Sarah. Take care." He hung up and let out a sigh as he turned to look out the window of the living room.
"John!" Sherlock's voice came from his room where he'd been all morning, leaving John to take care of himself, something about an experiment. However now he came rushing out as he buttoned up a purple silk shirt. "Get ready to go. Lestrade needs my expertise."
"With what? And who's Lestrade?" John asked confused as he slipped the mobile in his pocket and moved to put on a jacket and shoes.
Sherlock looked up in surprise. "I forgot that I hadn't told you." He didn't pause for long though. "Hurry up, I'll tell you in the cab."
John did as requested and slipped his shoes on before following Sherlock's Belstaff coat out the door and into a cab that he managed to hail on the first try. "So where are we going?" he asked.
"Hackney. There's been a murder."
Sherlock looked positively gleeful about this fact, something that John found slightly disturbing. "Why?" he asked.
"Because I'm a consulting detective. In addition to my own work, I help out Scotland Yard when they're in over their heads, which is almost always. Detective Inspector Lestrade is the only one of the bunch who's semi-competent."
"A consulting detective?"
"Only one in the world. Invented the job myself." Sherlock glanced over at John's skeptical look. "You want proof. Fine. Our cabbie. He's been driving cab for eight years. Worked in one of those tourist curio shops before that, but had to find something with a little more money after his daughter was born. However he divorced his wife about two years ago and she and the daughter moved to Manchester. He continues to pay child support which is why he continues to drive cab even though he'd much prefer to take up cooking professionally."
"That was brilliant," John said after a moment. "Only problem is you can't prove a lick of it without asking him."
"So ask! I'm not wrong." He waved toward the cabbie.
John glanced up at the man wearing a flat cap. He waited till he had pulled over to the curb and was leaning forward to pay when he took notice of a picture of a girl tucked into the console. "That your daughter?" he asked.
"Yeah, lives with her mum in Manchester though. Don't get to see her as much as I'd like," the man smiled as he handed John his change.
John slid out of the cab and gave Sherlock an admiring look. "You were right. About the wife and the daughter at least. Absolutely brilliant."
Sherlock smiled, but didn't say anything more as he strode off toward the police tape flapping in the breeze. John followed behind, but was stopped when a woman wearing a police badge held up a hand. His eyes traveled down her lean form, admiring her toffee skin and dark hazelnut eyes. At one time, she might have been his type. However that thought was dispelled when she spoke. "Hang on, who are you?" she asked in a haughty tone.
"He's with me. He's my bonded mate," Sherlock answered pausing for a moment, a sneer contorting his lips.
"With you? How do you get a mate?" she almost laughed. Turning to John, she asked, "Did he follow you home?" At this she did chuckle a little.
John frowned at the woman. "Is that the way that NSY treats their consultants? No wonder they have such a difficult time tracking down murderers. I imagine the consultants all leave before long," John remarked before glancing over to Sherlock who was giving him a surprised look.
The look morphed into a pleased one, quite like a cat who found a bowl of cream. A possessive hand came up to John's back and gently pushed forward leading him away from the shocked yarder and towards the crime scene. John only had a moment to reflect on what he'd just said (to a police woman, no less) before Sherlock and he were being briefed on the murder scene by a silver haired man in a long dark coat.
"Man in his late thirties. Single. Was found by the maintenance crew who were investigating a rank smell. Works for a dentist's office on Lea Bridge Road. Name's Charles Lindbury."
"Thank you, Lestrade. Now if you'll give me a moment," Sherlock continued forward while Lestrade stayed back a couple of yards. The silver haired man held out an arm to stop John from following. "Likes to do this part alone, he does. I figure he just likes to show off," Lestrade raised a skeptical eyebrow as John watched Sherlock kneel down next to the man sprawled out on the grey carpet of the small three room apartment. John's eyes widened at the dead man before him. There was no obvious cause of death, but that still didn't take away the shock of seeing a dead body. John took a couple of deep breaths and had to put himself into the mind frame of when he was in medical school and they had worked with cadavers.
"So you're his mate, eh?" Lestrade commented, not looking over at John. "I'm Lestrade, by the way. Greg Lestrade."
John looked over at the man. "John Watson. And yeah… I suppose I am now."
"Don't sound too sure about yourself," Lestrade said glancing over.
John shrugged. "Didn't have much of a choice in the matter."
To the doctor's surprise, Lestrade only grinned. "Bit like his brother in that respect then. Only don't tell him I said so. Skin me alive."
"Brother?" John wondered how Lestrade knew the elder Holmes.
"Yeah. Mycroft Holmes. Took one look at me and performed the bonding bite within five hours."
John stared at the silver haired man in shock. Did this kind of thing run in the family? "Before you go getting indignant on my behalf, it happened about six years ago and I made myself perfectly clear on how unhappy I was with him at the time."
"Things have changed then?" John asked taking the next logical step.
Lestrade gave John a small smile. "Yes and no. Being that he's a Dom, I became a sub. Didn't quite sit right with me, being that I was a cop. Mind I was only a sergeant at the time, but that didn't matter. I imagine you're going through something similar?"
John snorted. "Just a bit." There was a few seconds of silence while they watched Sherlock move around the body with his pocket magnifying glass. "Will he always be this way?" John asked quietly.
"Probably, but don't be afraid to tell him what you want," Lestrade gave John a serious look. "Look, I can tell you're a bit unnerved about this whole thing. Why don't we go out for a pint after the full moon? I can answer any questions you have then?"
John nodded and gave Lestrade a small smile. He felt like he'd gained an ally. If Sherlock's brother was anything like Sherlock, then Greg would be someone who could definitely relate and be a sounding board when John became frustrated with Sherlock.
"John!" Sherlock's sharp bark carried through the small room. "Come here."
John gave a weary sigh and Lestrade cast him a sympathetic glance and handed him a pair of latex gloves before John walked over to crouch beside Sherlock. "Tell me what you see," he said indicating the body with one gloved hand.
John focused then, putting his mind firmly in the frame of doctor mode. He pressed the back of his hand against the man's cold skin and peered at his eyes, lifting the eyelid a bit as he did so. His gaze shifted to the spatters of blood on the carpet near the man's mouth. It wasn't much. Not nearly enough to be cause of death. However it gave John an idea and he carefully readjusted his weight so that he could use both hands to palpate the man's neck. Sure enough, there was a spot that didn't feel quite right.
Glancing over at Lestrade who was watching carefully, he asked, "Don't happen to have a forceps do you?"
Lestrade turned to the medical team that was waiting outside in the hall and called out for the item John had asked for. A disgruntled man with longer dark hair trudged in with the forceps. "What do you need this for?" he asked handing the item to John.
"You'll see in a second," he replied. "Sherlock, turn the head just a bit so I can get a good angle."
Sherlock smirked and did as John requested. John thought that he might already know what had happened, but was letting John have his moment. John didn't say anything about it though as he reached down the man's throat with the forceps and searched around a bit before coming in contact with what he knew to be there. It was a bit of a struggle removing the offending item, but eventually John pulled the forceps back out with a simple wooden toothpick clenched between the metal teeth at the end. "This is your killer," he said depositing both forceps and toothpick in an evidence bag that someone had provided.
"Almost an embarrassment having to call me down here for something so simple, Lestrade," Sherlock commented as he rose to his feet. He held a hand out for John, but the man refused and stood by himself, one knee protesting slightly causing him to grimace a little. Sherlock frowned, but didn't say anything. "Next time, observe a bit more before you call. I'm sure even a constable could've seen the empty plate and the box of toothpicks open on the kitchen table. Your victim accidentally killed himself by swallowing the toothpick. It lodged in his throat causing a bleed and for him to choke to death.
"Now if you'll excuse me. Come along, John." With that, Sherlock swept from the room, turning his coat collar up as he did so.
John rolled his eyes, but moved to follow. Lestrade stopped him near the door though. He handed him a card. "Has my number on it. Call or text if you need anything. I know how the Holmeses can get." He glanced over towards where Sherlock had disappeared down the hall. "Good luck with the transformation tonight."
John tucked the card in his pocket and gave Lestrade (Greg, he decided to call him) a grateful smile before hurrying after Sherlock. However what Greg had said suddenly registered and a dull kind of dread settled in his stomach at the thought that he was indeed going to change into a wolf tonight. He almost didn't notice when Sherlock steered him into a cab and slid in beside him, a hand resting on his knee. "It'll be fine, John," he said quietly.
John glanced over at the dark haired detective and tried to give an appreciative smile, but couldn't seem to do it considering that Sherlock was the reason that he was in this predicament in the first place. Instead he simply nodded and went back to staring out the window as they headed back to Baker Street.
Author's Note: Righto, so I know I said I'd do Thursday updates, but Wednesdays I only have one class and I have nothing better to do... except homework. Should definitely be doing homework. ...meh.
So anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter and as always, I highly appreciate any and all comments/reviews you leave. If you're signed in when you leave them I shall endeavor to respond.