A Truly Angelic Gentleman

Chapter 3: Clarifications

"Next question?"

Greg shook his head before speaking. "How the hell did you do that?" Mycroft's brow quirked as he sent him a sarcastic look.

"How do you think?"

"I don't know… 'Godly magic' or something?" Greg answered nervously.

"Precisely." Mycroft replied. Greg ran a hand over his face. "Sure, obviously." He groaned, flopping back into his seat. "Okay… aren't angels supposed to be seen only by the people they're 'guarding'?"

Mycroft chuckled at this. It was a melodious sound that shocked Greg, but he liked the way it sounded. "Another common misconception. We've noticed that your society tends not to look too kindly upon people who appear to be speaking to someone that 'isn't there'."

Greg nodded, understanding his point. Most people who did something like that were labeled as schizophrenic or something of the like. He turned to face Mycroft.

"Okay. But why now? Why bother showing up now? Don't angels show up when someone is in need of a reality check or something?" Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"It seems that you get most of your ideas of angels from films. Honestly, it is bordering on imbecilic." He ignored Greg's harsh glare and paused, trying to think of a… softer way of explaining to him. "Gregory, did you know John before you met him with Sherlock?"

Greg shook his head. "No. First time I met him. Why?" Mycroft sighed, his expression saddening slightly.

"When John first returned from his military service in Afghanistan, he was growing more and more depressed. Sherlock insisted that we send him." Greg still looked confused. "If we hadn't sent Sherlock, John was going to kill himself."

Greg was surprised, to say the least. John always seemed at least mildly cheerful when they talked. He had never seen John upset or sad, let alone depressed. However, these thoughts of John were short-lived when he realized what Mycroft was trying to convey.

"I'm going to die!?" Greg shot up from his seat in horror. He had always known that being on the force meant there was a chance of that happening, but knowing that it's going to happen is terrifying. Mycroft looked up at the unsettled man.

"Not as long as I'm here. I'm not going to let it happen." Mycroft's eyes following Greg as he paced about the room.

"Well… how then? How am I supposed to die that you're going to save me from, hmm? Thief, murderer, what!? Or am I just going to be so panicked from it all that I'm going to kill myself!?" He ran his fingers through his hair again, nervously.

"Gregory, you believe in God, yes?" Greg turned his head towards Mycroft, puzzled by the question.

"Well, yeah. I guess, especially now, considering YOU are here, but what of it?" Mycroft frowned tiredly.

"So you believe in heaven and hell?" Greg didn't like where this was going.

"Yeah…"

"Gregory, demons can guard people just as much as angels can. It all depends on who reaches the person first. Usually, we are able to take care of them, having an angel reach the person first. However…" Mycroft drummed his fingers against his umbrella tensely, "There was one we weren't able to beat."

Greg's eyes widened slightly. "So… a demon's going to… kill me?"

"As I've said, no. Not as long as I'm here. I'm not going to lie, Gregory. This demon is very clever and is going to get a man to kill so many people, including you, if we don't kill them as soon as possible."

"So you're asking me to kill a demon for you?"

Mycroft heaved a sigh, shaking his head, "No. I'm likely going to have to be the one to do that. I'm here to assist you. You are likely going to start finding murders popping up all over London soon and now you'll know why. I just need you to investigate and not rule out something like this, no matter how ridiculous it may sound to you. You care about this country, I can tell, and I know you'll want to stop this."

Greg stared at the angel. His thoughts were racing and his head ached with this new information. He wasn't quite sure how to react.

"Alright, alright. I'll help." He muttered, leaning his back against the wall. Mycroft's features softened, almost appearing relieved. "Just… try to… protect me, I guess."

"Trust me, Detective Inspector. You are my first priority."