Falling: Grey.
Title: Falling: Grey
Characters: Mycroft/Lestrade
Spoilers: None
Rating: PG [So far]
Summary: Lestrade is different.
Disclaimer: I believe I can fly.
A/N: Written by: Ishallsustainamassiveerection.tumblr.com
The Detective fell, crumpling under my hand. He was on his knees, panting and tearing at his shirt.
"Inspector, what is-"
"Shut up. Help. Help me get the shirt off," he growled, a mixture of agony and panic making him twitch and shiver. In
some form of shock and confusion, I knelt down and helped with steady hands to undo the buttons as he ripped at
them. "Move," he muttered.
"You aren't well, let me call someone-"
"No!" his face screwed up with what I could only assume to be pain, and he shook his head violently. I pressed a hand
to his forehead. No fever.
"Get off. Move," he grunted.
"No, I should-"
"Move!" the Detective shouted, shoving me back. I stumbled a little and refrained from moving back over to him.
"Inspector-"
"Shut up."
I watched, silent and wide-eyed as the man convulsed, face contorted in pain and effort. Then, he stilled completely,
body slack, before-
They were huge and absolutely beautiful. They seemingly stretched, folding out to their full span, glinting in the dim
light of the warehouse. Wings. Great silver wings had exploded out of the Detective's back in a flurry of feathers and
bone.
"I-"
"Don't," he shook his head, unsteadily unfolding and standing before me. The wings trailed a little along the floor
before pulling taunt and quivering ever so slightly with the strain. His head was bowed, shoulders inturned and tensed
with the effort of holding the wings up. I could not help but study his form- thick, tight muscles overshadowed by
regimentally straight feathers.
"Are you alright?" I asked, breaking the thick silence. The feathers twitched.
"Bit sore," he barked, fists clenching and unclenching systematically, tendons pulled tight with the effort of standing
balanced. It was quite obviously an understatement.
"Can I... do anything?"
"Double scotch," he smiled grimly and looked up.
I glanced around the empty warehouse, finding only a couple of scummy puddles, "I'm afraid I only serve rainwater and
dirt."
"I'm good, thanks," he gave a short, sharp laugh and the wings stretched, fluttering back into position after a moment.
"Out of curiosity, are they the same colour as your hair for a reason?"
"Yup. They greyed when I did. 'Bout the same time I met your brother," he smiled a little.
^ Part 7>