Though I Walk Through the Valley (35/38)
Though I Walk through the Valley
Title:Though I Walk through the Valley (35/38)Series: Still Waters (Run Deep) (Part II of IV)
Author: melody_in_time
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Through S1 only
Disclaimer: I wish, I wish upon a star... but until that works, not mine and sadly no money made.
Author's Notes: Welcome to almost the end of the story... Time to wrap up the Peter/Jeremy Carson saga once and for all.
Warnings: While I doubt it's likely that any one here has had a family member kidnapped, but if you have this chapter might be a little hard. I've tried to show both sides and how people might react, but never been there myself so...
If you've wondered here by mistake, you may wish to start at Part I of the series, Rarest of the Rare: Chapter 1.
Prologue - Chapter 10 - Chapter 20 - Chapter 30 - Chapter 31 - Chapter 32 - Chapter 33 - Chapter 34 - Chapter 35 - Chapter 36 - Chapter 37 - Chapter 38
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“You coming with us for this?” Greg tapped lightly on the backboard of Sally’s desk to get her attention.
“No, going to go talk to the Shaendal’s. She sighed. “Tell them I can’t prove it, but as far as we know her killer is going to goal on drugs charges.”
“Sure? I can go with you when we get back?” Greg offered.
They’d decided Friday that unless any new leads turned up in relation to Juniae’s murder or Bob’s location Sally’s focus needed to be on the new more active cases they had coming in. Neither of them liked it, but there were no more leads. Greg had no doubt the case would stay in Sally’s bottom drawer to be poured over in her spare time like so many of his cases were in his, but for now all that could be done was to tell her family what they knew.
“No, it’s fine.” She smiled up at him, only slightly forced. “You’re looking smart.”
Knowing what the day had in store Greg had taken the time to dig out his good suit and shave properly that morning. He was wearing a tie, correctly knotted and all.
“Yeah, well.” He saw Mulgrave emerge from his office. “That’s me up. Better go.”
“Lestrade.” Sally called after him, half risen out of her chair. He wheeled around to hear what she had to say. “Just don’t give him a reason, yeah? Don’t stick your neck out over this, promise?”
Greg threw her a mock salute and hurried over to Mulgrave.
It was a long drive to Cambridge.
After their son’s disappearance the Smiths had moved several times, first to Leeds, then Edinburgh, and now to Cambridge. It was a nice house, well-tended with the detritus of use scattered over its yard: a football, a rugby ball, a little toy truck half buried in the mud. Greg had to do a little skip step over an abandoned tennis racket dropped on the path.
The doorbell reverberated through the house for some minutes before the pounding of young feet could be heard converging on the door. Dual high pitched giggles were interrupted by an adult’s rather harried “Just a moment”, and a change of direction of the feet away from their location in an attempt to flee.
It was closer to five minutes before the door was opened. The collar and tag around his neck suggested this was Todd Smith, Peter’s probable Bearer. There was a certain resemblance, despite Todd’s blonde colouring, something along the jaw and the shape of the nose and eyes.
“Todd Smith?” Mulgrave asked.
“Yes, who are - hush, sweetie, I’m busy.” The youngster behind the child gate was kicking up a fuss, watched wide eyed by the toddler next to him.
“DCI Mulgrave, this is DI Lestrade.” They both held out their IDs and watched Todd pale. “Is your partner at home?”
“No, he’s at the college.” Behind him the toddler decided his older brother had the right idea of it and began complaining at the top of his lungs.
“Nothing’s happened, Mr Smith.” Greg broke in quickly, unable to watch the needless stress on the Omega’s face any longer than he had to.
“There’s no trouble. We just wanted to speak to you and your Dom if possible.”
“Thank God. Might I ask what about?” He waved his hand vaguely at the children and the older one went quiet understanding that something was going on, but the younger continued to yell with a cheeky smile on his face.
“When are you expecting him back?” Mugrave politely ignored Todd’s question.
“He has class until two, but-”
“If you could call him and have him come home straight after that it would be perfect. We’ll come back around two thirty.” Mulgrave nodded good bye and started to walk back down the path.
Bloody Beta Doms, Greg thought furiously. All the arrogant need to run rampant over people and none of the protective instincts to balance.
“If you don’t mind.” He smiled charmingly. “Some information has come to light is all and we really would prefer to discuss it with both of you at once.”
“I’ll give him a call.” Todd glanced behind him at the still wailing child. “If you’d excuse me?”
“Of course.” Greg followed Mulgrave down the path and wondered how on Earth they’d make it until two thirty.
It turned out not to be too hard. Greg checked in with Sally while Mulgrave disappeared to hobnob with his local counterparts and network. It was almost no time before they were back knocking on the door.
“Hey, come in. Oi, you!” Todd opened the door, lightly batting aside the questing hand reaching for Mulgrave’s shiny tie pin. “Sorry, he’s at the grabby stage. Stop it, Ian. Do you want a time out?”
The toddler shook his head, eyes wide and innocent.
“It’s okay. How old is he?” Mugrave asked politely.
“Three.” Todd let them through to the kitchen. “Thought I was all done after Alex, then after Rob, and then this little guy came along anyway. Sit down, please. Living room’s just through there. Chris got caught after class with a student, but he called just before you got here to say he was on his way. Tea, coffee, water, juice, strawberry milk?”
They both declined, moving through to the other room. Mulgrave sat in the armchair placed prominently forward.
The young boy from earlier was sitting on a play mat in the corner, picture book in hand, but abandoned in favour of watching the strange arrivals. While it was by no means true all Alphas loved children any more than any other stereotype was, Greg had always held a soft spot for animals, children and assorted needy strays. It was how he had ended up with Sherlock, totally against both their wills.
“What’s your name then?” Greg crouched down to be more of a level with the child who only stared back.
“That’s Robert, surprise number one. Say hello Robbie.” Todd filled a sippy cup and brought it over.
“How old are you then, Robbie?” Greg asked.
Six cautious fingers were held up and then dropped in favour of the cup.
“Is this likely to take long?” Todd straightened from his crouch and plonked Ian next to his brother with a stuffed rabbit. “Only I need to collect Alex from school at three thirty.”
“It might be better if you call someone else.” Mulgrave replied solemnly.
“R-right, I’ll just…”
The door opened, almost lost under the delighted squeals as the two children ran over to greet their Sire, who lifted them both up in the air, mixing their giggles with his own playful roar.
Christopher Smith was the unmistakable source of the brunette hair that ran rife through the family, and when he’d chased the children back to their play mat and looked up it was clear he shared his most-likely-eldest son’s eyes.
“You’re the policemen then. What did you need me home for so urgently?”
Christopher Smith, Greg realised, was utterly unperturbed by two strange Doms in his house, probably because he himself was a very strong Dom.
“Mr Smith-”
“Doctor.” Christopher interrupted Mulgrave, sliding gracefully onto the couch. Todd joined him as Christopher gently nudged Robbie so he went back to the play mat. “Stay there for Mummy and I, okay. Sorry, Detective…?”
“Chief Inspector Mulgrave, this is DI Lestrade, New Scotland Yard. Thank you for your cooperation on such short notice.”
“And what brings the London Metropolitan police up here?” He asked, sitting comfortably while he waited for the answer, a picture of relaxation.
“New information has come to light that may have bearing on your eldest son’s case, and we need a DNA sample to-” Mulgrave began carefully.
The reaction was instantaneous. Christopher stiffened, body pulling taut while Todd let out a choked sob.
“He’s dead, isn’t he? You’ve found his body, God.” Todd jumped up, walking away from the couch. Greg couldn’t see his face, but his hands were raised and shoulders hunched, suggesting he was fighting automatic tears.
“We’ve been expecting that for some time.” Christopher said dully. “After over a decade you don’t hold onto hope.”
“Dr Smith-”
“Mummy, Mummy, what’s wrong?” Robbie’s high pitched voice was panicked, breaking through Mulgrave’s attempt to correct them. “Daddy, why’s Mummy crying?”
Ian watched them with wide eyes, too young to know anything other than something was wrong. The stuffed rabbit’s ear was still in his mouth, but he stopped chewing to watch, holding it’s much abused body tight.
“It’s some bad news about someone Mummy and I-”
“Max!” Robbie’s voice was hysterical as he tugged on Todd’s shirt. “Max is hurt? Mummy, Max is fine. Mummy, Max is fine, yes? Mummy!”
“No, no, sweetie, not Max. Max is fine.” Todd scooped up Robbie holding him close. “Max is fine. Our, uh, eldest joined the army this year.” That was directed at Greg and Mulgrave in a tone that spoke of forced normality and choking grief. “Said he wanted to make a difference. God, he was only a baby the last time-”
“If he wanted to make a difference he should have become a scientist, not gone to shoot people and get killed.” Christopher said shortly. He stood to pick up Ian whose lip was trembling.
“A good friend of mine did multiple tours with the RAMC.” Greg said mildly while they got the young ones under control.
“Doctor?” Christopher asked, shushing Ian and bouncing him a little.
“Trauma surgeon.” Greg nodded.
“That is at least worthwhile, not like those testosterone driven hotheads Max wants to be, but he’s over age, so why listen to me.” Christopher put Ian back down, waggling the rabbit until he grabbed at it. “What’s another dead child?” He continued bitterly, though with a fake smile that Ian responded to rather than the words.
Todd hid his face in Robbie’s hair. “Just stop it Chris, please.”
“Dr Smith, really, you’ve misunderstood.” Greg spoke again. The older genderisms meant he was more likely to be listened to than Mulgrave. “There’s a strong possibility that your son might be alive and we need a DNA match to confirm it’s him.”
The room froze in stunned unbelieving relief. Robbie kept wailing about Max and was Max okay, but Todd was too busy staring at Greg to comfort him.
“You found Jeremy?” He whispered. “Oh God, he’s okay? He’s okay and you’ve found him?”
“Where is he?” Christopher was still standing, making him a formidable figure as he towered over them. “Are you sure?”
“It’s a possibility.” Greg repeated, answering the last question.
“How did you, stop fussing Robbie, how did you find him?” Todd sat back down on the couch.
“A long series of coincidences. Luck.” Greg acknowledged. “It’s not certain, though. We’ll need to do a paternity test to confirm-”
“But?” Todd asked earnestly.
“But he has the same birthmark as Jeremy on his wrist, and we’ve confirmed the Alpha claiming to be his Sire isn’t.” Greg admitted.
“Oh God.” Todd collapsed back on the couch, head falling back as he slumped on the cushions.
Christopher was still straight, still standing, but one hand made its way to his Sub’s hair and then clasped Todd’s hand as he was pulled to sit.
“I need to call Brenda.” Todd tightened his grip on Christopher’s hand and then let go, depositing Robbie in his lap. “She needs to get Alex from school. And David, I’ll call David and he can babysit tonight and I need to pack, suitcase, where did we store the bags-”
He fumbled his mobile out of his pocket, still talking, disconnected footnotes to plans flying from his mouth in a steady stream of consciousness.
“Todd, Todd, sit down love.” Christopher held out a hand. “Just call Brenda. We can’t leave until tomorrow, so we’ll pack first thing tonight, I promise, and we don’t need David.”
“But he’s alive and they’ve found him, he’s okay, Chris.” Todd’s eyes were pleading.
“In the morning.” Christopher promised. “We’ll call my brother, he can take the kids and we’ll go fetch him home from London in the morning. He is in London, yes?”
“If it’s-” Greg tied to put as much emphasis on the ‘if’ as possible.
The pair ignored him, taking it as read that their son was in London. Todd started gushing thanks at Mulgrave, eyes still threatening tears, and Christopher nodded along gently stroking his mate whenever Todd’s emotional pacing brought him within reach. It was around the point they began rearranging bedrooms, Greg had to speak.
“We really,” He spoke firmly to try and get his point noticed, “should wait for the paternity results for all your sakes.”
Three sets of eyes, not counting the children, turned on him.
“We don’t know for sure.” Greg reminded them. “There is a chance that he’s not your son and he’s had a really rough time lately, especially the last couple of weeks since he found out this was a possibility.”
“Couple of weeks?” Christopher’s voice was sharp as he switched his focus from his partner to Greg. “You’re saying you’ve known where our son is for two weeks and you’re only telling us now.”
“The paternity results were only delivered on Friday.” Greg squared his shoulders and unashamedly met Christopher’s gaze.
“But you told him two weeks ago!”
“He needed to know there was a potential for a negative result.” Greg stubbornly remained seated as Christopher rose to his feet, refusing to acknowledge the threat.
“And we didn’t?” The yell filled the room, pressing Greg down into the couch.
The front door slammed open in typical teenage disinterest, bouncing off the wall and marking the plaster. Again.
“Hi Mum, I’m home. Got a lift with Steven”. A tall Alpha slouched into the hall. “He’s gonna swing past later and…”
His voice trailed off as he took in the scene in front of him, Sire standing threateningly over a strange Alpha cop while his younger brother cowered in his Bearer’s tearful arms and Ian sat in terrified silence on the floor hidden behind his bunny.
“What’s happening? Is it Max?” There was a growling edge to his voice as he moved into the room, shoulder instinctively squaring. If he’d been a dog his hackles would have been raised.
“No, Max is fine.” Todd spoke more to Robbie than the new arrival, reassuring the worried child before he could start screaming again. “Conner, can you take your brothers upstairs and call Brenda to get Alex please?”
His voice was remarkably steady, only the slightest hint of emotional distress left. Clearly Todd Smith was an Omega used to dealing with his Alpha family members and knew letting on he was upset would only provoke them all further. Greg supposed that as all his younger children had turned out to be Alpha Doms so far, he’d had a lot of practice.
“But…” Conner was caught between the need to stay and help his Sire against whatever the threat was and the instinct to obey his Bearer and protect the youngsters.
“Do as your mother tells you, Conner.” Christopher growled. He had yet to break eye contact with Greg.
“But-”
“Now!”
Conner moved automatically to take Robert, not even bothering to glower at his Sire over the compulsion.
“Sure?” He asked Todd, kneeling to collect Ian in his other arm.
Todd nodded and tucked Ian’s rabbit under Conner’s arm securely so if Ian dropped it, it wouldn’t fall. Greg thought Conner glared at him as he left the room, but he wasn’t looking away from Christopher to see.
“We had a right to know. He is our son.” Christopher half hissed, half growled.
“He might be your son, and has been through enough and needed time to adjust.” Greg calmly and logically replied.
“And so you made the decision not to tell us, his parents.”
Todd was glaring at Greg from his position on the couch. There was no help coming from there. Mulgrave certainly wasn’t going to defend Greg; he was too busy glaring psychic daggers into Greg’s back.
“You may not be.”
It was a weak argument, but Greg didn’t have much more, not without saying more about Peter than he wanted to.
“You don’t believe that.” Todd spoke with quiet, angry certainty. “You think we are. That’s why you waited for the paternity test to tell us.”
“You’re trying to keep us away from our son. He is ours, not yours.” Christopher spat out each word as if poisoned.
“Then maybe you’d do better to act like it.” Greg spat back. “Think about what’s best for him.”
“What’s best for him is to be back with his family.” Todd leapt to his feet and yelled. Christopher shifted slightly to better cover his Sub, but otherwise kept growling and let him speak.
“As far as he’s concerned I’ve just arrested his family for a list of charges as long as my forearm.” Greg bit back, automatically restraining his tone against the Omega.
“We are his family!” Todd was shaking, fists clenched. He looked ready to try and land one.
“Really? What’s his favourite food? His favourite band?” Greg challenged, voice rising in volume as he tried desperately to get through the instinct and emotion to the intelligence they both clearly had behind. “What’s he studying at uni? What’s his gender? His name?”
“Jeremy!” Todd screamed.
“Peter!” Greg returned. “As far as he is concerned his name is Peter.”
Todd landed heavily on the couch as his legs folded under him, colour draining out of his cheeks.
“Jeremy.” He denied, almost begging.
“Not to him. He’s not three anymore, not your baby boy. He’s got a life, a Dom, half a university degree and seventeen years behind him as Peter.” Greg spoke gently, hoping he was getting through.
“Because you lot failed to find him the first time around.” Christopher accused bitterly.
“A Dom? He’s an Omega?” Todd whispered. “He’s an Omega. Chris, he’s-”
“He’s coming home tomorrow.” Christopher’s tone was final. “I’m not having an Omega son of mine alone. He’ll be safe here.”
“He’s an adult. You can’t-”
“He is a Sub and my son and he is coming home now!” Christopher overrode Greg’s protest.
“You can’t-”
“Enough Lestrade!” Mulgrave barked out, pressing as much Dominance as he had onto Greg. Next to Christopher Smith it was a light sprinkle in the midst of a thunderstorm, but it was enough to interrupt Greg’s arguments with its focus.
“But-”
“Out!” Mulgrave yelled, voice stronger than Dominance.
Greg knew it was stupid, but he made a point of quirking an eyebrow and straightening his tie before letting the command force him out the door, challenging Mulgrave’s control exactly as he would have if he’d been an Alpha Dom. If he’d been a true Dom, walking out would have been truly voluntary, a concession to Rank not Dominance. As an Alpha Sub, his Alpha stubbornness carried him through the motions of faking it before he collapsed on the other side of the door.
Pacing the footpath, Greg fumed helplessly about being stuck outside while Mulgrave pacified the irate Smiths, all without any of them thinking about Peter and what was best for him. He had almost got through to Todd, almost, and now they were just going to drag him here away from what remained of his life to wrap their beloved Jeremy in bubblewrap and smother him until he fled, unable to take anymore. It was all just so selfish.
There was no way he’d be able to go back and tell Peter what happened, what was coming. He doubted he’d be allowed anywhere near Peter again. Really was going to be up to him now, but Greg could do one last thing before the kid was on his own.
He pulled Susan Graylyn’s card out of his wallet.
“Hello?” From the clatter in the background Greg assumed she was out on the street.
“Nurse Graylyn, it’s DI Lestrade.”
“Susan, really, Detective Inspector. Are you at the hospital already? I’m not in for my shift yet, I’m afraid.”
“Ah, no, not quite. The opposite actually. I’m not going to make it in, so I was wondering whether you could give Peter a message from me?”
“Sorry to hear that, but of course. What did you want me to tell him?”
“Thanks.” Greg shifted slightly, trying to work out the best thing to say. “Just let him know to expect visitors and that he’s probably not going to be staying in hospital much longer. And say sorry from me, but there really is nothing more I can do.”
“Sure thing. When should I tell him you’ll be by? Tomorrow?”
“Uh,” Greg winced, knowing she couldn’t see it. “I doubt I’ll be back soon. There are some… other matters that need my attention.”
“I see.” Susan was not a stupid woman. Greg could practically hear the gears turning in her head. “Well I’ll keep this quiet then. No need for everyone to know I turned down your dinner offer.”
“Uh, thanks. That’s sweet of you.” Greg doubted there’d be questions about the call, but it was still sweet to offer. “All the best.”
“You too.”
Mulgrave ended up taking half an hour to emerge, storming out with an expression that promised hell. Greg straightened, responding to the threat. Stubbornness and hard won experience meant he looked over Mulgrave’s shoulder rather than meeting his eye.
“You!” Mulgrave was shaking with rage. “What do you think that was in there?”
“They-”
“Are his parents, Lestrade. They have a right to see their child.”
“He’s a legal adult.” Greg kept his hands at his sides, balled into fists rather than where he wanted them waving around in the air. It put them too close to Mulgrave and made it all too likely he’d do something drastic. “He’s not ready to-”
“You are a detective, Lestrade,” Mulgrave roared, “not a social worker. I don’t give a flying fuck whether the kid’s excited or not, your job is to find him and report it, not tell his parents how to deal with him.”
“They’re-”
“You’re off the case.” Mulgrave continued. “You are not to go near Jeremy Smith or Peter Carson or whatever he’s calling himself now. You will not go near the Smith family, and you are suspended, effective immediately. Do you understand me?”
“What?” Greg yelled, shock letting him meet Mulgrave’s eyes. “Without me-”
“Do you understand me?” Mulgrave pressed, leaning heavily into his Dominance.
“Yes.” Greg choked out bitterly, but no more.
He was an Alpha and would not prostrate himself before this piss weak Beta Dom, no matter what he was trying to get him to do. He had told Mycroft Holmes to shove it. He was not going to kowtow to this idiot.
“Good!” Mulgrave roared. “Warrant card!”
Greg didn’t move, arms crossed defiantly.
“Warrant card!”Mulgrave demanded again, palm outstretched. Face twisted into a sneer, Greg slapped the black leather card wallet onto his DCI’s palm. “Now get the fuck out of my sight. I don’t want to see you anywhere near the Yard, do you hear me?”
“Crystal.” Greg snarled.Monday 6/6/11 9:34 am
To: Gregory Lestrade
Subject: Re:
Gregory,
I do hope John wasn’t too put out by my request for Sherlock, and if he was then I hope it didn’t take it out too much on the messenger. Sherlock has texted me to confirm the results. I can only assume the fact that the request came through you is responsible for the speed of his response, so thank you.
Gregory, I know you’re not particularly taken with the idea of Abernathy, but it’s just a name. It’s really not like it matters what we call him, it won’t change him. And you got to do the nursery, isn’t that enough?
It was rather amusing, but …
MycroftMonday 6/6/11 7:38 pm
To: Mycroft Holmes
Subject:
What the fuck! I’m sorry, I got to do the nursery. I GOT to do it? I’m so sorry Master, what trick would you like me to perform next so I can have say into his haircut? It’s not about whether Abernathy is a good name, it’s about if you and I are raising this child as partners or whether you and your fucked up family are in charge and I get to beg for the occasional scrap. Oh, just let him have a say into his suit jacket, it’ll keep him happy for the next six monts. So what, if they demnad he gets sent away to school as a todler or that it’d look better if your Mum raised him as there’s no Omega here, you’re just going to do it? Doesn’t matter what you and I want, Mummy has decied? Because I don’t give a flying fuck what I have to do, your overbearing family is not getting their claws into my son and giving him the same fucked up abusive childhood you had. I don’t acre if Mummy and Daddy made you feel like a disapointmnet, Mummy and Daddy were fucked up abusive pricks who shouldn’t have ben let anywhere near a child so pull your haed out of your arseand chose a namme for our son o,… I don’t nkow, but or!. Greg’s ringtone blasted unforgiving through his skull. He groaned, reaching to pull the pillow over his head and block out the noise. Doing so brushed his fingers against the headboard and he winced as the light contact aggravated the cuts and bruises on his hands. Flinching Greg hissed, pulling his hands close reflexively.
The phone shut up.
Last night was not high on Greg’s list of pleasant memories. After getting himself home from Cambridge, the email that was waiting from Mycroft… He’d knocked back three scotches before he realised what he was doing and almost thrown the glass at the wall. He’d never been the cop who went home to drink away his problems, but now it was all he ever seemed to do.
The fact that it was Mycroft’s glass and was probably not actually glass and had some fancy name stopped him.
Instead he’d put on his running gear and run and run until he’d passed a 24 hour gym with a guy beating up a punching bag visible through the window. He’d veered inside and beaten a bag and his hands bloody.
It wasn’t quite a hangover, but given his anger over the Smiths and Mulgrave and Mycroft and his goddam job had kept him there until well after midnight even before he defiantly ran all the way home the lack of sleep felt very similar.
His phone blared out its ringtone afresh. Flipping over the screen, caller ID told him it came from the Yard.
Specifically Mulgrave.
“Yes?” He answered, not bothering to put on a bright cheery voice or be polite.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Mulgrave yelled.
Greg pulled the phone away from his head and turned on the speaker.
“At home. I’m suspended, remember.” Greg rolled over onto his back and snarked sarcastically, not bothering to address his superior officer politely.
He’d pay for it later, but he was still too enraged to think through the consequences. Not after being Dommed by Mulgrave, a Beta only middling-low on the scale. Not after he was suspended for doing the right thing.
“Get your fucking arse in here, do you hear me. I want you here five minutes ago.” Mulgrave blasted down the line.
The dial tone was very quiet immediately after.
Growling lightly Greg went through the motions of getting up and dressed, not particularly bothering to hurry. He didn’t dawdle too much, but by the time he walked into the yard in casual trousers and a distinctly non-work shirt he was skating the very edge of insubordination not only as a DI, but as an inferior Dom to a superior, Beta or no.
The stares as he casually strolled through the Yard confirmed that the rumour mill was active as ever. Showing up clearly not dressed for work had probably confirmed at least half the options, though what the content was exactly Greg didn’t know. Probably didn’t want to know either.
He settled for adjusting his aviators.
“Lestrade!” Mulgrave snarled from the doorway to Packenham’s office. “In here, now!”
Taking off his aviators with forced casualness, Greg followed him in.
“Where is he?” Christopher Smith had Greg pinned against the wall before Mulgrave had slammed the door behind him. “What did you do?”
“Christopher!” Todd tugged at his bicep.
“Where is my son?” “Christopher roared.
Greg was glad that Packenham and Mulgrave were having trouble standing upright, both bowed under the weight of Christopher Smith’s force. The only one even semi coping was Todd, and Greg thought his tugging on his mate’s arm might be as much for support as to restrain him.
“I don’t know.” He answered honestly, though he did bare his teeth while doing so. “Locked up at your house I would have thought.”
“Doctor Smith, please sit down.” Packenham straightened his tie, a tell Greg recognised as a Sub trying to regain face.
“Where-”
“Dr Smith I must insist you sit down.” Packenham barked. There was no dominance behind it, no bite.
“Christopher.” Todd’s voice was pleading.
Slowly the iron grip around Greg’s arm and shoulder loosened. As soon as possible Greg shook himself free, taking himself a few steps away from Smith who settled in a chair, Todd locked to his side by an arm around his waist.
“Thank you.” Packenham said politely before seating himself in his own chair.
A hand wave also seated Mulgrave, though Greg was left standing. Fair enough he supposed. He was the one on mock trial.
“Lestrade, where is Jeremy Smith?” Packenham sat calmly with his hands folded on the desk and voice steady. Greg reluctantly had to admire his poise only seconds after being smashed around in the wave of Smith’s dominance.
“At the hospital.” Greg replied. It was a bit more grudging than defiant to his disgust, probably due to the involuntary and entirely unwelcome flash of respect. “The room number is in the files or you could have asked Sergeant Donovan.”
Christopher began shifting in his seat, but Packenham ignored him and held himself still and firm with the weight of his office, rather than his dominance. Todd stroked his Alpha’s hair and tangled his fingers in the base and Christopher settled. Slightly.
“Peter Carson-” Christopher’s growl stopped Packenham, but with a mild look over at the Dom he continued. “The boy registered in the hospital as Peter Carson discharged himself yesterday afternoon.”
“What?” Greg lurched off the wall, relaxed cocky pose falling away.
“He discharged himself against medical advice yesterday afternoon.” Packenham repeated calmly, though slightly louder over the grumble emanating from the Smiths.
“This is not good.” Greg stared at Packenham wide eyed, mind racing as he simultaneously tried to beat himself up for giving Peter the notice he’d used to run and working out where he might have gone.
“This is all because you wanted to keep him. You are not his Alpha!”
“Neither are you!” Greg threw back automatically, trying to think through things as rapidly as possible.
“I am-” Christopher started to say before Greg rounded on him.
“You have no idea how bad this is.” He snarled. “Peter has been in and out of Subdrop constantly for the last two weeks.”
“So he should have been with us where I can stabilise him. His Dom is clearly pathetic.” Christopher returned. Todd kept him sitting by leaning his weight heavily against him, and in his current mood the comfort of having his Omega so close was not something Christopher was going to shake off.
“Oh, because what your son really needs right now is another male family member forcing Dominance on him.” Greg sarcastically “His Dom is doing the right thing and trying to get him to trust him, and you, you…”
He threw his hands up in disgust and stalked over to the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Packenham half rose from his seat.
“To find Peter Carson. Again,” Greg snarled. “Since apparently in the eighteen odd hours I’ve been suspended you’ve managed to lose him.”
He turned and took a step.
“Lestrade!” Packenham called behind him. Reluctantly, Greg turned, sending him the most evil glare he could. “You’ll need this.”
Greg’s warrant card sailed through the air, bouncing off his chest.
“Find him.” Packenham’s order was crisp. “And make it fast.”
~*~“You’ve reached Daniel Hill. I can’t come to the phone right now, so if you leave a message I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks.”
“Daniel, this is DI Lestrade. I need you to call me back as soon as you get this message. It’s important. Thanks.”
~*~
“I told you not to stick your neck out.”
It was the only line Sally had said to him since they got in the car. The rest of the trip had been in stony silence as she refused to even look at him.
Greg didn’t push.
“Sam!” He pounded on the door. “Sam, open up, we need to speak to you.”
“Hang.. on, yeah.” Sam’s voice struggled towards the door. It opened with his t-shirt not yet over his head. “DI Lestrade?”
Greg breezed through the door, knocking the young kid slightly sideways as he barged through.
“Is he here?” Greg swung to face Sam. “Is Peter here?”
“What? No.” Sam looked confused. “He’s at the hospital.”
“Not anymore.” Greg paced restlessly up and down the entryway. “He discharged himself yesterday against medical advice.”
“And? He’s an adult yeah? He can do that.” Sam shuffled his feet, not quite wanting to look defiant in front of an officer he didn’t dislike, but also not sure what he should be saying.
“Yes, but no.” Greg was barely resisting tugging at his own hair. “He’s been skirting Subdrop for two weeks.”
“Oh.” Sam’s eyes were wide. “That’s not good.”
“No,” Greg agreed. “Not good sums it up pretty well, and now I can’t find him.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Sam asked cautiously, “why are you even looking? I mean, it’s bad yeah, but not really a detective’s job given he could leave.”
“Because…What has he told you?” Greg’s foot was jiggling, whether he wanted it to or not.
“Um, that apparently he was adopted or something. He wasn’t really clear. Is that what you mean?” Sam looked down, scrubbing his foot into the carpet.
“Close enough.” Greg conceded. “His birthparents came down for him yesterday, and he wasn’t ready to see them and he apparently ran to get away from them.”
“Still not really a missing persons case…” Sam drifted off quietly.
“No, but given I think it’s better I find him rather than his parents... Right now they’re happy for me to run with it, so I will. His new Sire is bit… controlling.”
“Oh.” Sam started nodding. “Right, not good. With you.”
“Look, if he comes here, try to get him to let me know, or call me, if you have to. I’ll work something out.”
“Yeah, yeah sure.” Sam was nodding so hard his head was possibly going to nod off.
“Good, that’s good.” Greg flew back out the door.
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Part 2
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Title:Though I Walk through the Valley (35/38)Series: Still Waters (Run Deep) (Part II of IV)
Author: melody_in_time
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Through S1 only
Disclaimer: I wish, I wish upon a star... but until that works, not mine and sadly no money made.
Author's Notes: Welcome to almost the end of the story... Time to wrap up the Peter/Jeremy Carson saga once and for all.
Warnings: While I doubt it's likely that any one here has had a family member kidnapped, but if you have this chapter might be a little hard. I've tried to show both sides and how people might react, but never been there myself so...
If you've wondered here by mistake, you may wish to start at Part I of the series, Rarest of the Rare: Chapter 1.
Prologue - Chapter 10 - Chapter 20 - Chapter 30 - Chapter 31 - Chapter 32 - Chapter 33 - Chapter 34 - Chapter 35 - Chapter 36 - Chapter 37 - Chapter 38
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“You coming with us for this?” Greg tapped lightly on the backboard of Sally’s desk to get her attention.
“No, going to go talk to the Shaendal’s. She sighed. “Tell them I can’t prove it, but as far as we know her killer is going to goal on drugs charges.”
“Sure? I can go with you when we get back?” Greg offered.
They’d decided Friday that unless any new leads turned up in relation to Juniae’s murder or Bob’s location Sally’s focus needed to be on the new more active cases they had coming in. Neither of them liked it, but there were no more leads. Greg had no doubt the case would stay in Sally’s bottom drawer to be poured over in her spare time like so many of his cases were in his, but for now all that could be done was to tell her family what they knew.
“No, it’s fine.” She smiled up at him, only slightly forced. “You’re looking smart.”
Knowing what the day had in store Greg had taken the time to dig out his good suit and shave properly that morning. He was wearing a tie, correctly knotted and all.
“Yeah, well.” He saw Mulgrave emerge from his office. “That’s me up. Better go.”
“Lestrade.” Sally called after him, half risen out of her chair. He wheeled around to hear what she had to say. “Just don’t give him a reason, yeah? Don’t stick your neck out over this, promise?”
Greg threw her a mock salute and hurried over to Mulgrave.
It was a long drive to Cambridge.
After their son’s disappearance the Smiths had moved several times, first to Leeds, then Edinburgh, and now to Cambridge. It was a nice house, well-tended with the detritus of use scattered over its yard: a football, a rugby ball, a little toy truck half buried in the mud. Greg had to do a little skip step over an abandoned tennis racket dropped on the path.
The doorbell reverberated through the house for some minutes before the pounding of young feet could be heard converging on the door. Dual high pitched giggles were interrupted by an adult’s rather harried “Just a moment”, and a change of direction of the feet away from their location in an attempt to flee.
It was closer to five minutes before the door was opened. The collar and tag around his neck suggested this was Todd Smith, Peter’s probable Bearer. There was a certain resemblance, despite Todd’s blonde colouring, something along the jaw and the shape of the nose and eyes.
“Todd Smith?” Mulgrave asked.
“Yes, who are - hush, sweetie, I’m busy.” The youngster behind the child gate was kicking up a fuss, watched wide eyed by the toddler next to him.
“DCI Mulgrave, this is DI Lestrade.” They both held out their IDs and watched Todd pale. “Is your partner at home?”
“No, he’s at the college.” Behind him the toddler decided his older brother had the right idea of it and began complaining at the top of his lungs.
“Nothing’s happened, Mr Smith.” Greg broke in quickly, unable to watch the needless stress on the Omega’s face any longer than he had to.
“There’s no trouble. We just wanted to speak to you and your Dom if possible.”
“Thank God. Might I ask what about?” He waved his hand vaguely at the children and the older one went quiet understanding that something was going on, but the younger continued to yell with a cheeky smile on his face.
“When are you expecting him back?” Mugrave politely ignored Todd’s question.
“He has class until two, but-”
“If you could call him and have him come home straight after that it would be perfect. We’ll come back around two thirty.” Mulgrave nodded good bye and started to walk back down the path.
Bloody Beta Doms, Greg thought furiously. All the arrogant need to run rampant over people and none of the protective instincts to balance.
“If you don’t mind.” He smiled charmingly. “Some information has come to light is all and we really would prefer to discuss it with both of you at once.”
“I’ll give him a call.” Todd glanced behind him at the still wailing child. “If you’d excuse me?”
“Of course.” Greg followed Mulgrave down the path and wondered how on Earth they’d make it until two thirty.
It turned out not to be too hard. Greg checked in with Sally while Mulgrave disappeared to hobnob with his local counterparts and network. It was almost no time before they were back knocking on the door.
“Hey, come in. Oi, you!” Todd opened the door, lightly batting aside the questing hand reaching for Mulgrave’s shiny tie pin. “Sorry, he’s at the grabby stage. Stop it, Ian. Do you want a time out?”
The toddler shook his head, eyes wide and innocent.
“It’s okay. How old is he?” Mugrave asked politely.
“Three.” Todd let them through to the kitchen. “Thought I was all done after Alex, then after Rob, and then this little guy came along anyway. Sit down, please. Living room’s just through there. Chris got caught after class with a student, but he called just before you got here to say he was on his way. Tea, coffee, water, juice, strawberry milk?”
They both declined, moving through to the other room. Mulgrave sat in the armchair placed prominently forward.
The young boy from earlier was sitting on a play mat in the corner, picture book in hand, but abandoned in favour of watching the strange arrivals. While it was by no means true all Alphas loved children any more than any other stereotype was, Greg had always held a soft spot for animals, children and assorted needy strays. It was how he had ended up with Sherlock, totally against both their wills.
“What’s your name then?” Greg crouched down to be more of a level with the child who only stared back.
“That’s Robert, surprise number one. Say hello Robbie.” Todd filled a sippy cup and brought it over.
“How old are you then, Robbie?” Greg asked.
Six cautious fingers were held up and then dropped in favour of the cup.
“Is this likely to take long?” Todd straightened from his crouch and plonked Ian next to his brother with a stuffed rabbit. “Only I need to collect Alex from school at three thirty.”
“It might be better if you call someone else.” Mulgrave replied solemnly.
“R-right, I’ll just…”
The door opened, almost lost under the delighted squeals as the two children ran over to greet their Sire, who lifted them both up in the air, mixing their giggles with his own playful roar.
Christopher Smith was the unmistakable source of the brunette hair that ran rife through the family, and when he’d chased the children back to their play mat and looked up it was clear he shared his most-likely-eldest son’s eyes.
“You’re the policemen then. What did you need me home for so urgently?”
Christopher Smith, Greg realised, was utterly unperturbed by two strange Doms in his house, probably because he himself was a very strong Dom.
“Mr Smith-”
“Doctor.” Christopher interrupted Mulgrave, sliding gracefully onto the couch. Todd joined him as Christopher gently nudged Robbie so he went back to the play mat. “Stay there for Mummy and I, okay. Sorry, Detective…?”
“Chief Inspector Mulgrave, this is DI Lestrade, New Scotland Yard. Thank you for your cooperation on such short notice.”
“And what brings the London Metropolitan police up here?” He asked, sitting comfortably while he waited for the answer, a picture of relaxation.
“New information has come to light that may have bearing on your eldest son’s case, and we need a DNA sample to-” Mulgrave began carefully.
The reaction was instantaneous. Christopher stiffened, body pulling taut while Todd let out a choked sob.
“He’s dead, isn’t he? You’ve found his body, God.” Todd jumped up, walking away from the couch. Greg couldn’t see his face, but his hands were raised and shoulders hunched, suggesting he was fighting automatic tears.
“We’ve been expecting that for some time.” Christopher said dully. “After over a decade you don’t hold onto hope.”
“Dr Smith-”
“Mummy, Mummy, what’s wrong?” Robbie’s high pitched voice was panicked, breaking through Mulgrave’s attempt to correct them. “Daddy, why’s Mummy crying?”
Ian watched them with wide eyes, too young to know anything other than something was wrong. The stuffed rabbit’s ear was still in his mouth, but he stopped chewing to watch, holding it’s much abused body tight.
“It’s some bad news about someone Mummy and I-”
“Max!” Robbie’s voice was hysterical as he tugged on Todd’s shirt. “Max is hurt? Mummy, Max is fine. Mummy, Max is fine, yes? Mummy!”
“No, no, sweetie, not Max. Max is fine.” Todd scooped up Robbie holding him close. “Max is fine. Our, uh, eldest joined the army this year.” That was directed at Greg and Mulgrave in a tone that spoke of forced normality and choking grief. “Said he wanted to make a difference. God, he was only a baby the last time-”
“If he wanted to make a difference he should have become a scientist, not gone to shoot people and get killed.” Christopher said shortly. He stood to pick up Ian whose lip was trembling.
“A good friend of mine did multiple tours with the RAMC.” Greg said mildly while they got the young ones under control.
“Doctor?” Christopher asked, shushing Ian and bouncing him a little.
“Trauma surgeon.” Greg nodded.
“That is at least worthwhile, not like those testosterone driven hotheads Max wants to be, but he’s over age, so why listen to me.” Christopher put Ian back down, waggling the rabbit until he grabbed at it. “What’s another dead child?” He continued bitterly, though with a fake smile that Ian responded to rather than the words.
Todd hid his face in Robbie’s hair. “Just stop it Chris, please.”
“Dr Smith, really, you’ve misunderstood.” Greg spoke again. The older genderisms meant he was more likely to be listened to than Mulgrave. “There’s a strong possibility that your son might be alive and we need a DNA match to confirm it’s him.”
The room froze in stunned unbelieving relief. Robbie kept wailing about Max and was Max okay, but Todd was too busy staring at Greg to comfort him.
“You found Jeremy?” He whispered. “Oh God, he’s okay? He’s okay and you’ve found him?”
“Where is he?” Christopher was still standing, making him a formidable figure as he towered over them. “Are you sure?”
“It’s a possibility.” Greg repeated, answering the last question.
“How did you, stop fussing Robbie, how did you find him?” Todd sat back down on the couch.
“A long series of coincidences. Luck.” Greg acknowledged. “It’s not certain, though. We’ll need to do a paternity test to confirm-”
“But?” Todd asked earnestly.
“But he has the same birthmark as Jeremy on his wrist, and we’ve confirmed the Alpha claiming to be his Sire isn’t.” Greg admitted.
“Oh God.” Todd collapsed back on the couch, head falling back as he slumped on the cushions.
Christopher was still straight, still standing, but one hand made its way to his Sub’s hair and then clasped Todd’s hand as he was pulled to sit.
“I need to call Brenda.” Todd tightened his grip on Christopher’s hand and then let go, depositing Robbie in his lap. “She needs to get Alex from school. And David, I’ll call David and he can babysit tonight and I need to pack, suitcase, where did we store the bags-”
He fumbled his mobile out of his pocket, still talking, disconnected footnotes to plans flying from his mouth in a steady stream of consciousness.
“Todd, Todd, sit down love.” Christopher held out a hand. “Just call Brenda. We can’t leave until tomorrow, so we’ll pack first thing tonight, I promise, and we don’t need David.”
“But he’s alive and they’ve found him, he’s okay, Chris.” Todd’s eyes were pleading.
“In the morning.” Christopher promised. “We’ll call my brother, he can take the kids and we’ll go fetch him home from London in the morning. He is in London, yes?”
“If it’s-” Greg tied to put as much emphasis on the ‘if’ as possible.
The pair ignored him, taking it as read that their son was in London. Todd started gushing thanks at Mulgrave, eyes still threatening tears, and Christopher nodded along gently stroking his mate whenever Todd’s emotional pacing brought him within reach. It was around the point they began rearranging bedrooms, Greg had to speak.
“We really,” He spoke firmly to try and get his point noticed, “should wait for the paternity results for all your sakes.”
Three sets of eyes, not counting the children, turned on him.
“We don’t know for sure.” Greg reminded them. “There is a chance that he’s not your son and he’s had a really rough time lately, especially the last couple of weeks since he found out this was a possibility.”
“Couple of weeks?” Christopher’s voice was sharp as he switched his focus from his partner to Greg. “You’re saying you’ve known where our son is for two weeks and you’re only telling us now.”
“The paternity results were only delivered on Friday.” Greg squared his shoulders and unashamedly met Christopher’s gaze.
“But you told him two weeks ago!”
“He needed to know there was a potential for a negative result.” Greg stubbornly remained seated as Christopher rose to his feet, refusing to acknowledge the threat.
“And we didn’t?” The yell filled the room, pressing Greg down into the couch.
The front door slammed open in typical teenage disinterest, bouncing off the wall and marking the plaster. Again.
“Hi Mum, I’m home. Got a lift with Steven”. A tall Alpha slouched into the hall. “He’s gonna swing past later and…”
His voice trailed off as he took in the scene in front of him, Sire standing threateningly over a strange Alpha cop while his younger brother cowered in his Bearer’s tearful arms and Ian sat in terrified silence on the floor hidden behind his bunny.
“What’s happening? Is it Max?” There was a growling edge to his voice as he moved into the room, shoulder instinctively squaring. If he’d been a dog his hackles would have been raised.
“No, Max is fine.” Todd spoke more to Robbie than the new arrival, reassuring the worried child before he could start screaming again. “Conner, can you take your brothers upstairs and call Brenda to get Alex please?”
His voice was remarkably steady, only the slightest hint of emotional distress left. Clearly Todd Smith was an Omega used to dealing with his Alpha family members and knew letting on he was upset would only provoke them all further. Greg supposed that as all his younger children had turned out to be Alpha Doms so far, he’d had a lot of practice.
“But…” Conner was caught between the need to stay and help his Sire against whatever the threat was and the instinct to obey his Bearer and protect the youngsters.
“Do as your mother tells you, Conner.” Christopher growled. He had yet to break eye contact with Greg.
“But-”
“Now!”
Conner moved automatically to take Robert, not even bothering to glower at his Sire over the compulsion.
“Sure?” He asked Todd, kneeling to collect Ian in his other arm.
Todd nodded and tucked Ian’s rabbit under Conner’s arm securely so if Ian dropped it, it wouldn’t fall. Greg thought Conner glared at him as he left the room, but he wasn’t looking away from Christopher to see.
“We had a right to know. He is our son.” Christopher half hissed, half growled.
“He might be your son, and has been through enough and needed time to adjust.” Greg calmly and logically replied.
“And so you made the decision not to tell us, his parents.”
Todd was glaring at Greg from his position on the couch. There was no help coming from there. Mulgrave certainly wasn’t going to defend Greg; he was too busy glaring psychic daggers into Greg’s back.
“You may not be.”
It was a weak argument, but Greg didn’t have much more, not without saying more about Peter than he wanted to.
“You don’t believe that.” Todd spoke with quiet, angry certainty. “You think we are. That’s why you waited for the paternity test to tell us.”
“You’re trying to keep us away from our son. He is ours, not yours.” Christopher spat out each word as if poisoned.
“Then maybe you’d do better to act like it.” Greg spat back. “Think about what’s best for him.”
“What’s best for him is to be back with his family.” Todd leapt to his feet and yelled. Christopher shifted slightly to better cover his Sub, but otherwise kept growling and let him speak.
“As far as he’s concerned I’ve just arrested his family for a list of charges as long as my forearm.” Greg bit back, automatically restraining his tone against the Omega.
“We are his family!” Todd was shaking, fists clenched. He looked ready to try and land one.
“Really? What’s his favourite food? His favourite band?” Greg challenged, voice rising in volume as he tried desperately to get through the instinct and emotion to the intelligence they both clearly had behind. “What’s he studying at uni? What’s his gender? His name?”
“Jeremy!” Todd screamed.
“Peter!” Greg returned. “As far as he is concerned his name is Peter.”
Todd landed heavily on the couch as his legs folded under him, colour draining out of his cheeks.
“Jeremy.” He denied, almost begging.
“Not to him. He’s not three anymore, not your baby boy. He’s got a life, a Dom, half a university degree and seventeen years behind him as Peter.” Greg spoke gently, hoping he was getting through.
“Because you lot failed to find him the first time around.” Christopher accused bitterly.
“A Dom? He’s an Omega?” Todd whispered. “He’s an Omega. Chris, he’s-”
“He’s coming home tomorrow.” Christopher’s tone was final. “I’m not having an Omega son of mine alone. He’ll be safe here.”
“He’s an adult. You can’t-”
“He is a Sub and my son and he is coming home now!” Christopher overrode Greg’s protest.
“You can’t-”
“Enough Lestrade!” Mulgrave barked out, pressing as much Dominance as he had onto Greg. Next to Christopher Smith it was a light sprinkle in the midst of a thunderstorm, but it was enough to interrupt Greg’s arguments with its focus.
“But-”
“Out!” Mulgrave yelled, voice stronger than Dominance.
Greg knew it was stupid, but he made a point of quirking an eyebrow and straightening his tie before letting the command force him out the door, challenging Mulgrave’s control exactly as he would have if he’d been an Alpha Dom. If he’d been a true Dom, walking out would have been truly voluntary, a concession to Rank not Dominance. As an Alpha Sub, his Alpha stubbornness carried him through the motions of faking it before he collapsed on the other side of the door.
Pacing the footpath, Greg fumed helplessly about being stuck outside while Mulgrave pacified the irate Smiths, all without any of them thinking about Peter and what was best for him. He had almost got through to Todd, almost, and now they were just going to drag him here away from what remained of his life to wrap their beloved Jeremy in bubblewrap and smother him until he fled, unable to take anymore. It was all just so selfish.
There was no way he’d be able to go back and tell Peter what happened, what was coming. He doubted he’d be allowed anywhere near Peter again. Really was going to be up to him now, but Greg could do one last thing before the kid was on his own.
He pulled Susan Graylyn’s card out of his wallet.
“Hello?” From the clatter in the background Greg assumed she was out on the street.
“Nurse Graylyn, it’s DI Lestrade.”
“Susan, really, Detective Inspector. Are you at the hospital already? I’m not in for my shift yet, I’m afraid.”
“Ah, no, not quite. The opposite actually. I’m not going to make it in, so I was wondering whether you could give Peter a message from me?”
“Sorry to hear that, but of course. What did you want me to tell him?”
“Thanks.” Greg shifted slightly, trying to work out the best thing to say. “Just let him know to expect visitors and that he’s probably not going to be staying in hospital much longer. And say sorry from me, but there really is nothing more I can do.”
“Sure thing. When should I tell him you’ll be by? Tomorrow?”
“Uh,” Greg winced, knowing she couldn’t see it. “I doubt I’ll be back soon. There are some… other matters that need my attention.”
“I see.” Susan was not a stupid woman. Greg could practically hear the gears turning in her head. “Well I’ll keep this quiet then. No need for everyone to know I turned down your dinner offer.”
“Uh, thanks. That’s sweet of you.” Greg doubted there’d be questions about the call, but it was still sweet to offer. “All the best.”
“You too.”
Mulgrave ended up taking half an hour to emerge, storming out with an expression that promised hell. Greg straightened, responding to the threat. Stubbornness and hard won experience meant he looked over Mulgrave’s shoulder rather than meeting his eye.
“You!” Mulgrave was shaking with rage. “What do you think that was in there?”
“They-”
“Are his parents, Lestrade. They have a right to see their child.”
“He’s a legal adult.” Greg kept his hands at his sides, balled into fists rather than where he wanted them waving around in the air. It put them too close to Mulgrave and made it all too likely he’d do something drastic. “He’s not ready to-”
“You are a detective, Lestrade,” Mulgrave roared, “not a social worker. I don’t give a flying fuck whether the kid’s excited or not, your job is to find him and report it, not tell his parents how to deal with him.”
“They’re-”
“You’re off the case.” Mulgrave continued. “You are not to go near Jeremy Smith or Peter Carson or whatever he’s calling himself now. You will not go near the Smith family, and you are suspended, effective immediately. Do you understand me?”
“What?” Greg yelled, shock letting him meet Mulgrave’s eyes. “Without me-”
“Do you understand me?” Mulgrave pressed, leaning heavily into his Dominance.
“Yes.” Greg choked out bitterly, but no more.
He was an Alpha and would not prostrate himself before this piss weak Beta Dom, no matter what he was trying to get him to do. He had told Mycroft Holmes to shove it. He was not going to kowtow to this idiot.
“Good!” Mulgrave roared. “Warrant card!”
Greg didn’t move, arms crossed defiantly.
“Warrant card!”Mulgrave demanded again, palm outstretched. Face twisted into a sneer, Greg slapped the black leather card wallet onto his DCI’s palm. “Now get the fuck out of my sight. I don’t want to see you anywhere near the Yard, do you hear me?”
“Crystal.” Greg snarled.Monday 6/6/11 9:34 am
To: Gregory Lestrade
Subject: Re:
Gregory,
I do hope John wasn’t too put out by my request for Sherlock, and if he was then I hope it didn’t take it out too much on the messenger. Sherlock has texted me to confirm the results. I can only assume the fact that the request came through you is responsible for the speed of his response, so thank you.
Gregory, I know you’re not particularly taken with the idea of Abernathy, but it’s just a name. It’s really not like it matters what we call him, it won’t change him. And you got to do the nursery, isn’t that enough?
It was rather amusing, but …
MycroftMonday 6/6/11 7:38 pm
To: Mycroft Holmes
Subject:
What the fuck! I’m sorry, I got to do the nursery. I GOT to do it? I’m so sorry Master, what trick would you like me to perform next so I can have say into his haircut? It’s not about whether Abernathy is a good name, it’s about if you and I are raising this child as partners or whether you and your fucked up family are in charge and I get to beg for the occasional scrap. Oh, just let him have a say into his suit jacket, it’ll keep him happy for the next six monts. So what, if they demnad he gets sent away to school as a todler or that it’d look better if your Mum raised him as there’s no Omega here, you’re just going to do it? Doesn’t matter what you and I want, Mummy has decied? Because I don’t give a flying fuck what I have to do, your overbearing family is not getting their claws into my son and giving him the same fucked up abusive childhood you had. I don’t acre if Mummy and Daddy made you feel like a disapointmnet, Mummy and Daddy were fucked up abusive pricks who shouldn’t have ben let anywhere near a child so pull your haed out of your arseand chose a namme for our son o,… I don’t nkow, but or!. Greg’s ringtone blasted unforgiving through his skull. He groaned, reaching to pull the pillow over his head and block out the noise. Doing so brushed his fingers against the headboard and he winced as the light contact aggravated the cuts and bruises on his hands. Flinching Greg hissed, pulling his hands close reflexively.
The phone shut up.
Last night was not high on Greg’s list of pleasant memories. After getting himself home from Cambridge, the email that was waiting from Mycroft… He’d knocked back three scotches before he realised what he was doing and almost thrown the glass at the wall. He’d never been the cop who went home to drink away his problems, but now it was all he ever seemed to do.
The fact that it was Mycroft’s glass and was probably not actually glass and had some fancy name stopped him.
Instead he’d put on his running gear and run and run until he’d passed a 24 hour gym with a guy beating up a punching bag visible through the window. He’d veered inside and beaten a bag and his hands bloody.
It wasn’t quite a hangover, but given his anger over the Smiths and Mulgrave and Mycroft and his goddam job had kept him there until well after midnight even before he defiantly ran all the way home the lack of sleep felt very similar.
His phone blared out its ringtone afresh. Flipping over the screen, caller ID told him it came from the Yard.
Specifically Mulgrave.
“Yes?” He answered, not bothering to put on a bright cheery voice or be polite.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Mulgrave yelled.
Greg pulled the phone away from his head and turned on the speaker.
“At home. I’m suspended, remember.” Greg rolled over onto his back and snarked sarcastically, not bothering to address his superior officer politely.
He’d pay for it later, but he was still too enraged to think through the consequences. Not after being Dommed by Mulgrave, a Beta only middling-low on the scale. Not after he was suspended for doing the right thing.
“Get your fucking arse in here, do you hear me. I want you here five minutes ago.” Mulgrave blasted down the line.
The dial tone was very quiet immediately after.
Growling lightly Greg went through the motions of getting up and dressed, not particularly bothering to hurry. He didn’t dawdle too much, but by the time he walked into the yard in casual trousers and a distinctly non-work shirt he was skating the very edge of insubordination not only as a DI, but as an inferior Dom to a superior, Beta or no.
The stares as he casually strolled through the Yard confirmed that the rumour mill was active as ever. Showing up clearly not dressed for work had probably confirmed at least half the options, though what the content was exactly Greg didn’t know. Probably didn’t want to know either.
He settled for adjusting his aviators.
“Lestrade!” Mulgrave snarled from the doorway to Packenham’s office. “In here, now!”
Taking off his aviators with forced casualness, Greg followed him in.
“Where is he?” Christopher Smith had Greg pinned against the wall before Mulgrave had slammed the door behind him. “What did you do?”
“Christopher!” Todd tugged at his bicep.
“Where is my son?” “Christopher roared.
Greg was glad that Packenham and Mulgrave were having trouble standing upright, both bowed under the weight of Christopher Smith’s force. The only one even semi coping was Todd, and Greg thought his tugging on his mate’s arm might be as much for support as to restrain him.
“I don’t know.” He answered honestly, though he did bare his teeth while doing so. “Locked up at your house I would have thought.”
“Doctor Smith, please sit down.” Packenham straightened his tie, a tell Greg recognised as a Sub trying to regain face.
“Where-”
“Dr Smith I must insist you sit down.” Packenham barked. There was no dominance behind it, no bite.
“Christopher.” Todd’s voice was pleading.
Slowly the iron grip around Greg’s arm and shoulder loosened. As soon as possible Greg shook himself free, taking himself a few steps away from Smith who settled in a chair, Todd locked to his side by an arm around his waist.
“Thank you.” Packenham said politely before seating himself in his own chair.
A hand wave also seated Mulgrave, though Greg was left standing. Fair enough he supposed. He was the one on mock trial.
“Lestrade, where is Jeremy Smith?” Packenham sat calmly with his hands folded on the desk and voice steady. Greg reluctantly had to admire his poise only seconds after being smashed around in the wave of Smith’s dominance.
“At the hospital.” Greg replied. It was a bit more grudging than defiant to his disgust, probably due to the involuntary and entirely unwelcome flash of respect. “The room number is in the files or you could have asked Sergeant Donovan.”
Christopher began shifting in his seat, but Packenham ignored him and held himself still and firm with the weight of his office, rather than his dominance. Todd stroked his Alpha’s hair and tangled his fingers in the base and Christopher settled. Slightly.
“Peter Carson-” Christopher’s growl stopped Packenham, but with a mild look over at the Dom he continued. “The boy registered in the hospital as Peter Carson discharged himself yesterday afternoon.”
“What?” Greg lurched off the wall, relaxed cocky pose falling away.
“He discharged himself against medical advice yesterday afternoon.” Packenham repeated calmly, though slightly louder over the grumble emanating from the Smiths.
“This is not good.” Greg stared at Packenham wide eyed, mind racing as he simultaneously tried to beat himself up for giving Peter the notice he’d used to run and working out where he might have gone.
“This is all because you wanted to keep him. You are not his Alpha!”
“Neither are you!” Greg threw back automatically, trying to think through things as rapidly as possible.
“I am-” Christopher started to say before Greg rounded on him.
“You have no idea how bad this is.” He snarled. “Peter has been in and out of Subdrop constantly for the last two weeks.”
“So he should have been with us where I can stabilise him. His Dom is clearly pathetic.” Christopher returned. Todd kept him sitting by leaning his weight heavily against him, and in his current mood the comfort of having his Omega so close was not something Christopher was going to shake off.
“Oh, because what your son really needs right now is another male family member forcing Dominance on him.” Greg sarcastically “His Dom is doing the right thing and trying to get him to trust him, and you, you…”
He threw his hands up in disgust and stalked over to the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Packenham half rose from his seat.
“To find Peter Carson. Again,” Greg snarled. “Since apparently in the eighteen odd hours I’ve been suspended you’ve managed to lose him.”
He turned and took a step.
“Lestrade!” Packenham called behind him. Reluctantly, Greg turned, sending him the most evil glare he could. “You’ll need this.”
Greg’s warrant card sailed through the air, bouncing off his chest.
“Find him.” Packenham’s order was crisp. “And make it fast.”
~*~“You’ve reached Daniel Hill. I can’t come to the phone right now, so if you leave a message I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks.”
“Daniel, this is DI Lestrade. I need you to call me back as soon as you get this message. It’s important. Thanks.”
~*~
“I told you not to stick your neck out.”
It was the only line Sally had said to him since they got in the car. The rest of the trip had been in stony silence as she refused to even look at him.
Greg didn’t push.
“Sam!” He pounded on the door. “Sam, open up, we need to speak to you.”
“Hang.. on, yeah.” Sam’s voice struggled towards the door. It opened with his t-shirt not yet over his head. “DI Lestrade?”
Greg breezed through the door, knocking the young kid slightly sideways as he barged through.
“Is he here?” Greg swung to face Sam. “Is Peter here?”
“What? No.” Sam looked confused. “He’s at the hospital.”
“Not anymore.” Greg paced restlessly up and down the entryway. “He discharged himself yesterday against medical advice.”
“And? He’s an adult yeah? He can do that.” Sam shuffled his feet, not quite wanting to look defiant in front of an officer he didn’t dislike, but also not sure what he should be saying.
“Yes, but no.” Greg was barely resisting tugging at his own hair. “He’s been skirting Subdrop for two weeks.”
“Oh.” Sam’s eyes were wide. “That’s not good.”
“No,” Greg agreed. “Not good sums it up pretty well, and now I can’t find him.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Sam asked cautiously, “why are you even looking? I mean, it’s bad yeah, but not really a detective’s job given he could leave.”
“Because…What has he told you?” Greg’s foot was jiggling, whether he wanted it to or not.
“Um, that apparently he was adopted or something. He wasn’t really clear. Is that what you mean?” Sam looked down, scrubbing his foot into the carpet.
“Close enough.” Greg conceded. “His birthparents came down for him yesterday, and he wasn’t ready to see them and he apparently ran to get away from them.”
“Still not really a missing persons case…” Sam drifted off quietly.
“No, but given I think it’s better I find him rather than his parents... Right now they’re happy for me to run with it, so I will. His new Sire is bit… controlling.”
“Oh.” Sam started nodding. “Right, not good. With you.”
“Look, if he comes here, try to get him to let me know, or call me, if you have to. I’ll work something out.”
“Yeah, yeah sure.” Sam was nodding so hard his head was possibly going to nod off.
“Good, that’s good.” Greg flew back out the door.
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Part 2
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