Though I Walk Through the Valley (35/38) Part II

Feb 16, 2014 21:32

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

Part I
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“Lestrade, my office!” Packenham’s voice thundered out over the bullpen.

Greg sighed and walked out of his office, heading into Packenham’s. He was getting tired of these daily check-ups.

“Have you found him yet?” Packenham asked in the type of overly reasonable tone that was only ever fake.

“Nothing yet.” Greg reported the same as he had every day.

“It’s been a week.” Packenham’s voice was tight under the enforced control. “The Smiths want you taken off this investigation and I am inclined to give that to them to try and repair some of this force’s image, especially as you aren’t getting anywhere.”

“If they’d listened to me in the first place, he wouldn’t have gone to ground to hide from them.”

Packenham wasn’t the only one who could overly sweeten his voice. Greg could feel a cavity coming on from all the fake sugary goodness being thrown around the room.

“They’re coming in this afternoon, and they are not happy. You have until three o’clock to produce Peter Carson or Jeremy Smith or whatever the fuck the boy is calling himself, otherwise you are off the case, back on suspension and I will not stop them filing charges for interference. Clear?” Packenham smiled pleasantly. It had too many teeth.

“And if I do find Peter, what then?” Greg smiled back, just as pleasantly with just as many teeth.

“You’re back on suspension, your behaviour will be reviewed, and you will probably be off the force anyway, but the Smiths might be less inclined to file charges. Police officers don’t do so well in lock up. Especially not detectives.”

If this was the kind of power play Packenham wanted to run, he really should take lessons. Mycroft could smile so genially you never felt the knife as it plunged between your ribs. Packenham still made it a challenge and a threat.

“Such incentive.” Greg turned and walked out.

Sally glared at him as he emerged. She still wasn’t pleased with the way he’d got himself into trouble. She understood, but forgiveness and approval were not the same thing and she was pissed off at him and for him.

Sadly, this had not been an unusual state of affairs for him lately.

Sally had been working ridiculous levels of overtime to pick up all the slack from Greg’s caseload while he concentrated fully on finding Peter. Unfortunately outside interviewing the medical staff who discharged him, that hadn’t got him far. Peter’s phone was turned off as was Daniel’s, which gave Greg some hope that maybe they’d run away together, though it meant there was no way to trace the signal.

Sam claimed not to know anything and Greg believed him. The poor Sub was frantic with worry, more so than Peter’s other friends who were concerned, but not too stressed, focus stolen from Peter’s disappearance by exams and assignments. Nonetheless, there was nothing Greg could track down to suggest that anyone had assisted Peter in any way.

Greg couldn’t get a warrant, as technically Peter was an adult and had no one to answer to but himself, so he couldn’t look into Peter’s financials and so far his credit card hadn’t been used. He had very few ideas where else to look, certainly nothing that would find Peter by three, and the only reason he was looking as hard as he was was the fact that if he didn’t find Peter, the Yard and the Smiths would find someone else who would.

Even if he did find him, looked like this was his last day in this office. Greg wondered if it would be premature to start packing.

He wasted a couple of hours following up small leads, things that were unlikely to pan out, but all he had. It was methodical work, boring and mindless, but with no grounds for a warrant and so no authorisation to search for Peter’s more personal details it was all he could do.

His phone rang and he answered it mindlessly, mouse clicking on another link while he followed the electronic trail of nothing. “DI Lestrade.”

“Detective Inspector?”

Greg froze and then resumed clicking as naturally as possible, though he wasn’t paying attention to what hyperlinks he was actually following. Hopefully nothing that was going to infect his computer in the long run.

“Peter?”

“Yes, I-”

“Are you okay?”

He sounded breathless and a little lost, but otherwise in good health.

“Yes, I’m well.”

“Good, okay, good.”

“Can we meet?”

Greg fidgeted in his chair a little. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Okay, okay sure. When and where?” Greg took a furtive look out into the bullpen. There wasn’t anyone paying attention to him, so with any luck getting out without being noticed wouldn’t be a problem.

“Um, outside the Yard.”

“Ar-”

“Say, about now?”

“You’re - Jesus. Yep, coming out. I’ll see you in a sec.” Greg grabbed his jacket.

“Thanks. Thanks, I’m round the corner.”

Peter sounded nervous. Greg didn’t blame him.

“I’m heading into the lift.” Greg jammed the button for the ground floor repeatedly.

“Oo-kay.” Greg could imagine the Omega rocking back and forward, heel to toe.

“Almost there.” Greg casually strolled out the door, stopping on the pavement to look both ways trying to see Peter. “Where are you? No wait, I see you.”

Greg hung up and headed over to where Peter was almost bouncing with nerves.

“Hey,” Greg pulled up awkwardly next to the boy, hands thrust into his pocket.

“Hi, can we talk?” Peter was slightly hunched, and his eyes kept darting around the crowd.

“Yeah, yeah.” Greg’s mind flew quickly through a list of places they could get to quickly without looking any more suspicious than they currently were. Already they were drawing considering looks from people passing on the street as well as those going in and out of the yard. “Coffee?”

“There?” Peter frowned as Greg led the way into the Starbucks opposite.

“We’re attracting attention.” Greg pushed gently to direct him into the armchairs situated away from the door. “There’s no official case open on your disappearance, so your photo hasn’t been that widely circulated. I’m hoping, hoping mind you, that no one here will recognise you.”

“Hoping?” It wasn’t quite a squeak.

“You’re an adult and checking out against medical advice isn’t a crime.” Greg smiled what he liked to believe was helpfully. “On the other hand you’re a police witness and a kidnapping victim from a very old case and your Sire is um… very persuasive. Your photo has been circulated round the Yard quite a bit, but it’s not public yet.”

“Not sure I like the sound of yet.” Peter tittered. It had the edge of hysteria.

“Don’t know if you’ve had much access to the news wherever you were, but your case has had quite a bit of media attention.” Greg tried not to study the few officers walking in too suspiciously. To his relief, they barely glanced at him. “Not everything, but the media did get hold of the fact that you’re an Omega and that the Yard arrested your Uncle for trying to kill you. Unfortunately, once they got that, court records are public so everything we’ve charged your Uncle with is available to them.”

“That includes…”

“Yeah, everything.” Greg gave him a sympathetic look. “So far your identity has been supressed in the news, that hasn’t been publicised, and they don’t know whose son you were before you were taken, but everything else is out there.”

“Right, God.” Peter fiddled with his sleeves.

“Do you want a coffee?” Greg asked.

Peter made a jumble of sounds and motions that didn’t seem to mean all that much as he processed things. Greg took that as a yes, more so he had time to process things than because he needed the coffee. Greg also got a selection of pastries and a brownie because Peter looked like he needed both chocolate and something to occupy himself with shredding or he wouldn’t have any fingernails left soon.

“Okay,” Peter said as Greg sat back down, accepting the cardboard cup. “So I’m sort of public news now.”

“Like I said, yes and no. The media haven’t actually said this person is you, if that’s any help.” Peter shook his head. “Yeah didn’t think so.”

“And finding me is not a big case?” Peter looked confused. “Just with all that…”

“Like I said, not really officially a case. Having said that, so far the Yard hasn’t said they’ve lost you so once that comes out…” Greg took a slurp of his coffee rather than continue.

“Thanks for the warning, anyway.” Peter sighed. “Running wasn’t probably the best plan, but…”

“You felt trapped.” Greg nodded. “It’s okay, I know.”

“When Nurse Susan said you weren’t coming back and that they were coming to see me I knew something had happened and I just-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Greg reached over and clasped Peter’s wrist gently. “Really, it’s fine. To be honest, I rather figured that you’d be running away from Cambridge after a few weeks with them. You just jumped the gun a bit.”

Peter let out a dry laugh.

“Tell me about them?” He asked plaintively.

“What would you like to know?” Greg pulled his hand back, wrapping it back around his awful coffee. His tastes really had been spoilt by Mycroft.

“What’re they like?”

“Well, your Sire’s Doctor Christopher Smith. He’s a lecturer at Cambridge, but don’t ask me what. If I knew I’ve forgotten. He’s intelligent, obviously, seemed like quite a good guy before he got his back up about me telling them they couldn’t see you. Having his rather overwrought Sub upset by my refusals probably didn’t help that. He’s a bit possessive, bit controlling, you know, typical strong Alpha Dom. Um, yeah, mostly we didn’t really converse well together. Loves his mate though, that was pretty clear. Pretty sure they’re Bonded.

“Your Bearer’s name is Todd. He looks like you, despite being blonde. He seems quite nice, sweet even, though stubborn as hell. Really strong personality too, though I suppose with that many Alphas in the house you kinda have to be to survive.”

“Other Alphas?” Peter jumped in.

“Yeah, your brothers.”

“I have brothers.” Peter repeated uncertainly.

“Quite a few of them actually.” Greg ticked them off his fingers. “Max, who joined the army. Your Sire didn’t approve of that, but he went anyway. Technically I suppose you’ve met him, he had been born before you were taken, but you’re not going to remember. Conner, he’s in high school. Again, can’t say we really got off on the right foot given what he walked into the middle of. They’re both Alphas.

“Alex was at school, but he’s the next one. I don’t know whether he’s presented or not. I don’t think he’s an Omega though if he has. Just didn’t get that impression. Then there’s Robbie, he’s six. Seems to really miss Max, absolutely scared out of his wits something had happened to his older brother. Felt a bit bad about that actually. Youngest is Ian. He’s cheeky and entirely precocious from what I saw. Has this stuffed rabbit that looks like it’s in the process of being simultaneously loved and chewed to death. He’s three.”

“So I seriously have five brothers.” Peter stared at him in amazement.

“Yep.” Greg confirmed.

“That’s just…” Peter’s fingers had finished with the puff pastry on the Danish and were now idly separating all the flakes of the chocolate croissant. “I’m an only child, but I have five brothers and…”

“I know.” Greg reassured him. “I know. It’s a shock.”

“I just… I don’t know what to do.” Peter looked at him pleadingly. “I don’t know if I want to meet them, I don’t know if I want them to go away and never come near me, I don’t know what they expect, I don’t… I don’t know who I am, let alone who they expect me to be.”

Tears were welling up in Peter’s eyes, not quite trickling down his face, but certainly threatening to.

“It doesn’t matter what they expect.” Greg told him firmly. “You don’t have to do anything for them you don’t want to, and you don’t have to be anyone you don’t want to be. You’re legally an adult, and if you choose to walk away and change your name to David Johnson, then you can.”

“What do they want?” Peter sniffed.

“They want their baby back, Peter.” Greg told him outright. “They want the child that was taken, and it’s going to take them a lot of time to come to grip with the fact that time didn’t freeze for you and you’re not three. Don’t worry about what they want. What do you want?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.” Peter started compulsively shredding the napkin. “I don’t know anything. I thought I could work it out and I haven’t got anywhere and I just don’t know what I want and…”

His chin trembled and one of the tears broke free and ran down his face.

“I want Daniel.” His voice was choked. “I want Daniel.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll call him.” Greg smiled comfortingly, fishing out his phone. “We’ll call him now.”

“He... He might not…” Peter had odd tears running from both eyes now, not quite a steady flow, but more than the occasional one.

“He’ll come.” Greg reassured him. “He’ll come.”

“But…”

“I take it you haven’t talked to him in a bit.” Greg unlocked the screen.

“Not since…” Peter didn’t finish, sniffing into a napkin.

“I thought you might have gone with him.” Greg handed him a new napkin.

“He’s away.” Peter sniffed out. “Bachelor party for one of his banker friends. They’ve been gone a week. He didn’t want to go, tried to cancel weeks ago, but I said he had to and…”

More tears ran down his face, and he started chewing on his lip.

“It’s okay.” Greg gripped Peter’s wrist again in support, kid’s fingers still busy fiddling with everything they could reach, and then set his phone to dial Daniel’s number.

“DI Lestrade, thank Christ you called.” Daniel answered on the first ring. “I’ve just been to the hospital and Peter’s gone and-”

“He’s with me.” Greg interrupted. “We’re at the Starbucks opposite the Yard.”

“Really? Oh Jesus, thank you.” There was a soft thump in the background noise of the phone as Daniel apparently went limp against a wall. “I’m almost at the Yard. I was coming to see you, cause of your message, but then Peter was-”

“Just keep coming. How far away are you?” Greg asked.

“About four blocks.” Daniel started huffing slightly into the phone. Greg’s guess was that he was running.

Peter had stopped the tears, but was still sniffing and shredding whatever was close to his fingers.

“He’s coming.” Greg covered the phone and held it out. “Do you want to speak to him?”

Peter nodded sharply and accepted it in shaking hands. “D-Daniel?”

Evidently the sound of Peter’s voice over the phone had a rather significant effect on Daniel, because Peter didn’t speak again, alternatively smiling weakly and trembling and sniffing into the receiver.

Greg quietly cleaned up the detritus on the table, throwing away the shredded remains of Peter’s nervous compulsion. He considered getting something to actually eat, but the staff behind the counter were giving him strange looks. Looking around carefully on the way back to his seat he noticed they weren’t the only ones, and problematically, a few of them were officers from the Yard.

“Hey, can I just quickly?” He took the phone before Peter had a chance to protest. “Hey, Daniel, yeah you can have him back in a second. When you come in, any chance you can not burst through the door yelling his name? Yeah, thanks. Here.”

Greg passed it back and sat down. True to his word, Daniel didn’t burst through the door less than five minutes later. He walked in calmly, in perfect control, and looked so suspicious that every person in Starbucks was watching him walk over and sit down.

“Peter.” Daniel sat down pulling Peter into a hug.

“I’m sorry.” Peter buried his face in Daniel’s neck. “I’m sorry. I just needed time and I was confused and-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Daniel pulled back. “Peter, please, listen. I don’t care what your name is and it doesn’t change anything about you at all and I love you and that won’t change.”

“I missed you.” Peter whispered. “I missed you so much.”

“Aw.” One of the women on the other side of the shop cooed. “Aren’t they cute.”

Greg sent her a fake smile, more grimace, and turned back to the table. “Hey, you two, if you don’t want the Yard to know you’re here, then we really need to-” The door opened and Dimmock and two sergeants walked in. “Peter, you really need to decide if you’re-”

“Lestrade?” Dimmock caught sight of him and started towards them. “Why are you here? I thought you’d be back at the Yard preparing for the press brief-ing… oh God…” Dimmock’s eyes went wide. “That’s the kid.”

“Yeah, press briefing?” Greg asked.

“Um, about…um, no one told you about the press briefing?” Dimmock kept trying to tear his eyes away from Peter and failed, managing about a microsecond of looking at Greg before back to Peter.

“What press briefing? And why would I be preparing? I’m back on suspension at three.” Greg pressed.

“Um, his press briefing.” Dimmock indicated Peter with his head. “Um, one of the journalists broke ranks and decided that he wasn’t a minor so they could release his name, despite the sex offences. Yard’s having to make a statement in about ten minutes. Haven’t you noticed half the BBC turning up outside? The Smiths arrived twenty minutes ago. They’ve been in with Packenham.”

“Crap, I’ve been concentrating on other things.” Greg ran his fingers backwards through his hair.

“You’re on suspension?” Daniel asked quizzically.

“Yeah, apparently yelling at victim’s families about whether or not hauling arse down to London to see long lost babies when said no longer babies don’t want to see them is not exactly a good idea. Peter, you really need to decide what you’re doing now. If you don’t want to see your family yet, you need to leave now.”

Dimmock made a choked sound that Greg cut off with a sharp wave of his hand.

“What about you?” Peter asked, glancing from Dimmock’s frozen expression to Greg. “That’s going to get you in trouble, if I just leave, yeah?”

“At this stage Peter, pretty sure I’m screwed either way.” Greg calmly told him. “I doubt my, uh, friend will actually let me get prosecuted by your family, so either way worst that’s going to happen is pretty much the same whether you front up or not. So do what you need.”

Dimmock was making a lot of aborted facial twitches and opening and shutting his mouth like he wanted to protest, but didn’t dare in the face of Greg’s shushing.

“I think,” Peter began, looking from Dimmock’s barely contained horror to Greg’s calm acceptance and finally to Daniel’s steady gaze, “that maybe it’s time for me to stop running. After all, everything’s out already now, yeah?”

“You don’t have to do this, Peter.” Greg told him.

“Yes, I do.” Peter shook his head. “I think I’ve run from this long enough and it’s not doing anything. Everyone’s going to know who I am anyway now; time to face it. So,” he took a deep breath and continued with false cheer, “let’s go meet the family, shall we?”

The reporters were all heading into the press room, showing IDs to be let in as their group walked past, Greg trying to subtly hurry them so that they wouldn’t get seen. Dimmock trailed behind, facial spasms aborted though he still hadn’t managed to speak and had been surreptitiously texting when he thought Greg couldn’t see him at the lights. Greg didn’t bother wondering whom.

Peter had slowed as the glass window into the press room approached. Just past it he stopped, despite Greg’s best efforts, and stared through, looking at his face projected up onto the screen behind the desk and microphones. A few of the journalists had film cameras, other photographers testing the light for their digital still shots.

“Peter,” Daniel tugged on him.

Greg turned his head to see Packenham and Mulgrave, both in their good suits with folders striding down the corridor towards them. So far they hadn’t looked up and noticed them, but once they did the milling crowd wouldn’t hide them at all.

“Peter!”

Daniel’s yell spun Greg’s head the other way to see Peter marching determinedly into the press room right up to the front. With his face and name projected up right behind him, there was no mistaking who he was and the camera flashes started going off like lightning. The small group hurried after, but other than standing there to the side, Greg didn’t know what to do. Master of handling the press he was not, but yanking Peter away from the front didn’t seem like the best idea.

“Um, thanks for coming. Not who you were expecting, I know.” Peter seated himself firmly on the chair up the front.

Packenham and Mulgrave walked in the door, identical looks of shock not captured because none of the cameramen were focusing on them. Greg swallowed and looked back at Peter rather than dare run the risk of meeting their gaze when they located him.

“As you’ve all probably worked out, I’m Peter Carson. Or not, as the case may be.” The press were too professionally to laugh, but the cameras and scratching pens made up for the lack of response. “Approximately two and a half months ago the man I thought of as my uncle tried to kill me because I’d worked out that he had murdered an Alpha he thought was interested in me. Despite knowing none of that, not even that I was actually an Omega, and faced with one dead body and one totally unrelated assault victim in a coma, the hardworking detectives at the Yard still managed to piece together what had happened and arrest my uncle.

“Since you’ve undoubtedly all been through the charges filed with the court, you’re probably aware that they managed to uncover a lot more than the fact that he hit me over the head. I um, won’t go into that if you don’t mind. Probably not allowed to as it’s all got to go to court still.

“But that’s not what makes me interesting, or unusual and not why you’re here. You’re here because apparently my name isn’t actually Peter Carson, it’s Jeremy Smith and I was abducted seventeen years ago, a fact that I didn’t know until against all odds my missing persons report came to light. And let’s face it, long lost son reunited with family is a much better story than assault victim wakes up from coma.”

Greg could feel the burning holes in the back of his work suit where Mulgrave and Packenham were trying to incinerate him where he stood. If he was lucky he might live to the end of Peter’s stuttered, halting speech.

“There’s just one more thing I want to say before I go.” Peter continued, still staring resolutely out into the sea of reporters, chin jutting stubbornly forward. “I just wanted to thank Detective Sergeant Donovan and Detective Inspector Lestrade who were in charge of my case. DI Lestrade has gone so far beyond what he had to do for me and I can one hundred per cent honestly say that without him I would not be in front of you today. He was the one whose hard work connected the missing persons report with me, he was the one who took the time to keep me updated with what was going on and tried to help me understand what it meant in terms of, well, this kind of possible mass public exposure, and he’s the one who has done everything in his power to help me cope with it so I could sit here now and speak to you. I owe him so much. Thank you.”

The last words were spoken directly to Greg, and the next thing he knew there were microphones being shoved in his face and camera flashes half blinding him. Greg’s preference would have been to hide behind Dimmock, but that not being an option he settled for hoping he didn’t look too anything in the photos.

“Yes, thank you.” He called out, wading the best he could through the crowd to Peter. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, there’s a family reunion that needs to happen. I’m sure DCI Mulgrave and DCS Packenham will be able to answer any of your questions.”

Grabbing Peter’s arm he navigated them out the best he could, trying to keep the rest of the microphones out of their faces and not fall over any chairs. When they managed to reach where Dimmock and Daniel had been, Greg noticed that Dimmock had already managed to extract the young Alpha and they were waiting outside the door.

“Donovan says his parents are waiting outside Packenham’s office for him to come back from the press conference. They haven’t been told Peter’s here yet.” Dimmock told him once they’d managed to get some distance between them and the journalists.

Greg nodded in acknowledgement.

“You didn’t have to do that, Peter.” He looked worriedly at the kid. “Are you sure that that was-”

“It all would have come out anyway.” Peter shrugged. “Like I said: time to deal. It’s not like I really told them anything they didn’t already know. And this way’s better for you.”

“I hope you still feel that way tomorrow.” Greg sighed in resignation. “Your picture’s going to be everywhere.”

“Already was.” Peter replied stubbornly.

They stepped out into the bullpen to find Sally waiting just by the entrance. Daggers didn’t begin to describe the look she gave Greg, but the expression was softened to a relieved smile for Peter and Daniel.

“This way.” She indicated for their benefit.

There were a few hard plastic chairs outside Packenham’s office for officers to wait in before meetings. Christopher and Todd Smith occupied two of them, Todd’s hand held comfortingly by Christopher as the Omega stared at a rather old looking photograph with big tragic eyes.

Greg was the first around the corner. In retrospect, he wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad.

“What are you doing here?” Christopher Smith clambered straight to his feet. “You haven’t found Jeremy, so what makes you think you can just waltz past - I am going to have you prosecuted for everythi-”

Peter came to a stop beside Greg, out of nerves or in a show of support, Greg wasn’t sure. Christopher’s voice cut off halfway through his rant, as sharply as a carving knife through warm butter. Todd slowly got to shaky feet.

“Jeremy?” He whispered. “Oh, Jeremy, that’s you, oh.”

He took a step towards Peter and stopped when Peter flinched back and away, finishing slightly behind Greg.

“I’m guessing you’re my Bearer.” Peter said. “Todd, DI Lestrade told me.”

“Yeah,” Todd smiled despite looking like he was going to cry. “Yes, I’m your mum.”

“Right, sorry, that’s a bit weird. I mean, I knew some people called their Omega parents mum, but…” Peter wrapped a hand around his own waist. “Yeah, that’s strange.”

There was protracted silence while all the parties studied each other. It was broken by the sound of Packenham and Mulgrave storming down to corridor towards them.

“Lestrade!” Packenham roared. “What on earth do you think you’re playing at?”

“Sir, I-”

“Oh, and you just mystically managed to produce him in time. Are we really supposed to believe that?” Mulgrave looked ready to flay the skin off a tiger, let alone a man.

“Until I spoke to-” Greg realised he’d misspoken when Dr Smith reared up like a serpent ready to strike.

“You called him. You’ve known how to find him all this time.” He hissed. “You’ve been keeping him away and all you had to do-”

“Actually,” Peter slid in smoothly in an icy voice. “I called him.”

There was a sudden silence as the three antagonists were brought up short.

“He didn’t know where I was,” Peter continued, sending his own hostile glare at his Sire. “Not until I contacted him today.”

“You-”

“And the only,” Peter stressed, “reason I am here is because I trusted him enough to make that call so maybe you might want to stop yelling.”

There was a pregnant pause before Christopher continued in a more volume appropriate, though no less menacing, voice. “We should have been informed the moment you were located.”

“If I had thought Mr Lestrade would do that,” Peter parried, “I wouldn’t have called.”

“He is overstepping-”

“He is doing what is best for me!” Peter stepped slightly sideways so he was able to confront his Sire straight on. “Which you can’t even give a damn about. I just woke up from a coma, for God’s sake and had almost everyone I care about arrested.”

Todd made a pained sound.

“My family,” Peter continued viciously, confirming to Greg at least that he had heard the whimper “has just been arrested.”

Todd had turned slightly away from the conversation, visibly wanting to turn and hide from the hurt, but unable to let Peter out of his line of sight even for a second.

“They were not your family.” The rage was bubbling under the words. They had affected Christopher as well. “And you needed to be at home so we could look after you and stabilise your condition-”

“You are not my Alpha!” Peter spat back. He squared his body to make the words a challenge.

“I am your Sire.” Christopher replied slowly and clearly as though talking to a simpleton. “And your Alpha” the word was sneering “is clearly not doing his job if you were in and out of Subdrop.”

“Or maybe,” Peter threw back, “my Alpha was trying to do the right thing and give me space until I was ready. Maybe he was trying do what I asked and understand what I needed, or did it not occur to you that after being sexually abused by my uncle for years, having Dominance forced on me might not be the best idea?”

Christopher Smith’s face blanched and Todd staggered a few steps to the seats. He leant on the back taking shuddering breaths, arm curled over his chest and gripping painfully. Greg made eye contact with Sally and flicked his head towards the mess room. She nodded and headed off to get some water.

“We didn’t…” Christopher swallowed heavily. Greg could see the shock on his face at what exactly his son had been put through, and this, he thought, was without even knowing any details.

“You didn’t ask!” Peter exploded. “Inspector Lestrade tried to tell you and you wouldn’t even let him get the explanation out did you?”

“He was overstepping-”

“He is the only one of the five of you,” Peter threw his hands wide to include the silent Packenham and Mulgrave, “who has given a second thought about what might be best for me, not as a PR stunt or for you!”

“He is not your Sire.” Christopher repeated.

“Neither,” Peter glowered, “are you. You didn’t raise me, you are not my Alpha, you’re just a sperm donor. Now get the fuck out of my sight.”

“You are coming ho-” Christopher made one last ditch frontal assault.

“I am going back to my flat with my flatmate.” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “I am an adult, I don’t have to do anything you say, and you can consider yourself lucky if you ever see me again.”

“Jeremy-” Todd broke in pleadingly.

“My name,” Greg was amazed the hall didn’t freeze over in the face of the glacial tones, “is Peter.”

Daniel moved closer to Peter, as with an irate grunt of pure disgust Christopher Smith stalked past his errant son off down the hall. Todd trailed slowly after.

“I want you in my office, first thing in the morning.” Packenham snarled, before stalking the other way and slamming the door to his office open and closed again in his wake. Mulgrave followed suit and stormed off, presumably to his own office.

“Are you okay?” Greg reached out and put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. He was trembling quite violently.

“No, but I will be.” Peter took Daniel’s hand and pulled him close until his back was tucked up against Daniel’s front. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“You did amazingly.” Daniel kissed his hair. “I couldn’t have done that.”

“I think my knees have…” Peter’s voice trailed off, posture stiffening.

Todd had reappeared at the end of the hall. He nervously took a couple of steps forward. The utter despair and hopelessness made him a heart breaking figure, standing there timidly at the end of the hall. He hadn’t cowered before his mate that way, but in some sense, at that moment Greg thought Peter held more power over Todd Smith than Dr Christopher ever had.

Peter lifted his chin aggressively.

“Peter,” Greg said quietly, “be kind.”

Peter lowered his chin, but his “Yes?” was still quite curt.

“I know you don’t want anything to do with us right now,” Todd replied shakily. “But I just thought that maybe, that you might…” He trailed off and held out his hand.

After a moment’s hesitation Peter accepted the battered photograph.

“Just in case you do one day want something.” Todd gave a watery smile full of dejected acceptance of the situation. “At least this way you have one baby photograph.”

At that moment Greg thought Todd Smith was the bravest person he’d ever met.

The pained bravery must have affected Peter a little too, because he looked down at the photograph of him and Todd smiling in the garden, and flipped it over.

“Todd and Mouse, age two and a half.” He read off the back. “Mouse?”

“Jeremy, Jerry, Mouse. Even then, you already loved cheese.” Todd’s voice wavered, but he pushed through.

Peter nodded without saying anything, turning the photo over again to study the front. Taking it as a dismissal, Todd gave Greg and the other officers a nod, and reluctantly turned to go.

“I still do.” Peter said suddenly, as Todd rounded the corner.

The Omega paused to look back.

“Like cheese.” Peter clarified without looking up. “I just need some time.”

“Take as much as you need.” It cost Todd to say it, but he made the effort. “And some day, if you’re ready, call me?”

“I will.” Peter was still looking down, but from his voice, he was struggling just as much to hold back tears.

Todd hurried off, wiping stray drops from his cheeks as he disappeared from sight.

“Take me home.” Peter whispered to Daniel.

“Yeah, sure.” Daniel tucked an arm around Peter’s waist to hold him close as they walked.

“I’ll show you another exit.” Dimmock offered. “So you won’t have to go past them.”

“They’ll be worse than ever now.” Sally waited until the trio were out of hearing range to speak. Her eyes were dark, almost black in her face where she leant against the wall. “Packenham and Mulgrave. They’ll be out for your blood now.”

Greg sighed and nodded tiredly. “I know.”

“Kid saved your arse. Without him, you’d be out on the street before you could clear your desk.”

“I know.” Greg repeated.

“Any excuse, anything, and they will take you down.”

Greg looked up at her and gave a world weary smile. “I’ll just have to not give them that reason then.”

Sally watched him intently, face unreadable. “We’ll see.”

She pushed off the wall and headed back to her desk without saying anything else. Greg couldn’t say he blamed her.

~*~

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fanfiction, though i walk through the valley, omegaverse, still waters (run deep), bbc!sherlock, mystrade, bdsm, john/sherlock

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