Mystrade Oneshots

21) The Creature

There's a second part to this that I might post at some point. Depending on whether people like it or not.

Mycroft Holmes never took a walk in the forest near his house, let alone in the middle of the night. He wasn't sure what compelled him to do so tonight but there he was, alone and cold in the middle of the woods.

He was at peace though. The night was gentle unlike the rush of the day. He was finally alone. Finally happy. Or at least as happy as he could be.

The stars shone brightly above the trees tops and he spent quite a lot of time admiring them. He hadn't been able to appreciate them in years which he cursed himself for now because they were stunning. He reached a clearing and walked around carefully as he gazed towards the sky, trying to reach a good angle to view the stars. He heard a soft noise somewhere close, it was a strangled, pretty sad sounding noise.

Instinct told Mycroft to look for the source of the noise but in the darkness it was hard to do. The noise came again and he felt a sense of urgency wash over him. He could just about make out a figure on the other side of the clearing under a tree. He cautiously moved closer to it, it looked like a wolf. Don't be silly, there are no wolves in England, it must be a dog.

The creature strained itself as Mycroft got closer, made another pained noise and dropped back into place. It moved it's eyes to stare at him but kept it's head still. The noise from before was replaced by a low growl that erupted from deep within the animal.

Mycroft paused and felt the need to reassure the creature that everything was alright. That he wasn't going to hurt it. Illogical, it can't understand me.

It was then he noticed the dark red spilling out of its body and onto the floor around it. Blood? The wound is small, doesn't look like a cut. A gun shot? Surely not...

Mycroft took another step forward and the growling started again, slightly louder this time. He took a few more steps closer and the animal made an attempt to get up, yelped in pain and dropped back down again. Mycroft stopped, apart from being injured and facing a potential predictor he couldn't see any reason for the creature to be so aggressive.

Mycroft was about halfway across the clearing and the moon was directly above him. He took another step forward, the creature growled again, louder this time. It made another attempt to get up and managed to get in a sitting position but it's head hung low. It didn't look very stable, like it could clopase at any moment.

Mycroft felt sorry for the animal. He felt the need to help it. He'd never felt the need to help another person outside of his immediate family, so why did he want to help some random creature in the middle of the woods?

He stepped again and the creature lurched towards him, snapping and growling all the while. A startled Mycroft fell backwards preparing to fend off the inevitable attack that he'd stupidly brought upon himself. But that never happened, instead he just saw the creature skid to a sloppy halt, stumble a bit and fall forwards. It put it's paw out to stop plunging head first into the grass and howled in immense pain as it's leg got caught in the bear trap that had just snapped shut.

You were just trying to warn me?

Mycroft was too shocked to do anything but lay in the damp grass for a minute, staring at the creature in front of him. When it started to sway and stopped making whimpering noises he felt the sudden motivation to sit up and help it. It closed it's eyes and wilted like a flower to the floor. A very heavy flower covered in blood that was. He winced as it hit the floor and quickly removed the bear trap from it's leg.

It weakly opened it's eye to see what Mycroft was doing and to his surprise, it didn't growl, or try to move away, or do anything. It just watched him. Maybe before it was just trying to warn him about the trap he'd almost stepped in. He mustered up the most reassuring smile he could for it before taking another look at the wound he spotted before. That's definietly a gun shot...

He slowly and carefully put his arms under the creature and lifted it up. He had no idea what he was doing but if he left it here it would surely die. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let that happen.

He carried it all the way back to his manor, it seemed to grow weaker by the second. He took it to a small wooden house he had in the garden, to anyone else it would be called a shed but this is Mycroft Holmes we're talking about. He prepared a bed of warm blankets for it and wrapped it's injuries in tight bandages. He didn't know what to do with it but this seemed like the best thing. He made sure there was a bowl of water next to the bed but it was asleep at this point. He stroked his hand across it's head. It looked so peaceful.

He sighed and stood up from where he was kneeling next to the creature. This was crazy. He'd found a wounded animal in the middle of the forest, at night, and brought it home with him.

Caring is not an advantage, and he never had before, but there's a first time for everything.