Epilogue

"You could have been killed." Lestrade snapped at Holmes. Holmes simply shrugged.

"And you would have been." He pointed out. "As it stands, you were still injured, while I escape unscathed."

"That's not the point, Mr. Holmes." Lestrade retorted.

"So Hopkins is cleared, then?" Gregson asked sleepily. He and the lad were both only half conscious from the painkillers Watson had given them.

Bradstreet nodded. "And the gang has been rounded up." He added. "And Lewis is in some serious trouble." He chuckled.

"And you're back on duty." Lestrade stopped trying to argue with Holmes for saving his life long enough to add to Bradstreet's announcements.

"And no one's dead." Bradstreet was delighted with that announcement. "Although we did manage to get three Inspectors injured."

"And nearly killed." Hopkins was feeling awake enough to put in. "We should get a raise."

Gregson snorted. "That'll be the day."

"It's a nice thought, though." Bradstreet conceded.

Lestrade scoffed. "They couldn't afford to keep us." He declared. He scowled at the huge monster of a dog that was trying to lick his hands again. "Sit." He snapped.

The dog sat, and peered at him mournfully for a bit before transferring his attention to Hopkins, who didn't seem to mind the beast's affections.

Watson was going through his notes on the case. "There are a few things that still puzzle me, though." He said.

"Oh?" Holmes looked up. "What things, Watson?"

Watson looked towards the dog. "Well, that, for one thing. Where on earth did that thing come from?"

Hopkins chose to pretend to be out of it rather than try to answer. He had realized by now that what had happened between him and Lestrade that night was not something he would be able to discuss with anyone.

Lestrade considered. "I think it's part wolf." He finally decided.

That was not what the Doctor meant. "But whose is it? Why was it following Hopkins around? And for that matter, where on earth did the lad disappear to? Why did he run?"

Lestrade shrugged with all the ease of someone who had had plenty of practice avoiding thinking about just those things. "I guess there are some things about this case we just weren't meant to know, Doctor." He said.

"But what are you going to do with that thing?" Watson persisted. "It can't stay in London."

"No," Lestrade agreed, "it cannot. Rest assured, Doctor, that I will be getting rid of it as soon as I possibly can."

Watson decided to give up, and refrained from asking just how the man planned on doing that. He wasn't sure he wanted to know anyway.


Disclaimer: Sherlock and the boys do not belong to me.