Eliot Grayson

Gray frowned, staring at the kid. “What the fuck did you give me?” Everything was spinning and he was sweating. At the same time, he felt extremely relaxed, but it also scared him. He didn’t do well with drugs. Ever.

Gray nodded. “I won’t.” He said, barely a whisper. The cops came in, guns up and ready. Gray looked over to them and raised his badge. “FBI. Agent Gray. Class E. Jack is a very important eyewitness to a case I’m working. You take him from my side, and I’ll give you all hell.” He stared at the cops, still breathing heavily. They lowered their guns. “Handcuffs.” He looked to the closest cop. “Now.” Gray took the handcuffs from the man and handcuffed his wrist to Jack’s. “Now get me to a hospital.”

“How about a beer and a chat, hm? No one would say no to that. I suggest you don’t, either.”

“Sure. What’s the topic of conversation?”

“WHAT DID YOU GIVE ME?!” In contrast to the first words he spoke, these were booming, anger flooding them as he finally accepted the realisation. He instantly moved his hand onto the table next to him, staggering back into his seat. Dying was an awfully big adventure. However, this was NOT the way he wanted to die. 

There was another gunshot. Different gun. He frowned and moved Jim, putting himself between where he heard the shot come from and Jim. Another shot. Gray gasped, the bullet hitting his side. Another shot. Sebastian. Gray stumbled, only a little, but kept on his feet. It hurt. 

Gray frowned, staring at the kid. “What the fuck did you give me?” Everything was spinning and he was sweating. At the same time, he felt extremely relaxed, but it also scared him. He didn’t do well with drugs. Ever.

Gray didn’t let go of Jack. Instead, he pulled him a little closer. “You won’t make it.” he said, hearing the sirens. He frowned a bit, thinking it over as much as he could. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his FBI badge. “Don’t... panic.” He looked back to Jack. “I can get your freedom. Just... trust me. Okay?” He told him, meeting his eyes. He may be drugged and a bit out of it but when it came to danger he could focus. He sensed the fear in the kid. He knew that feeling. “Trust me.”

“…What is it?”

Gray smiled a bit. “There was a flower in Nam that some guys ate just for fun. Turned out it was a drug and they almost overdosed. After a bit of experimenting we found that chewing the petals got you pretty damn high and made coping with the war a hell of a lot better.” He paused, leaning back. “Unfortunately it was extremely addictive and dropped everyone in a dangerous state of depression. Especially when we weren’t in Nam anymore and none of those flowers are anywhere else. That’s why I chew gum.”

“…What is it?”

“If you say so.” Gray said, pulling out the other pill he had gotten and popping it in his mouth, swallowing and sitting beside Sherlock. “What else is on your list?” He asked, glancing over to him. He took a deep breath. This was weird. The last time he had gotten high was in the war, and now he was doing it with Sherlock. What had his life turned into?

“WHAT DID YOU GIVE ME?!” In contrast to the first words he spoke, these were booming, anger flooding them as he finally accepted the realisation. He instantly moved his hand onto the table next to him, staggering back into his seat. Dying was an awfully big adventure. However, this was NOT the way he wanted to die. 

Gray smiled faintly and reached into his pocket, getting stick of gum and unwrapping it for him. He stuck it in his mouth. “I don’t usually share my gum.” He admitted, getting himself a piece and chewing on it. “You’re the only exception now.” He told him, quietly. Finally they got outside and he could hear the sirens in the distance getting close. Good. “How you feeling?”

“I…” Gray frowned, looking away from Sherlock and at the floor. Something wasn’t right. “Did you…” he looked back to Sherlock before closing his eyes. He felt exhausted. Slowly getting more and more tired. “You drugged me?” He opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock. It reminded him too much of when he was a kid. The fear settling in of what would happen while he was out. Sure, it was only Sherlock, but still.

Gray stood there for a while, thinking it over. His reputation really had been ruined. He could think back on when he was in the FBI and was used as an example to kids. People looked up to him. Even in the army. He was counted on. Depended on. Liked. But now he was hated. An example of what not to be. Friendless. Alone. Empty. And now very depressed. “Unfortunately.” He repeated quietly before starting to leave, pocketing his hands. 

“…What is it?”

“True. But you still trust me.” Gray pulled out a stick of gum and put it in his mouth, chewing it as he watched Sherlock curiously.

“WHAT DID YOU GIVE ME?!” In contrast to the first words he spoke, these were booming, anger flooding them as he finally accepted the realisation. He instantly moved his hand onto the table next to him, staggering back into his seat. Dying was an awfully big adventure. However, this was NOT the way he wanted to die. 

Gray swallowed thickly, an arm wrapping around Jim as he helped him walk through the house to get outside. Say something nice? He sighed. Last words if this went wrong. “For once... I don’t.” There was fear in his voice. He was terrified on the inside. He couldn’t lose Jim. If he lost Jim he lost everything. He needed him. Wanted him. But how did he just say that? “I always knew you’d make me speechless one day. This wasn’t what I had in mind, though.” He tightened his grip. 

“I…” Gray frowned, looking away from Sherlock and at the floor. Something wasn’t right. “Did you…” he looked back to Sherlock before closing his eyes. He felt exhausted. Slowly getting more and more tired. “You drugged me?” He opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock. It reminded him too much of when he was a kid. The fear settling in of what would happen while he was out. Sure, it was only Sherlock, but still.

Gray pulled out a piece of gum and stated chewing, calming himself down. “Because you have every reason to hate me. Despise me. Loathe me. Yet when you punched me that one night, you only did it to a certain extent. You could have done worse. Then you bought me two weeks worth of hotel stay. Just now, you drugged me and then apologized afterward when you saw how it affected me. You’re contradicting yourself.”

“…What is it?”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now. Besides... I thought you already trusted me. To a point. You have more reason to trust me than you do the majority of the drug dealers in this city.”

Gray frowned, staring at the kid. “What the fuck did you give me?” Everything was spinning and he was sweating. At the same time, he felt extremely relaxed, but it also scared him. He didn’t do well with drugs. Ever.

Gray opened his eyes and frowned. This kid was an orphan, too? Well, technically no one would call Gray an orphan at his age, despite the fact that he had lost his parents at twelve. He lazily reached into his pocket to get his phone out. He handed it over, not unlocking it. You could call emergency numbers without unlocking the phone. He watched the kid for a moment before reaching out and grabbing his arm, lightly, but still needing something to hold onto. “What’s your name?”

“I…” Gray frowned, looking away from Sherlock and at the floor. Something wasn’t right. “Did you…” he looked back to Sherlock before closing his eyes. He felt exhausted. Slowly getting more and more tired. “You drugged me?” He opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock. It reminded him too much of when he was a kid. The fear settling in of what would happen while he was out. Sure, it was only Sherlock, but still.

Gray shook his head. “Logically it looks like you can’t decide.” He shrugged. “Then again, I’m no psychologist, and it wouldn’t matter either way.”

“I…” Gray frowned, looking away from Sherlock and at the floor. Something wasn’t right. “Did you…” he looked back to Sherlock before closing his eyes. He felt exhausted. Slowly getting more and more tired. “You drugged me?” He opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock. It reminded him too much of when he was a kid. The fear settling in of what would happen while he was out. Sure, it was only Sherlock, but still.

Gray looked back at Sherlock and shook his head. “You know... I can never tell if you hate me or not anymore. It’s quite annoying.” He looked away from him, standing and running a hand through his hair.

Gray froze in place as soon as he had swallowed. The taste was wrong. There was a burning sensation left in his throat. He frowned and coughed, and then he realized. Poison. He had just been poisoned. He dropped the cup instantly, flinching as it hit the floor and the rest of it spilled out. Shit. He had hoped to go out shooting and fighting. Not like this.

Gray sat down and gripped onto the chair tightly, as if letting it go meant dying instantly. He looked to Sherlock at the question, lingering there for a moment, and then turning away. “Not to my knowledge.” he said quietly. He let go of the chair with one hand and put two fingers to his neck, checking his heart rate. It was slowing down. Which meant he had swallowed a larger dose than he thought. He lowered his hand and bowed his head a little, taking a deep breath. His eyes felt heavy. He felt weak. “Sherlock...” He started, but couldn’t finish.

“…What is it?”

“It’s called Molly. Its makes you about as high as mixing some of the drugs you’ve done but without the dangers of mixing. Harmless in that dose. Just... don’t mix with it.”