fanfic - sherlockbbc
Title: A Lesson From Bohemia
Chapter: 07/08
Betas/Brits: None! But if you want let me know! <3
Rating: PG:13 (R later chapters)
Pairings: MH/GL, SH/JW
Warnings: Character Death, M/M
Disclaimer: This story is based off of this prompt from the kink meme. Will eventually contain mentions of child abuse, gay sex, violence and whumpage.
01 02 03 04 05 06
XXX
Chapter 07
XXX
“Yeah- Sherlock! What’s going on?” Lestrade got up and moved to XXX
Chapter 07
XXX
“Yeah- Sherlock! What’s going on?” Lestrade got up and moved to Sherlock. Esmond was looking at his Uncle, shocked. “Whose blood is that?”
“Mycroft’s been shot.” Sherlock’s mouth was in a tight thin line and he looked pale. Lestrade touched his shoulder gently but Sherlock shook it off with a shrug and went over to Esmond.
“What happened to Da?” Esmond asked his Uncle as Sherlock helped him out of the bed. “Where are we going? Is he okay?”
“I’m sorry Esmond you have to come with me.” Lestrade almost jumped as Mycroft’s secretary appeared beside him. Her right wrist was in a cast and her expression serious. Sherlock froze and Esmond shook his head.
“No! I want my Da! Where is he?” The small boy pulled away from Sherlock angrily.
“Esmond you have to.” Sherlock tried to grab Esmond again but the boy moved to hide behind Lestrade.
“No! Where’s Da!? He’s dead, isn’t he?” Esmond cried and Lestrade looked up at Sherlock not knowing what to do. It couldn’t be true. Mycroft couldn’t be dead.
“He’s not dead.” The woman John called Anthea spoke up giving Sherlock a firm look before looking over at Esmond. “He isn’t dead Esmond.” She knelt slightly and Lestrade watched her transform from soldier to mother so quickly he blinked a few times. It still didn’t beat the feeling of flat relief that came over him from those words.
“I want to see him.” The boy mumbled holding onto Lestrade’s leg.
“You can’t right now.” Anthea spoke softly. “But your Da gave me an order to protect you. I have to obey orders. You understand this, right?” Esmond’s grip tightened on Lestrade’s leg. The Detective Inspector looked over at Sherlock who was staring at the floor so he looked back at the woman who was watching Esmond.
He looked back at the blood stains on Sherlock’s shirt. Mycroft wasn’t dead. He was shot. But Esmond couldn’t see him; in fact they wanted to move Esmond to a safe location. So it didn’t look good. Mycroft wasn’t dead … yet. Lestrade’s throat felt tight. He looked behind him and put a hand on Esmond’s head causing the boy to look up at him teary eyed.
“Esmond you should go with her.” Esmond was about the shake his head and protest but Lestrade smiled at him. “Go with her like your Da wanted and I’ll go check on him for you.” Esmond looked up at him frowning.
“I’ll give him my number so he can call me.” Anthea smiled at Esmond causing him to look at her. The boy reluctantly let go of Lestrade’s legs and looked up at Sherlock who just nodded, so he walked over to Anthea and took her hand. She smiled and stood up handing Lestrade a card with her injured hand which he took.
“I will call.” Lestrade he offered a wary smile as he looked at Esmond. “Promise.”
“Good luck.” Anthea glanced at Sherlock before leaving.
“Sherlock.” Lestrade stopped the other man from following them out of the room. Silver eyes met his. “How can I help?”
“You should be resting.” Sherlock pulled from his hold and left the room but Lestrade followed after him.
“Fuck that.” Lestrade stopped Sherlock again.
“You have a promise to keep Lestrade.” Sherlock glared at him flicking the card in Lestrade’s hand. “And so do I.”
“Mr. Lestrade!” Greg turned as a nurse came up to him. “What are you doing out of your room? I’ve been looking for you.” He blinked at her before turning to look at Sherlock again but the other man was already gone.
“I’m sure you have people that need that room more than I do.” Lestrade sighed at the nurse, “Wait I need to know about someone else! A man was shot … is he here?”
“Your friend is in surgery.” The nurse frowned. “Let me release you properly and you can go to the waiting room but … it doesn’t look good.”
Lestrade closed his eyes. “Where was he shot?”
“I don’t know all the details.” His nurse admitted. “Do you want me to-?”
“No, just get me my clothes and show me where I can find out.” Lestrade hoped he sounded calm.
XXX
Shot in the chest, too close to the heart. Lestrade buried his face in his hands. Shot in the chest and four hours later still in surgery. They had almost lost him twice but he was fighting. He looked up as a man coughed. It was one of the men in suits that had been walking around the hospital, he had a cup of coffee.
“Thanks?” Lestrade took it hesitantly. The man just nodded, patted Lestrade on the shoulder and then continued his way. The Detective Inspector blinked a few times watching the man leave before taking a sip.
Well that was bloody weird, he almost wanted to laugh about it. Except, he looked up at the nurses’ station, he couldn’t even bring himself to smile at a time like this.
All he could think about was Mycroft. Would he make it? What would happen if he didn’t? What about Esmond? Sherlock? Mycroft had to survive. Lestrade took another sip of his coffee. Hadn’t he been in this situation before? He thought bitterly.
Except by the time he had arrived at the hospital for his wife and daughter they both had already died. He blinked as his face seemed to be warming up. Mycroft had to make it.
The man honestly couldn’t have had dying in his schedule.
By the time John had come in to check on him it had been another two hours and Mycroft had crashed for another time but seemed to be hanging on to life.
“If I can survive a hit like that then he certainly can.” John gave Lestrade a tired smile. Lestrade tried to smile back. “From what I hear, they think he’s going to make it. If he hadn’t been shot so close to the hospital it wouldn’t be so positive. But we won’t know for sure … the first night is always important. And the healing process afterwards is going to be long.”
“I don’t want to …” Lestrade waved his hand in front of himself before covering his face with it. “I want him to live John.”
“I would be worried if you didn’t.” John hit his shoulder against Lestrade’s. “There’s nothing you can do Lestrade.”
“There should be.” Lestrade’s voice broke as he looked at John.
“This isn’t your fault.” John tried again.
“John.” Lestrade shook his head. “Please … I need … just don’t.”
John gave Lestrade a sympathetic look when his phone beeped. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. “I need to go back to the flat … do you … “
“I have to go.” Lestrade stood up looking at John. “I can’t stay here not doing anything. I have to do something.”
“I think Sherlock will be very happy to have you help.” John admitted standing. “Hopkins … is not his favorite person at the moment.”
“He can’t be that bad.” Lestrade was about to argue but didn’t at the look on John’s face, apparently yes, it was, that bad. “One second.” He saw the man that had given him the coffee earlier coming around the corner. He quickly went over to him. “Hey.”
“Can I assist you with anything sir?” The man asked quickly.
“Can you keep me updated on him? And I mean anything and everything.” Lestrade looked for a pen to write down his number.
“Of course sir. I already have your number sir.” The man smiled. “Please take care of yourself sir. There’s no one watching you or young Mr. Holmes. We’ve been spread out.”
“Am I normally privy to this information?” Lestrade raised an eyebrow.
“I just wanted you to know that back up might take a lot longer if you’re going to need it.” The man nodded. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“Thanks mate.” Lestrade quickly went back to John.
“Who was that?” John asked as they made their way out of the hospital.
“He’s been keeping an eye on me since I got to the hospital. He’s going to keep me updated on Mycroft’s condition.” Lestrade double checked to make sure his phone was on and not on silent. He quickly sent a text to Anthea.
/Going to help Sherlock and John now. Mycroft’s still in surgery -GL/ He frowned as he sent it. He hoped Esmond was doing alright.
He looked at John. “So what have I missed?”
XXX
Lestrade stared at what used to be the sitting room of John and Sherlock’s flat. It was now covered in maps, pictures, newspapers and books. The largest wall had writing all over it and a drawing of a hangman, like the kids game. Beside it were the names of the kids that had been killed and there were more names Lestrade noted sadly but he noticed each of their names the first letter of the first and last name were circled.
“What is this?” He asked John when he noticed his, Esmond’s, Irene Adler’s and Mycroft’s names on it as well. Mycroft’s looked like it had just been painted on the wall.
“Moriarty was leaving a Message to Sherlock through the initials of the children that were being killed.” John looked at the wall with a frown. “He figured it out when he was at the hospital and watching Esmond play the game. You take names of people you know, friends, and create messages using their initials.”
“Why is my name here?” He looked at John.
“Irene was technically the first murder.” John started walking around the room. “Then the rest started, you and Esmond were supposed to be killed but you were saved. The next day the men that had been captured had all been murdered in their cells. He was obviously mad they had messed up his message to Sherlock.”
“How can you tell their initials are meant for the message?” Lestrade asked trying to process it all. “Isn’t it a bit much?”
“The London Bridge verses.” John and Lestrade looked over at Sherlock who walked into the room. “Every murder that had a verse is one that he had arranged.”
“So he isn’t going to attack the bridges?” Lestrade ran a hand through his hair before his phone beeped. He looked at it.
/Out of Surgery/
He let out a sigh of relief. “Mycroft is out of surgery.”
Sherlock nodded at the news but went right back to catching Lestrade up. “I wouldn’t assume that the bridges are safe. Hopkins seems to be useful guarding them for now.”
“But why is he doing this?” Lestrade looked between John and Sherlock. Neither of them said anything. Lestrade’s eyes travelled to the message under the hang man.
_ust ho_ many hearts can I burn until I get yours Sherlock Holmes?
He looked over at John again who was making tea. Sherlock was watching him. Lestrade wondered idly how Sherlock was even able to let John out of the flat? It was obvious if Sherlock had gotten the message right (which Lestrade would bet he did) that John was supposed to be the final target. Thought he supposed John wouldn’t settle for house-arrest and if anything staying in one place made him an easier target.
“What can I do?” He asked instead. John’s and Sherlock’s lips twitched at the question. Sherlock let out a sigh and started looking at all of the notes spread around the room instead of answering though. John came over and handed Lestrade a cup of tea.
“I have no bloody idea.” John offered a wary smiled before walking over and giving Sherlock a cup.
“His next move will obviously be against John and he hasn’t made any more puzzles or left any clues he wants me to solve.” Sherlock started talking as he walked over all the details on the floor to look out of the window. “Or he could always go back and try to get you or Esmond again. I doubt he would allow anything to go unfinished.”
“Is Mycroft safe at the hospital?” Lestrade pulled out his cell, no update.
“We don’t even know if he’s going to live.” Sherlock said quietly looking at his cup of tea.
“What if he get impatient and tries to go after you?” Lestrade quickly changed the subject.
“I can only hope.” Sherlock scoffed.
“Sherlock.” John’s tone was warning.
“If he goes after me then it is the end. Only one of us will be the victor.” Sherlock was still looking out the window. “Either I will take him down and rid the world of his hand, or he will take me down and no longer target any of you.”
“He might.” Lestrade sighed looking at the wall of names on the wall. “Doesn’t seem like he had much reason for anything.”
Sherlock smirked at Lestrade for a second before looking back out of the window. “Lestrade you are truly refreshing. If this goes on any longer I might just ask dear old Jim to put me out of my misery from dealing with Detective Inspector Hopkins.”
Lestrade let out a small chuckle. “Is he really that bad?”
“It’s like dealing with you a few years ago. Complete idiot.” Sherlock sighed leaving the window.
“Gee thanks.”
“Well you had some hope.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Hopkins on the other hand reminds me of Anderson. I want to send him off to an island with all the other little Andersons so they can live blissfully ignorant lives and stop getting in my way.”
Lestrade tried his hardest not to imagine it.
John just let out a chuckle and shook his head before heading out of the door.
“Where are you going?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John.
“Need a jumper.” John rolled his eyes. “Now that we’re not running around I’m starting to notice that it’s rather cold in here.” He smiled before going up to his room. Now that John had said something he noticed that the apartment seemed to be the same temperature it was outside.
“I can think better when it’s cold.” Sherlock mumbled before sitting on top of a chair that had newspapers in it.
“Sherlock are you okay?” Lestrade couldn’t help but ask now that he had a moment alone with the younger Holmes.
Sherlock glared at him for having the audacity to even ask such a question. “What does it matter? Why does everyone ask me that? Will the way I feel matter to the case at all?” Lestrade blinked at the sudden anger directed at him, he realized Sherlock probably needed to vent.
“W-well no but …”
“How do you think I’m feeling Lestrade? This morning I was right beside my brother when he got shot and now I know John is the last target for this game. How do you think I feel now that I know that my nephew lost his mother as part of it!? Will any of it matter? What matters is that this ends!” Sherlock was standing in front of Lestrade now. “And if I start doing something as stupid as focusing on how I feel, Lestrade, then more people will just die.”
“Sherlock I’m sorry I was just-” Lestrade held up a hand in surrender, he hadn’t seen Sherlock blow up like this before but before he could finish apologizing there was a thud from upstairs.
Sherlock’s eyes widened and he was suddenly running up the stairs. Lestrade cursed, setting down his cup before following after.
“John!” Sherlock slammed into the door, it was locked. It was silent in the room. “Dammit!” Sherlock took a breath before hitting the door again but this time it opened up to the empty room. Lestrade ran in with him. John’s window leading to the fire escape was open. He quickly ran over but there was nothing out there.
“Sherlock-” he turned around to see Sherlock holding a piece of paper. “What is that?”
“That last rhyme.” Sherlock handed it to Lestrade.
“Then we must chain him up to a post,
To a post, to a post,
Then we must chain him up to a post,
My Dear Sherlock.”
Lestrade looked up at Sherlock. “I don’t remember this verse.”
“He’s been using a version from the 17th century, more verses than the more recent one but that doesn’t matter!” Sherlock spoke fast, thinking. His eyes widened. “The bridge!”
“What?” Lestrade followed Sherlock as they ran out of the flat and down the stairs. “Sherlock wait dammit!”
Sherlock stopped and waited for Lestrade. “We need to get to the London Bridge!”
“We need to call the police!” Lestrade pulled out his cell.
“We don’t have time!” Sherlock yelled and was about to run from Lestrade but he caught him by the arm.
“Call Hopkins!” He handed the phone to Sherlock before running over to a group of kids with their motorcycles. “Oi!” He was slightly thankful he had seen one of his old ID’s in Sherlock’s flat and grabbed it. He pulled it out. “Gonna need one of your bikes.”
He would probably get hell for this later.
“What?” One of the guys looked at him confused.
“Here mate just take this to Scotland Yard tomorrow and you’ll get your bike back.” Lestrade tossed him his ID and took the bike, hopping on and driving over to Sherlock who quickly hopped on the back while talking on the phone.
“Lestrade’s with me, we will be there in 10 minutes.” Sherlock hung up the phone and put it in Lestrade’s pocket before wrapping his arms around the older man’s waist. Lestrade hoped they could get there in that time … and that they didn’t get into any wrecks on the way.
He pulled off and quickly weaved through traffic. He had almost forgot what it was like to drive with another set of weight on a motorcycle with him but Sherlock seemed to have enough experience to know when to lean and which way.
“Sorry!” He yelled at some pedestrians as they hopped onto the pavement when the traffic started to stop. They had to get there and save John.
They made it to the bridge just as Hopkins and his crew were arriving as well but instead of stopping with them Lestrade drove onto the bridge. It seemed … like nothing was wrong. As he pulled to a stop in the middle of the bridge they looked around, people giving them weird looks. John was nowhere to be seen. Moriarty was nowhere to be seen. Sherlock hopped off of the bike and ran to the edge of the bridge and looked down.
Lestrade ran to the other side.
Nothing.
“There’s nothing here!” Lestrade looked over at Sherlock who had his hands over his ears and was mumbling to himself. He looked over at the police setting up barriers and Hopkins running over to them.
“What’s going on? Don’t we need to get off the bridge?” The younger man looked around confused.
“Yes keep everyone away.” Lestrade was watching Sherlock. “We don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“Do you think he’s going to blow it up?” Hopkins asked and Lestrade felt very irritated with the man.
“Evacuate the bridge you twat!” He yelled at the younger man. Hopkins jumped and started shouting orders into his radio.
“Lestrade.” Sherlock was beside him in an instant. “Tower and Southwark Bridge.” Lestrade’s eyes widened. Of course, there were other bridges also considered to be the London Bridge. The most assumed one would be the Tower Bridge but-
“Which one?” He asked quietly.
“Tower!” Sherlock put a hand over his face. “I should have known! I’m such an idiot!” Lestrade ran over to the bike hoping on and waiting for Sherlock to do the same. “Hurry Lestrade!”
“Wait!” Hopkins shouted at them.
Lestrade wondered idly, as he pulled away, if he would have time to call Hopkins when they got there. This time everything seemed to be happening so fast, they were suddenly at the Tower Bridge but Lestrade couldn’t remember the route he had even taken them to get there.
He stopped this time at the entrance to the bridge. People were walking around on the bridge too like it was any other day. “Sherlock.”
“No it has to be this one.” Sherlock got off the bike and ran onto the bridge. Lestrade swore jumping off of the bike and following after him. His phone beeped and he pulled it out.
/Back in surgery/
Lestrade tried not to trip as he ran forward blinking at the text. He was about to throw his phone back into his pocket and try to focus on the task at hand but another text came up that had him stopping in his tracts.
/At Tower Bridge, where are you?/ It was from Anthea. Lestrade’s heart was pounding, he was about to shout at Sherlock but when he looked up Sherlock wasn’t there. He quickly called the number.
“Are you here?” She asked agitated.
“Why are you here?!” He shouted. “Please tell me you don’t have Esmond! Get off the bridge!”
The girl on the other side of the line sucked in a sharp breath. “You didn’t text me …? Shit.” There was some noises, she was in a car. Lestrade started looking around. “I got a text to come pick you up and to text you when I got to the Tower Bridge.” He heard Esmond talking in the background.
“I didn’t send you a text!” Lestrade shouted frantically. “Both of you need to get off of the bridge now!”
“Right.” And then she hung up. Lestrade looked around frantically seeing if he could see them but now people were shouting and yelling and running to get off of the bridge. People were even leaving their cars. Lestrade moved out of the way as he tried to move the opposite way.
Then he saw them.
John Watson was tied to one of the supports of the bridge. He was shouting at Sherlock who had a gun pointed at someone. Lestrade looked across the bridge and saw Moriarty wave and his mouth was moving but Lestrade was too far away.
He jumped as there was a loud shot and the gun was out of Sherlock’s hand and he was holding it to his chest. The other guy, Seb, was here! Lestrade looked around to see where the shot came from but there was a few more from farther down the bridge. Oh God, Anthea and Esmond. He could just make her out shooting her gun, he followed her line of sight just in time to see Seb fall over.
“No!” Moriarty’s yell was heard over the screams. Lestrade looked over at him as he kicked Sherlock to the ground. “You idiot, he had the-!!”
Lestrade’s eyes widened as explosions gave out from underneath the bridge. And then it was moving and shaking as he held onto the railing for support.
“John!” Lestrade looked over to where the doctor had been. Or where he thought he had been. Everything was moving and there were people screaming and then there were more explosions. Each of the towers caught on flames.
It took Lestrade a moment, as he looked up at the towers, to realize he was falling.
Then he hit the cold water of the Thames and everything went black.
XXX
“Daddy!” Lestrade blinked a few times before smiling and picking up his baby girl. Her long hair moving with the wind. She was wearing his favorite dress.
“Well don’t you look lovely.” He kissed her cheek causing her to giggle.
“Dad your face is scratchy!” He giggled trying to get away from him. He laughed putting her on the ground but she took his hand and started pulling him. “Let’s go Daddy!”
“Gab wait a second!” Lestrade laughed, “Where’s your mother?”
“Right here.” Lestrade stopped but smiled at the sight of his wife. She looked like she had just got home from work.
“I’ve missed you.” He smiled before frowning. He blinked. Why had he said that? He blinked again as his vision went blurry, why was he crying?
Tobi just smiled at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’ve had a long day.”
“Y-yeah.” Lestrade wiped at his eyes before smiling at them. Gabrielle just smiled right back and went to her mother. He realized he was really tired, though he couldn’t remember working that hard. “I think I’m going to get some rest.”
“No.” Tobi shook her head with a sad smile. “You don’t want to go to sleep Greg. You need to stay awake.”
Lestrade gave her a confused look. He was really tired. In fact he felt really heavy. “Why not?” He smiled at his wife and looked down at his daughter but Gabrielle wasn’t smiling. “Gabby?”
“You can’t go to sleep Daddy.” His little girl looked sad.
“What’s going on?” Lestrade reached out to touch Gabrielle’s hair but suddenly she was too far away for him to reach. He looked up at Tobi who was beside her. Something was off … he was so confused. He was so tired. “I’m so tired.”
“Hurry! Get him out of the water!”
Lestrade looked around as a voice seemed to come out of nowhere. “Who is that?”
“It was nice seeing you again Greg.” Tobi smiled at him.
“Wait! What does that mean?” He wanted to chase after them but he couldn’t move and his clothes were soaking wet. Wasn’t he dry before? “Tobi! Gabrielle! Please don’t leave me again!” He cried out after them.
Oh.
That’s right.
He looked over at them wide-eyed. Tobi smiled as she picked up Gabrielle who smiled at her dad. “Take care of yourself Greg.”
Lestrade gasp for air as the scenery changed suddenly and everything was dark. There was noise, so much noise and flashing lights and people. He felt cold and wet and everything hurt.
“Stay with us! We’re going to get you to the hospital!” Someone was yelling above him. Lestrade nodded letting them know he could hear them.
He was alive.
XXX
One Month Later
XXX
“And if you sign here you’re free to go home.” The nurse smiled at him. “Everyone’s sad to see you go.” She laughed.
He laughed back. “Oh you’ll still see me. Gotta keep track of the guy you wish was leaving today.”
“I think some of the nurses are going to start sedating him … again.” She pursed her lips with a small grin.
“Now we can’t have that.” He laughed.
“Mr. Greg!”
Lestrade jumped and turned around just as Esmond wrapped his arms around his waist. He laughed patting the boy’s head with his good arm. “Hey kiddo.”
“Esmond do be careful.” Lestrade looked up as Mycroft walked over, being followed by Anthea and her blackberry. He smiled. Mycroft was walking with a cane instead of an umbrella but he looked a lot better. He had got out of the hospital earlier than the doctors had wanted but apparently he was completing his physical rehabilitation at work. Being shot in the heart did have its effects.
Lestrade was lucky. When he had been pulled from the river he had a bad concussion, broken arm in two places and a few fractured ribs. He was going to be stuck in a cast for a while but everything else was healing nicely.
John had been in a coma until about a week ago. He had a broken arm as well and his old war injuries were inflamed and acting up but otherwise he was going to be fine. He was sharing a room with the whiniest patient in the entire hospital. Sherlock had not been the luckiest of the bunch. It had taken the search team hours to find him, with little hope. They had found him though and he was alive.
Alive with two broken leg, a fractured clavicle and water damage to his lungs. But alive nonetheless. And on a mission to annoy everyone in the hospital until they figured out how to make him heal faster … or killed him.
“Hey Mycroft.” Lestrade smiled as the man limped his way over to him. He leaned his head up to meet the other man’s lips. He had been surprised that Mycroft had been so willing to kiss him in front of the hospital staff. He smiled as Esmond made choking noises.
“You guys are so gross.” The boy complained. “I’m going to go to Uncle Sherlock’s room.” With that he started moving down the hall but Anthea let out a laugh and followed after him.
“They seemed to be getting along better.” Lestrade blushed slightly as Mycroft held his good hand and they walked slowly after them.
“Apparently saving him from a falling bridge has made her a sort of superhero in his eyes.” Mycroft squeezed Lestrade’s hand. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he still likes you too.”
Lestrade snorted. “Thanks, you know just what to say.”
“And he’s staying with Anthea tonight.” Mycroft smiled as Lestrade stopped. He blushed brightly.
“Is that so?” He tried not to squeak.
“It is.” Mycroft smirked.
“He’s back John, make him go away.” They both chuckled slightly as they heard Sherlock whine through his door. Esmond laughed.
“You’re just jealous ‘cause I can walk.” The boy snickered. Lestrade raised an eyebrow as they walked in to see Esmond sitting on Sherlock’s bed beside his legs- just out of the older man’s reach.
“Mycroft! Doesn’t your spawn have school?” Sherlock sighed at the site of his brother. “And what are you doing here Lestrade, don’t you have your own room.”
“Sherlock.” John rolled his eyes.
“Just got released.” Lestrade smiled a little more at Sherlock’s glare. “Thought I would let you know to be wary of the nurses, they’re thinking about sedating you.”
“Let them. I could finish my book.” John chuckled.
“Don’t leave me with him Lestrade, he’s so dull. You would think a doctor would be more exciting in a hospital.” Sherlock groaned.
“Sorry mate.” Lestrade chuckled.
“On that note, we should be on our way.” Mycroft nodded at the both of them.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Da.” Esmond hugged his Da before taking Anthea’s hand and leaving.
“Bye Esmond.” Mycroft smiled before glancing at John and Sherlock. Sherlock glared at them. “Gentlemen.”
“Bye.” John was watching Sherlock with a smirk but waved at them. “As a doctor I should tell you not to strain yourselves.”
Lestrade blushed and looked away as he left the room . He could hear John laughing and Sherlock making incredulous noises. He stopped when Mycroft tapped the back of his leg with his cane.
“Oh sorry.” Lestrade blushed more as Mycroft took his hand.
“Don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.” Mycroft smirked
And they did.
XXX
One More Left!
XXX
Chapter: 07/08
Betas/Brits: None! But if you want let me know! <3
Rating: PG:13 (R later chapters)
Pairings: MH/GL, SH/JW
Warnings: Character Death, M/M
Disclaimer: This story is based off of this prompt from the kink meme. Will eventually contain mentions of child abuse, gay sex, violence and whumpage.
01 02 03 04 05 06
XXX
Chapter 07
XXX
“Yeah- Sherlock! What’s going on?” Lestrade got up and moved to XXX
Chapter 07
XXX
“Yeah- Sherlock! What’s going on?” Lestrade got up and moved to Sherlock. Esmond was looking at his Uncle, shocked. “Whose blood is that?”
“Mycroft’s been shot.” Sherlock’s mouth was in a tight thin line and he looked pale. Lestrade touched his shoulder gently but Sherlock shook it off with a shrug and went over to Esmond.
“What happened to Da?” Esmond asked his Uncle as Sherlock helped him out of the bed. “Where are we going? Is he okay?”
“I’m sorry Esmond you have to come with me.” Lestrade almost jumped as Mycroft’s secretary appeared beside him. Her right wrist was in a cast and her expression serious. Sherlock froze and Esmond shook his head.
“No! I want my Da! Where is he?” The small boy pulled away from Sherlock angrily.
“Esmond you have to.” Sherlock tried to grab Esmond again but the boy moved to hide behind Lestrade.
“No! Where’s Da!? He’s dead, isn’t he?” Esmond cried and Lestrade looked up at Sherlock not knowing what to do. It couldn’t be true. Mycroft couldn’t be dead.
“He’s not dead.” The woman John called Anthea spoke up giving Sherlock a firm look before looking over at Esmond. “He isn’t dead Esmond.” She knelt slightly and Lestrade watched her transform from soldier to mother so quickly he blinked a few times. It still didn’t beat the feeling of flat relief that came over him from those words.
“I want to see him.” The boy mumbled holding onto Lestrade’s leg.
“You can’t right now.” Anthea spoke softly. “But your Da gave me an order to protect you. I have to obey orders. You understand this, right?” Esmond’s grip tightened on Lestrade’s leg. The Detective Inspector looked over at Sherlock who was staring at the floor so he looked back at the woman who was watching Esmond.
He looked back at the blood stains on Sherlock’s shirt. Mycroft wasn’t dead. He was shot. But Esmond couldn’t see him; in fact they wanted to move Esmond to a safe location. So it didn’t look good. Mycroft wasn’t dead … yet. Lestrade’s throat felt tight. He looked behind him and put a hand on Esmond’s head causing the boy to look up at him teary eyed.
“Esmond you should go with her.” Esmond was about the shake his head and protest but Lestrade smiled at him. “Go with her like your Da wanted and I’ll go check on him for you.” Esmond looked up at him frowning.
“I’ll give him my number so he can call me.” Anthea smiled at Esmond causing him to look at her. The boy reluctantly let go of Lestrade’s legs and looked up at Sherlock who just nodded, so he walked over to Anthea and took her hand. She smiled and stood up handing Lestrade a card with her injured hand which he took.
“I will call.” Lestrade he offered a wary smile as he looked at Esmond. “Promise.”
“Good luck.” Anthea glanced at Sherlock before leaving.
“Sherlock.” Lestrade stopped the other man from following them out of the room. Silver eyes met his. “How can I help?”
“You should be resting.” Sherlock pulled from his hold and left the room but Lestrade followed after him.
“Fuck that.” Lestrade stopped Sherlock again.
“You have a promise to keep Lestrade.” Sherlock glared at him flicking the card in Lestrade’s hand. “And so do I.”
“Mr. Lestrade!” Greg turned as a nurse came up to him. “What are you doing out of your room? I’ve been looking for you.” He blinked at her before turning to look at Sherlock again but the other man was already gone.
“I’m sure you have people that need that room more than I do.” Lestrade sighed at the nurse, “Wait I need to know about someone else! A man was shot … is he here?”
“Your friend is in surgery.” The nurse frowned. “Let me release you properly and you can go to the waiting room but … it doesn’t look good.”
Lestrade closed his eyes. “Where was he shot?”
“I don’t know all the details.” His nurse admitted. “Do you want me to-?”
“No, just get me my clothes and show me where I can find out.” Lestrade hoped he sounded calm.
XXX
Shot in the chest, too close to the heart. Lestrade buried his face in his hands. Shot in the chest and four hours later still in surgery. They had almost lost him twice but he was fighting. He looked up as a man coughed. It was one of the men in suits that had been walking around the hospital, he had a cup of coffee.
“Thanks?” Lestrade took it hesitantly. The man just nodded, patted Lestrade on the shoulder and then continued his way. The Detective Inspector blinked a few times watching the man leave before taking a sip.
Well that was bloody weird, he almost wanted to laugh about it. Except, he looked up at the nurses’ station, he couldn’t even bring himself to smile at a time like this.
All he could think about was Mycroft. Would he make it? What would happen if he didn’t? What about Esmond? Sherlock? Mycroft had to survive. Lestrade took another sip of his coffee. Hadn’t he been in this situation before? He thought bitterly.
Except by the time he had arrived at the hospital for his wife and daughter they both had already died. He blinked as his face seemed to be warming up. Mycroft had to make it.
The man honestly couldn’t have had dying in his schedule.
By the time John had come in to check on him it had been another two hours and Mycroft had crashed for another time but seemed to be hanging on to life.
“If I can survive a hit like that then he certainly can.” John gave Lestrade a tired smile. Lestrade tried to smile back. “From what I hear, they think he’s going to make it. If he hadn’t been shot so close to the hospital it wouldn’t be so positive. But we won’t know for sure … the first night is always important. And the healing process afterwards is going to be long.”
“I don’t want to …” Lestrade waved his hand in front of himself before covering his face with it. “I want him to live John.”
“I would be worried if you didn’t.” John hit his shoulder against Lestrade’s. “There’s nothing you can do Lestrade.”
“There should be.” Lestrade’s voice broke as he looked at John.
“This isn’t your fault.” John tried again.
“John.” Lestrade shook his head. “Please … I need … just don’t.”
John gave Lestrade a sympathetic look when his phone beeped. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. “I need to go back to the flat … do you … “
“I have to go.” Lestrade stood up looking at John. “I can’t stay here not doing anything. I have to do something.”
“I think Sherlock will be very happy to have you help.” John admitted standing. “Hopkins … is not his favorite person at the moment.”
“He can’t be that bad.” Lestrade was about to argue but didn’t at the look on John’s face, apparently yes, it was, that bad. “One second.” He saw the man that had given him the coffee earlier coming around the corner. He quickly went over to him. “Hey.”
“Can I assist you with anything sir?” The man asked quickly.
“Can you keep me updated on him? And I mean anything and everything.” Lestrade looked for a pen to write down his number.
“Of course sir. I already have your number sir.” The man smiled. “Please take care of yourself sir. There’s no one watching you or young Mr. Holmes. We’ve been spread out.”
“Am I normally privy to this information?” Lestrade raised an eyebrow.
“I just wanted you to know that back up might take a lot longer if you’re going to need it.” The man nodded. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“Thanks mate.” Lestrade quickly went back to John.
“Who was that?” John asked as they made their way out of the hospital.
“He’s been keeping an eye on me since I got to the hospital. He’s going to keep me updated on Mycroft’s condition.” Lestrade double checked to make sure his phone was on and not on silent. He quickly sent a text to Anthea.
/Going to help Sherlock and John now. Mycroft’s still in surgery -GL/ He frowned as he sent it. He hoped Esmond was doing alright.
He looked at John. “So what have I missed?”
XXX
Lestrade stared at what used to be the sitting room of John and Sherlock’s flat. It was now covered in maps, pictures, newspapers and books. The largest wall had writing all over it and a drawing of a hangman, like the kids game. Beside it were the names of the kids that had been killed and there were more names Lestrade noted sadly but he noticed each of their names the first letter of the first and last name were circled.
“What is this?” He asked John when he noticed his, Esmond’s, Irene Adler’s and Mycroft’s names on it as well. Mycroft’s looked like it had just been painted on the wall.
“Moriarty was leaving a Message to Sherlock through the initials of the children that were being killed.” John looked at the wall with a frown. “He figured it out when he was at the hospital and watching Esmond play the game. You take names of people you know, friends, and create messages using their initials.”
“Why is my name here?” He looked at John.
“Irene was technically the first murder.” John started walking around the room. “Then the rest started, you and Esmond were supposed to be killed but you were saved. The next day the men that had been captured had all been murdered in their cells. He was obviously mad they had messed up his message to Sherlock.”
“How can you tell their initials are meant for the message?” Lestrade asked trying to process it all. “Isn’t it a bit much?”
“The London Bridge verses.” John and Lestrade looked over at Sherlock who walked into the room. “Every murder that had a verse is one that he had arranged.”
“So he isn’t going to attack the bridges?” Lestrade ran a hand through his hair before his phone beeped. He looked at it.
/Out of Surgery/
He let out a sigh of relief. “Mycroft is out of surgery.”
Sherlock nodded at the news but went right back to catching Lestrade up. “I wouldn’t assume that the bridges are safe. Hopkins seems to be useful guarding them for now.”
“But why is he doing this?” Lestrade looked between John and Sherlock. Neither of them said anything. Lestrade’s eyes travelled to the message under the hang man.
_ust ho_ many hearts can I burn until I get yours Sherlock Holmes?
He looked over at John again who was making tea. Sherlock was watching him. Lestrade wondered idly how Sherlock was even able to let John out of the flat? It was obvious if Sherlock had gotten the message right (which Lestrade would bet he did) that John was supposed to be the final target. Thought he supposed John wouldn’t settle for house-arrest and if anything staying in one place made him an easier target.
“What can I do?” He asked instead. John’s and Sherlock’s lips twitched at the question. Sherlock let out a sigh and started looking at all of the notes spread around the room instead of answering though. John came over and handed Lestrade a cup of tea.
“I have no bloody idea.” John offered a wary smiled before walking over and giving Sherlock a cup.
“His next move will obviously be against John and he hasn’t made any more puzzles or left any clues he wants me to solve.” Sherlock started talking as he walked over all the details on the floor to look out of the window. “Or he could always go back and try to get you or Esmond again. I doubt he would allow anything to go unfinished.”
“Is Mycroft safe at the hospital?” Lestrade pulled out his cell, no update.
“We don’t even know if he’s going to live.” Sherlock said quietly looking at his cup of tea.
“What if he get impatient and tries to go after you?” Lestrade quickly changed the subject.
“I can only hope.” Sherlock scoffed.
“Sherlock.” John’s tone was warning.
“If he goes after me then it is the end. Only one of us will be the victor.” Sherlock was still looking out the window. “Either I will take him down and rid the world of his hand, or he will take me down and no longer target any of you.”
“He might.” Lestrade sighed looking at the wall of names on the wall. “Doesn’t seem like he had much reason for anything.”
Sherlock smirked at Lestrade for a second before looking back out of the window. “Lestrade you are truly refreshing. If this goes on any longer I might just ask dear old Jim to put me out of my misery from dealing with Detective Inspector Hopkins.”
Lestrade let out a small chuckle. “Is he really that bad?”
“It’s like dealing with you a few years ago. Complete idiot.” Sherlock sighed leaving the window.
“Gee thanks.”
“Well you had some hope.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Hopkins on the other hand reminds me of Anderson. I want to send him off to an island with all the other little Andersons so they can live blissfully ignorant lives and stop getting in my way.”
Lestrade tried his hardest not to imagine it.
John just let out a chuckle and shook his head before heading out of the door.
“Where are you going?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John.
“Need a jumper.” John rolled his eyes. “Now that we’re not running around I’m starting to notice that it’s rather cold in here.” He smiled before going up to his room. Now that John had said something he noticed that the apartment seemed to be the same temperature it was outside.
“I can think better when it’s cold.” Sherlock mumbled before sitting on top of a chair that had newspapers in it.
“Sherlock are you okay?” Lestrade couldn’t help but ask now that he had a moment alone with the younger Holmes.
Sherlock glared at him for having the audacity to even ask such a question. “What does it matter? Why does everyone ask me that? Will the way I feel matter to the case at all?” Lestrade blinked at the sudden anger directed at him, he realized Sherlock probably needed to vent.
“W-well no but …”
“How do you think I’m feeling Lestrade? This morning I was right beside my brother when he got shot and now I know John is the last target for this game. How do you think I feel now that I know that my nephew lost his mother as part of it!? Will any of it matter? What matters is that this ends!” Sherlock was standing in front of Lestrade now. “And if I start doing something as stupid as focusing on how I feel, Lestrade, then more people will just die.”
“Sherlock I’m sorry I was just-” Lestrade held up a hand in surrender, he hadn’t seen Sherlock blow up like this before but before he could finish apologizing there was a thud from upstairs.
Sherlock’s eyes widened and he was suddenly running up the stairs. Lestrade cursed, setting down his cup before following after.
“John!” Sherlock slammed into the door, it was locked. It was silent in the room. “Dammit!” Sherlock took a breath before hitting the door again but this time it opened up to the empty room. Lestrade ran in with him. John’s window leading to the fire escape was open. He quickly ran over but there was nothing out there.
“Sherlock-” he turned around to see Sherlock holding a piece of paper. “What is that?”
“That last rhyme.” Sherlock handed it to Lestrade.
“Then we must chain him up to a post,
To a post, to a post,
Then we must chain him up to a post,
My Dear Sherlock.”
Lestrade looked up at Sherlock. “I don’t remember this verse.”
“He’s been using a version from the 17th century, more verses than the more recent one but that doesn’t matter!” Sherlock spoke fast, thinking. His eyes widened. “The bridge!”
“What?” Lestrade followed Sherlock as they ran out of the flat and down the stairs. “Sherlock wait dammit!”
Sherlock stopped and waited for Lestrade. “We need to get to the London Bridge!”
“We need to call the police!” Lestrade pulled out his cell.
“We don’t have time!” Sherlock yelled and was about to run from Lestrade but he caught him by the arm.
“Call Hopkins!” He handed the phone to Sherlock before running over to a group of kids with their motorcycles. “Oi!” He was slightly thankful he had seen one of his old ID’s in Sherlock’s flat and grabbed it. He pulled it out. “Gonna need one of your bikes.”
He would probably get hell for this later.
“What?” One of the guys looked at him confused.
“Here mate just take this to Scotland Yard tomorrow and you’ll get your bike back.” Lestrade tossed him his ID and took the bike, hopping on and driving over to Sherlock who quickly hopped on the back while talking on the phone.
“Lestrade’s with me, we will be there in 10 minutes.” Sherlock hung up the phone and put it in Lestrade’s pocket before wrapping his arms around the older man’s waist. Lestrade hoped they could get there in that time … and that they didn’t get into any wrecks on the way.
He pulled off and quickly weaved through traffic. He had almost forgot what it was like to drive with another set of weight on a motorcycle with him but Sherlock seemed to have enough experience to know when to lean and which way.
“Sorry!” He yelled at some pedestrians as they hopped onto the pavement when the traffic started to stop. They had to get there and save John.
They made it to the bridge just as Hopkins and his crew were arriving as well but instead of stopping with them Lestrade drove onto the bridge. It seemed … like nothing was wrong. As he pulled to a stop in the middle of the bridge they looked around, people giving them weird looks. John was nowhere to be seen. Moriarty was nowhere to be seen. Sherlock hopped off of the bike and ran to the edge of the bridge and looked down.
Lestrade ran to the other side.
Nothing.
“There’s nothing here!” Lestrade looked over at Sherlock who had his hands over his ears and was mumbling to himself. He looked over at the police setting up barriers and Hopkins running over to them.
“What’s going on? Don’t we need to get off the bridge?” The younger man looked around confused.
“Yes keep everyone away.” Lestrade was watching Sherlock. “We don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“Do you think he’s going to blow it up?” Hopkins asked and Lestrade felt very irritated with the man.
“Evacuate the bridge you twat!” He yelled at the younger man. Hopkins jumped and started shouting orders into his radio.
“Lestrade.” Sherlock was beside him in an instant. “Tower and Southwark Bridge.” Lestrade’s eyes widened. Of course, there were other bridges also considered to be the London Bridge. The most assumed one would be the Tower Bridge but-
“Which one?” He asked quietly.
“Tower!” Sherlock put a hand over his face. “I should have known! I’m such an idiot!” Lestrade ran over to the bike hoping on and waiting for Sherlock to do the same. “Hurry Lestrade!”
“Wait!” Hopkins shouted at them.
Lestrade wondered idly, as he pulled away, if he would have time to call Hopkins when they got there. This time everything seemed to be happening so fast, they were suddenly at the Tower Bridge but Lestrade couldn’t remember the route he had even taken them to get there.
He stopped this time at the entrance to the bridge. People were walking around on the bridge too like it was any other day. “Sherlock.”
“No it has to be this one.” Sherlock got off the bike and ran onto the bridge. Lestrade swore jumping off of the bike and following after him. His phone beeped and he pulled it out.
/Back in surgery/
Lestrade tried not to trip as he ran forward blinking at the text. He was about to throw his phone back into his pocket and try to focus on the task at hand but another text came up that had him stopping in his tracts.
/At Tower Bridge, where are you?/ It was from Anthea. Lestrade’s heart was pounding, he was about to shout at Sherlock but when he looked up Sherlock wasn’t there. He quickly called the number.
“Are you here?” She asked agitated.
“Why are you here?!” He shouted. “Please tell me you don’t have Esmond! Get off the bridge!”
The girl on the other side of the line sucked in a sharp breath. “You didn’t text me …? Shit.” There was some noises, she was in a car. Lestrade started looking around. “I got a text to come pick you up and to text you when I got to the Tower Bridge.” He heard Esmond talking in the background.
“I didn’t send you a text!” Lestrade shouted frantically. “Both of you need to get off of the bridge now!”
“Right.” And then she hung up. Lestrade looked around frantically seeing if he could see them but now people were shouting and yelling and running to get off of the bridge. People were even leaving their cars. Lestrade moved out of the way as he tried to move the opposite way.
Then he saw them.
John Watson was tied to one of the supports of the bridge. He was shouting at Sherlock who had a gun pointed at someone. Lestrade looked across the bridge and saw Moriarty wave and his mouth was moving but Lestrade was too far away.
He jumped as there was a loud shot and the gun was out of Sherlock’s hand and he was holding it to his chest. The other guy, Seb, was here! Lestrade looked around to see where the shot came from but there was a few more from farther down the bridge. Oh God, Anthea and Esmond. He could just make her out shooting her gun, he followed her line of sight just in time to see Seb fall over.
“No!” Moriarty’s yell was heard over the screams. Lestrade looked over at him as he kicked Sherlock to the ground. “You idiot, he had the-!!”
Lestrade’s eyes widened as explosions gave out from underneath the bridge. And then it was moving and shaking as he held onto the railing for support.
“John!” Lestrade looked over to where the doctor had been. Or where he thought he had been. Everything was moving and there were people screaming and then there were more explosions. Each of the towers caught on flames.
It took Lestrade a moment, as he looked up at the towers, to realize he was falling.
Then he hit the cold water of the Thames and everything went black.
XXX
“Daddy!” Lestrade blinked a few times before smiling and picking up his baby girl. Her long hair moving with the wind. She was wearing his favorite dress.
“Well don’t you look lovely.” He kissed her cheek causing her to giggle.
“Dad your face is scratchy!” He giggled trying to get away from him. He laughed putting her on the ground but she took his hand and started pulling him. “Let’s go Daddy!”
“Gab wait a second!” Lestrade laughed, “Where’s your mother?”
“Right here.” Lestrade stopped but smiled at the sight of his wife. She looked like she had just got home from work.
“I’ve missed you.” He smiled before frowning. He blinked. Why had he said that? He blinked again as his vision went blurry, why was he crying?
Tobi just smiled at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’ve had a long day.”
“Y-yeah.” Lestrade wiped at his eyes before smiling at them. Gabrielle just smiled right back and went to her mother. He realized he was really tired, though he couldn’t remember working that hard. “I think I’m going to get some rest.”
“No.” Tobi shook her head with a sad smile. “You don’t want to go to sleep Greg. You need to stay awake.”
Lestrade gave her a confused look. He was really tired. In fact he felt really heavy. “Why not?” He smiled at his wife and looked down at his daughter but Gabrielle wasn’t smiling. “Gabby?”
“You can’t go to sleep Daddy.” His little girl looked sad.
“What’s going on?” Lestrade reached out to touch Gabrielle’s hair but suddenly she was too far away for him to reach. He looked up at Tobi who was beside her. Something was off … he was so confused. He was so tired. “I’m so tired.”
“Hurry! Get him out of the water!”
Lestrade looked around as a voice seemed to come out of nowhere. “Who is that?”
“It was nice seeing you again Greg.” Tobi smiled at him.
“Wait! What does that mean?” He wanted to chase after them but he couldn’t move and his clothes were soaking wet. Wasn’t he dry before? “Tobi! Gabrielle! Please don’t leave me again!” He cried out after them.
Oh.
That’s right.
He looked over at them wide-eyed. Tobi smiled as she picked up Gabrielle who smiled at her dad. “Take care of yourself Greg.”
Lestrade gasp for air as the scenery changed suddenly and everything was dark. There was noise, so much noise and flashing lights and people. He felt cold and wet and everything hurt.
“Stay with us! We’re going to get you to the hospital!” Someone was yelling above him. Lestrade nodded letting them know he could hear them.
He was alive.
XXX
One Month Later
XXX
“And if you sign here you’re free to go home.” The nurse smiled at him. “Everyone’s sad to see you go.” She laughed.
He laughed back. “Oh you’ll still see me. Gotta keep track of the guy you wish was leaving today.”
“I think some of the nurses are going to start sedating him … again.” She pursed her lips with a small grin.
“Now we can’t have that.” He laughed.
“Mr. Greg!”
Lestrade jumped and turned around just as Esmond wrapped his arms around his waist. He laughed patting the boy’s head with his good arm. “Hey kiddo.”
“Esmond do be careful.” Lestrade looked up as Mycroft walked over, being followed by Anthea and her blackberry. He smiled. Mycroft was walking with a cane instead of an umbrella but he looked a lot better. He had got out of the hospital earlier than the doctors had wanted but apparently he was completing his physical rehabilitation at work. Being shot in the heart did have its effects.
Lestrade was lucky. When he had been pulled from the river he had a bad concussion, broken arm in two places and a few fractured ribs. He was going to be stuck in a cast for a while but everything else was healing nicely.
John had been in a coma until about a week ago. He had a broken arm as well and his old war injuries were inflamed and acting up but otherwise he was going to be fine. He was sharing a room with the whiniest patient in the entire hospital. Sherlock had not been the luckiest of the bunch. It had taken the search team hours to find him, with little hope. They had found him though and he was alive.
Alive with two broken leg, a fractured clavicle and water damage to his lungs. But alive nonetheless. And on a mission to annoy everyone in the hospital until they figured out how to make him heal faster … or killed him.
“Hey Mycroft.” Lestrade smiled as the man limped his way over to him. He leaned his head up to meet the other man’s lips. He had been surprised that Mycroft had been so willing to kiss him in front of the hospital staff. He smiled as Esmond made choking noises.
“You guys are so gross.” The boy complained. “I’m going to go to Uncle Sherlock’s room.” With that he started moving down the hall but Anthea let out a laugh and followed after him.
“They seemed to be getting along better.” Lestrade blushed slightly as Mycroft held his good hand and they walked slowly after them.
“Apparently saving him from a falling bridge has made her a sort of superhero in his eyes.” Mycroft squeezed Lestrade’s hand. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he still likes you too.”
Lestrade snorted. “Thanks, you know just what to say.”
“And he’s staying with Anthea tonight.” Mycroft smiled as Lestrade stopped. He blushed brightly.
“Is that so?” He tried not to squeak.
“It is.” Mycroft smirked.
“He’s back John, make him go away.” They both chuckled slightly as they heard Sherlock whine through his door. Esmond laughed.
“You’re just jealous ‘cause I can walk.” The boy snickered. Lestrade raised an eyebrow as they walked in to see Esmond sitting on Sherlock’s bed beside his legs- just out of the older man’s reach.
“Mycroft! Doesn’t your spawn have school?” Sherlock sighed at the site of his brother. “And what are you doing here Lestrade, don’t you have your own room.”
“Sherlock.” John rolled his eyes.
“Just got released.” Lestrade smiled a little more at Sherlock’s glare. “Thought I would let you know to be wary of the nurses, they’re thinking about sedating you.”
“Let them. I could finish my book.” John chuckled.
“Don’t leave me with him Lestrade, he’s so dull. You would think a doctor would be more exciting in a hospital.” Sherlock groaned.
“Sorry mate.” Lestrade chuckled.
“On that note, we should be on our way.” Mycroft nodded at the both of them.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Da.” Esmond hugged his Da before taking Anthea’s hand and leaving.
“Bye Esmond.” Mycroft smiled before glancing at John and Sherlock. Sherlock glared at them. “Gentlemen.”
“Bye.” John was watching Sherlock with a smirk but waved at them. “As a doctor I should tell you not to strain yourselves.”
Lestrade blushed and looked away as he left the room . He could hear John laughing and Sherlock making incredulous noises. He stopped when Mycroft tapped the back of his leg with his cane.
“Oh sorry.” Lestrade blushed more as Mycroft took his hand.
“Don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.” Mycroft smirked
And they did.
XXX
One More Left!
XXX