Apparently I'm writing Reichenbach Ficlets now...
I don’t even know where this came from, but I’m posting it before I can change my mind (again).
Title: Collateral Damage
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: DI Lestrade
Word Count: 645
Beta/Britpicker: lydiaconspires, and smash_leigh who kindly ensure I don't make a fool of myself. ;)
Warnings: Reichenbach Fall Spoilers
Sherlock was not a friendly man, but he had become a fixture in Greg’s life, and even if the det-if the… if the other m- damn it, if the detective didn’t consider him one, he would still call Sherlock one of his friends. He still did, even now. Didn’t believe what was being said about him, refused to recant his faith in the man. He’d known him too long, seen him at highs and lows, and seen too much of what he could do to believe it was all a lie.
To the surprise of some, he was not a stupid man; Occam’s razor - the public loved a good scandal; they lapped it up whenever someone who made something of themselves fell - but acting, controlling every aspect of every case and performance since Greg had known the man? It was honestly just too difficult to pull off for that length of time; unrealistically involved and contrived - the most likely reality was the one he’d always believed to be true.
However, he was the only one at the yard to feel that way.
In the end, they allowed him the consideration of tending his own resignation. He had enough years of dogged, loyal service to be considered an unwitting dupe rather than an accomplice. Neither Donovan nor Anderson would make eye contact they day he walked out; head up, shoulders back. It was fine; they had both done what they thought was right - he didn’t agree with them, but he couldn’t fault the intention. He’d be a bit of a hypocrite if he did.
Lestrade was sure they hadn’t contemplated the repercussions of the initial action; didn’t see their DI taking his own fall along with the man they suspected. (The man they had always wanted to think the worst of - not that Sherlock made it easy to think well of him.) He shies away from the thought of how they’d have handled it if they knew; not sure the expectation of a superior officer would entirely outweigh the personal hurt, but liking to believe it would. It didn’t matter in the end, anyway - it would have eventually come to this.
There was no real proof that Sherlock was anything other than what he presented himself as, but public opinion had made its decision and Greg had bent regulations to allow him in on cases. Cases that were now all being reopened - ‘looked into’ - and he loathed thinking what would happen if they started being overturned by the mere fact of Sherlock’s involvement.
Looking back, he didn’t regret his own actions. He stood by the choices he had made, and took the repercussions stoically. He did regret the ending - cases in question; all the work undone, little pieces of justice washed away like they had never been. (He tried not to think about it. It was too late; there was nothing he could do to change anything now.
The only changes he could affect now were in his own life. (His name, his reputation had been dragged through the mud everywhere it mattered right now; it might blow over at some point and it might not, but if it did it would be a long time before he could do the work he was trained for, was good at, again. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself in the near future, in any case.
Greg was a man who liked to work, liked to feel he was accomplishing something, doing some good. Without the work he just felt rudderless, adrift. He was good with his money, and close enough to retirement that he had enough put away so he would not have to worry for a while, but he’d have to do something soon or he’d eat himself away with his own listlessness.
But that was a battle for another day. He set it aside with respect to the now and a bouquet in hand.
Today he had a grave to visit.
~~
[And in my mind, three years later Sherlock comes back, is proven to be what he always was, saves the day in some spectacular way and gets his life [and rep] back. Then Anderson and Donovan -who were yes, doing their jobs, but I’m still kinda pissed at them - will get a niiiiice big slice of humble pie, and Lestrade will be begged to come back to his job because he’s excellent at it, and was right all along. (And he’s the only one Sherlock will work with now) What? This is my happy place - my happy place does not have to be realistic.]
Title: Collateral Damage
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: DI Lestrade
Word Count: 645
Beta/Britpicker: lydiaconspires, and smash_leigh who kindly ensure I don't make a fool of myself. ;)
Warnings: Reichenbach Fall Spoilers
Sherlock was not a friendly man, but he had become a fixture in Greg’s life, and even if the det-if the… if the other m- damn it, if the detective didn’t consider him one, he would still call Sherlock one of his friends. He still did, even now. Didn’t believe what was being said about him, refused to recant his faith in the man. He’d known him too long, seen him at highs and lows, and seen too much of what he could do to believe it was all a lie.
To the surprise of some, he was not a stupid man; Occam’s razor - the public loved a good scandal; they lapped it up whenever someone who made something of themselves fell - but acting, controlling every aspect of every case and performance since Greg had known the man? It was honestly just too difficult to pull off for that length of time; unrealistically involved and contrived - the most likely reality was the one he’d always believed to be true.
However, he was the only one at the yard to feel that way.
In the end, they allowed him the consideration of tending his own resignation. He had enough years of dogged, loyal service to be considered an unwitting dupe rather than an accomplice. Neither Donovan nor Anderson would make eye contact they day he walked out; head up, shoulders back. It was fine; they had both done what they thought was right - he didn’t agree with them, but he couldn’t fault the intention. He’d be a bit of a hypocrite if he did.
Lestrade was sure they hadn’t contemplated the repercussions of the initial action; didn’t see their DI taking his own fall along with the man they suspected. (The man they had always wanted to think the worst of - not that Sherlock made it easy to think well of him.) He shies away from the thought of how they’d have handled it if they knew; not sure the expectation of a superior officer would entirely outweigh the personal hurt, but liking to believe it would. It didn’t matter in the end, anyway - it would have eventually come to this.
There was no real proof that Sherlock was anything other than what he presented himself as, but public opinion had made its decision and Greg had bent regulations to allow him in on cases. Cases that were now all being reopened - ‘looked into’ - and he loathed thinking what would happen if they started being overturned by the mere fact of Sherlock’s involvement.
Looking back, he didn’t regret his own actions. He stood by the choices he had made, and took the repercussions stoically. He did regret the ending - cases in question; all the work undone, little pieces of justice washed away like they had never been. (He tried not to think about it. It was too late; there was nothing he could do to change anything now.
The only changes he could affect now were in his own life. (His name, his reputation had been dragged through the mud everywhere it mattered right now; it might blow over at some point and it might not, but if it did it would be a long time before he could do the work he was trained for, was good at, again. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself in the near future, in any case.
Greg was a man who liked to work, liked to feel he was accomplishing something, doing some good. Without the work he just felt rudderless, adrift. He was good with his money, and close enough to retirement that he had enough put away so he would not have to worry for a while, but he’d have to do something soon or he’d eat himself away with his own listlessness.
But that was a battle for another day. He set it aside with respect to the now and a bouquet in hand.
Today he had a grave to visit.
~~
[And in my mind, three years later Sherlock comes back, is proven to be what he always was, saves the day in some spectacular way and gets his life [and rep] back. Then Anderson and Donovan -who were yes, doing their jobs, but I’m still kinda pissed at them - will get a niiiiice big slice of humble pie, and Lestrade will be begged to come back to his job because he’s excellent at it, and was right all along. (And he’s the only one Sherlock will work with now) What? This is my happy place - my happy place does not have to be realistic.]