Privilege
Title: Privilege
Author: Alaylith
Rating: G
Characters: Lestrade; little bit of Holmes&Watson
Summary: Lestrade realizes something important about these two strange gentlemen he has the honour to know. (July Prompt 18)
WordCount: 416
Prompt: July 18 ~~~
Author's Note: Just after thinking that I finished all parts concerning my burning house, we get this prompt! ._. At least I got an idea what to do with this; it was time for another character to be included again. It's nothing fany and at first I thought it would be stupid, but I was quite surprised with the ending myself, which I really like. XD
It's funny writing a story of which you have no idea what will happen. :b
This is a companion piece to Call My Name and happens at the same time.
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Lestrade stares shocked at the burning building and he feels how his heart stops beating for a moment.
Thanks to bureaucratic slowness it took Lestrade longer than he anticipated following Mr. Holmes to the house where they knew the doctor was held captive.
Lestrade balls his hands to fists, for the first time cursing his profession and the law, because of this he was too late and now…
Now the two greatest men he ever knew were gone.
He swallows tightly, fighting against the burning in his eyes and watches numbly how the flames devour the dark building and the smoke covers the stars with a deadly blanket.
He hopes that they were at least together…
Out of the corner of his eyes he sees a shadowy figure leaving the building and disappearing in the darkness.
Cold fury threatens to overtake him as he thinks that that had to be one of the men responsible for this tragedy and he runs towards where he saw the shadow disappear.
As he draws nearer he recognizes two persons on the ground and just as he reaches for his gun he recognizes something similar about the silhouettes and stops a few feet away.
He can only see their shapes, but he would always recognize these two men. Mr. Holmes lies on his back and Dr. Watson kneels at his side, desperately calling his friend’s name.
Lestrade’s feet refuse to move, his ears picking up the pleading whispers of the doctor. He can not move closer; this is a moment he dares not to interrupt.
“Sherlock!”
Never before and never again did Lestrade hear the doctor’s voice so desperately and pleadingly using a name he never thought he would hear leaving the doctor’s lips.
Lestrade often wondered about why these two men do not call each other by their given name; they know each other long enough and care a great deal for the other.
Even he and his colleagues call each other by their given names as long as it was only them.
But as Lestrade watches now how the doctor calls his friend and when the amateur detective finally answers in the same manner (“John…”) he realizes that their names were never a barrier.
They are a privilege; something both respect and honour.
With this thought Lestrade turns his back and looks at the burning house; the bright flames reaching upwards to the dark sky.
It is not his place to watch; this moment only belongs to them.
Author: Alaylith
Rating: G
Characters: Lestrade; little bit of Holmes&Watson
Summary: Lestrade realizes something important about these two strange gentlemen he has the honour to know. (July Prompt 18)
WordCount: 416
Prompt: July 18 ~~~
Author's Note: Just after thinking that I finished all parts concerning my burning house, we get this prompt! ._. At least I got an idea what to do with this; it was time for another character to be included again. It's nothing fany and at first I thought it would be stupid, but I was quite surprised with the ending myself, which I really like. XD
It's funny writing a story of which you have no idea what will happen. :b
This is a companion piece to Call My Name and happens at the same time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lestrade stares shocked at the burning building and he feels how his heart stops beating for a moment.
Thanks to bureaucratic slowness it took Lestrade longer than he anticipated following Mr. Holmes to the house where they knew the doctor was held captive.
Lestrade balls his hands to fists, for the first time cursing his profession and the law, because of this he was too late and now…
Now the two greatest men he ever knew were gone.
He swallows tightly, fighting against the burning in his eyes and watches numbly how the flames devour the dark building and the smoke covers the stars with a deadly blanket.
He hopes that they were at least together…
Out of the corner of his eyes he sees a shadowy figure leaving the building and disappearing in the darkness.
Cold fury threatens to overtake him as he thinks that that had to be one of the men responsible for this tragedy and he runs towards where he saw the shadow disappear.
As he draws nearer he recognizes two persons on the ground and just as he reaches for his gun he recognizes something similar about the silhouettes and stops a few feet away.
He can only see their shapes, but he would always recognize these two men. Mr. Holmes lies on his back and Dr. Watson kneels at his side, desperately calling his friend’s name.
Lestrade’s feet refuse to move, his ears picking up the pleading whispers of the doctor. He can not move closer; this is a moment he dares not to interrupt.
“Sherlock!”
Never before and never again did Lestrade hear the doctor’s voice so desperately and pleadingly using a name he never thought he would hear leaving the doctor’s lips.
Lestrade often wondered about why these two men do not call each other by their given name; they know each other long enough and care a great deal for the other.
Even he and his colleagues call each other by their given names as long as it was only them.
But as Lestrade watches now how the doctor calls his friend and when the amateur detective finally answers in the same manner (“John…”) he realizes that their names were never a barrier.
They are a privilege; something both respect and honour.
With this thought Lestrade turns his back and looks at the burning house; the bright flames reaching upwards to the dark sky.
It is not his place to watch; this moment only belongs to them.