theunbeatableconductoroflight:

 

I was wondering if you’d be interested in fetching a pint with me this evening. Complain about work, life, women, Sherlock. The usual.

Sure, something weighin’ particularly on your mind?

askanthea:

 

She lifted Greg’s hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it, holding it there for moment. It was an effort to comfort him more than anything else. It was what she could do to help her husband. Henry Camden was right, this would be far harder on him and their children than her. 

“Ellie has a football match on Tuesday. William has chess club on Thursday  Parent teacher conference’s are Friday morning. Life goes on.” Even though everyone knew she wanted to maintain some sense of normalcy for the whole family. It was the best she could do for them. 

“But for now? I’d like to go out side, sit on the porch with you and listen to the music from the wedding? The orchestration of your punk songs.” Anthea squeezed his hand with a soft smile, “How does that sound?”

Greg watched her movements, tracking them with his eyes, committing the moment to memory. He would remember her like this, the strong, beautiful, ever logical woman. The very person that his youngest son so closely resembled.  He nodded.

“Life goes on.” He echoed, and long after she was gone and his heart broke, life would go on around their little family, one member less. And what she was saying to him, was that he should continue on with it. Live their lives when she was no longer with him. From his place right there, it seemed so bleak and impossible.  He didn’t want to think about it, just them for right now.

“Alright.” He said, standing, and taking her hand. He whistled, low, and smooth and a moment later the dogs came pattering down the stairs surging to the door where they could be let out. Greg started up the music and opened the windows, before leading her out, through the door. He settled onto the outdoor bench, pulling her close as his eyes tracked the dogs as they ran around the yard playfully.

Hello John. What can I do for you?

theimpossibleeccentric:

 

“You’re not listening,” Sherlock retorted sharply his temper short after so many day and nights of restless travel and constant danger, “I have every intention of being the one to tell John I’ve returned. Just not…” he trailed off again.

Sighing he finished, “Just not until I can gather my thoughts. Learn to finish at least finish two sentences in a row without trailing off.”

Haltingly Sherlock stood and limped into the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards for alcohol and two glasses. Pouring generous tumblers for both himself and Lestrade he limped back to the living area and set one glass down in front of Greg before falling back into his chair. Taking a fortifying drink he braced himself to finish the damned conversation. One hard conversation, one more time, then you can sleep. 

“I will swear on my life I never said any of this if you repeat it. Ever. But…if I was lucky enough to be let in the front door I’m honestly not sure I would know what to say.”

“How can I start that conversation? I’m back? I’m alive? I did it for you?”

He started to work himself up, “Even if I could get past that! What comes next? I couldn’t stop thinking about you? Worrying about you? Wondering what you were doing? If you were thinking about me? Missing me?”

“What comes next?”

Lestrade took the offered glass, pull it to his lips and taking a drink of the amber liquid, it was his father’s scotch. Strangely settling for such a moment, watching as a a man he called friend struggled. 

” I think you need to be honest, not logical. He won’t understand like I will. You left him in the dark when you could have told him what hwas happening. Could have given him a hint. Yes, I understand tha he would have been compromised but you need to realize that this is a man who invaded Afghanistan, who’s chased you through the streets of  London, who’s killed for you, yes, I know about that. He’s been at the business end of a gun. He’s going to feel betrayed, he’s going to feel like you didn’t trust him enough to tell him. It’s not logical,  but it’s what you’re up against.”

Greg stopped, letting the information soak in to the detective, taking another drink. “What comes next, is an apology, and then you get to be brutally, painfully, honest, and it will hurt you to expose yourself like this, but if you love him like I think you do, you’ll do it.” 

“I know you’re not at fault for all that’s happened, he does too. The fallout is an unfortunate side effect which you have to deal with, just like the rest of us have.” Greg looked up to the tall, lean man, and the last few months showed on his face, just like they would on John’s.