Hello guys! This story idea is actually based off something that somebody else noticed in the show... I won't give too much away! Hope you enjoy!

I do not own any of the characters in this story!

It had been three months since the fall. To John it felt like a year. Since Sherlock died he had locked himself away in his flat. Not 221b, he couldn't bear to go back there again, he had gone back shortly after the fall to collect his things but he ended up just sitting in his chair staring into nothingness, feeling nothing but everything at the same time. Everything in the flat just screamed Sherlock. The chair, how he used to perch on it in the depths of his mind palace, even the empty mugs on the side Sherlock had left, still half full with coffee – black two sugars. Everywhere he looked.

Mrs Hudson had come up after about an hour to see how he was doing as he said he would only take fifteen minutes. She found him staring into the distance, numb and empty. He didn't even respond to her calling him, just carried on staring into space. He didn't cry. That's the thing – he didn't ever cry for Sherlock anymore. He cried initially but after a few days it just turned into a feeling of numbness, he didn't have any tears left.

John was now staying in a smaller flat, still in London, but not central. It was about the same size as the flat the army had offered to him after being invalided home from Afghanistan. Mycroft had offered more than once to help subsidise the rent on a nicer flat, but John declined, refusing to speak to the man who gave Moriarty the ammunition to destroy his best friend. In fact, he never really spoke to anybody anymore. Sarah had come round a few times to try and talk, but John pushed her away, isolating himself even more. He'd heard nothing from Molly, he supposed he barely knew her really, she didn't even know his name until a year ago, and she had always spent more time with Sherlock in the lab than she had with him. John hadn't heard from the yard either, not that he wanted to. Sally and Anderson didn't attend the funeral, for more than one reason probably, but Lestrade was there. Yes, Greg. Greg who had known Sherlock for years before John knew him, Greg who had trusted Sherlock on cases, Greg who betrayed Sherlock, giving into Donovan's views, being taken in as well. One of Sherlock's closest friends, the traitor. John barely spoke a word to him at the funeral, and he hasn't seen him since. Probably out of shame. John thought he should deserve to feel ashamed. Greg obviously hadn't visited – until today that is.

It was a Friday afternoon when John heard the intercom buzz. Who the hell was it? Nobody ever visited John, not since he pushed them all away. He sighed, closing the lid of his laptop and walking to the intercom by the door, still in his dressing gown. He held the button.
"Yes who is it?"

"It's Greg"

"What the hell do you want?", the anger rose in John's voice.

"Mate I just want to talk to yo-"

"I am not your mate. Not anymore"

"I'm worried about you, John. You haven't seen anybody in the last month at least!"

"Just leave me, Greg"

"No John wait! I have something for you. I thought I should bring it round to you, I've left it long enough, it's been sat in my office for about two months"

"Fine" John finally gave in, unlocking the door.

John stared at the box on the coffee table. He was sat on the sofa, Lestrade stood to the side.
"What is it?" John asked.

"It's- um- It's Sherlock's things, John. The things we found, the things he was wearing, you know, that kind of thing"

John sighed with despair, covering his face. This box would no doubt contain some things that would bring back bad memories.

"Right. Thanks, I suppose"

"It's fine. I've been meaning to take these to you for a while and- well I just haven't found the right time to do it. We need to talk John, really. There's things I want to say to you and I hope you'll listen to me" Greg looked desperate and sorry, sitting down next to John on the sofa.

There was a long silence.

"Fine" John sat up, swallowing the lump in his throat, "Right, okay"

"Thank you. I know how hard this is for you, truly I do. My dad – he committed suicide when I was 15. Anyway, enough abou-"

"God I didn't know Greg, I'm so sorry"

"No it's fine. I just wanted to explain myself, John. I am so sorry. You don't mind talking about it do you? What happened?"

"Go ahead" John consented.

"When Donovan first came to me with the theory of Sherlock's criminal ways, I denied it completely. She couldn't believe that Sherlock had found everything out from a footprint. I brushed it off, I knew what he was like, I think I even referred to it as 'CSI Baker Street'", he laughed softly, "Anyway, Anderson soon got involved and they basically told me I had to entertain the possibility. I didn't believe them John, truly I didn't, but they put a nagging sensation in the back of my mind. God, I'm so ashamed", he put his head in his hands, then running them through his hair "I tried to stay neutral when talking to the superintendent, trying to hide the fact that Sherlock helped on the cases. He then ordered me to go and arrest Sherlock without a warrant. My hands were tied John"

"No don't act like you didn't doubt Sherlock. You did" John replied.

Lestrade help his hands up, "I know John. I do admit that for a time I did doubt him, I'm not going to lie to you. He took us all in, Jim Moriarty, he just finds ways of playing with your mind. I am so sorry"

"You said Moriarty... You- you believe he was real?" John asked, intrigued.

"Mate of course I do! I might not have been to him, but Sherlock was a friend of mine. I believed him, John, I still do. I believe in Sherlock Holmes"

For the first time in a long time, John started smiling.

"That means a lot, Greg"

"It's fine. Anytime you need me just call me. Really, anytime"

"I'll bear it in mind, thank you"

Lestrade smiled in reply "Anyway, I better get off, I'll leave you to... sort that lot out, when you're ready to of course"

"Of course. I'll see you then", John rose and shook Greg's hand.

"Look after yourself, John, alright?" he smiled slightly. John nodded in reply, then saw Greg out of the flat.

John looked to the box, wondering what was inside. Was he really ready to open it?

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, I felt that reunion was needed. Things do get a lot more interesting in the next chapter, which will hopefully be up soon!