Lestrade put his office phone down. All his surroundings, the sound of people typing on their computers, the cars of the street outside, people talking, all seemed so far from where he was now. He sees the people that`s out of his office, other officers that are busy trying to find out the whereabouts of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. The words of the officer, that was still waiting on the other side of the telephone line, were repeating themselves on his head, over and over, louder and louder.
"…it looks like a suicide, the guy jumped from the bloody St. Bart`s rooftop. That chap that we were looking for all over the city, Sherlock Holmes. It`s all kind of a mess in here, are you coming down here inspector? …Inspector?.."
Sherlock Holmes, dead? It can`t be. He knew Sherlock, he knew the man all to well and he was sure that he was not the suicidal type. Of course the last couple of days had been very confusing and utterly stressful; the last time he saw Holmes and Watson they were running away, becoming fugitives instantly. Since that moment the whole Yard had been following the tail of both men, but of course there was not trail, they were talking about Sherlock after all. And Lestrade, because he has always been a loyal man, tried his best to delay any lead that seemed maybe too close to catching them. He couldn`t help it, he didn`t believe that Sherlock was really a fraud, that he had played the role of a brilliant consulting detective (and man) all along, right? He couldn`t have….there`s no way, isn`t? Even though Lestrade decided to defend Sherlock after the disaster of trying to arrest him, there was always the little shadow of the doubt that made him mad. But suicide? No, the man had an ego that could reach the starts (ironically Sherlock didn`t show any interest for them or anything that wasn`t related to solving murders), he would never take his own life and stop himself from the thrilling adventures of being a consulting detective. He would shout at everyone that seemed not intelligent enough to follow his deductions (so basically, everyone) and show how all of them in the Yard were wrong and should do something better with their lives, but Sherlock woulnd`t take his life, right? RIGHT?
"..Inspector Lestrade are you there, sir?" Greg realised the officer was expecting an answer from him better than just the sound of his own breathing.
" erm..I`ll be there right away. Secure the area and don`t let anybody that we don't` know near there, understand?"
"Yes sir, mmm. Watson`s here" There was a bit of a silence and Lestrade could hear the background of the street from the other side of the line. "I`m not sure what to do with him, we tried to send him home, but he was just staring at us without even moving. I think he`s on shock, but wha-"
"Yeah, I`m on my way, okay. Just try to maintain some control on the place and I`ll be there in no time." He hanged up.
Lestrade needed time to think, to assimilate the new information he was getting, but his job had trained him to act fast, he had to see it with his own eyes the scene before he could believe that Sherlock Holmes actually...no, it can`t be.
He grabbed his cellphone, his inspector badge and went straight to his car almost jogging. He couldn`t help to peak at his watch every half minute as if it could make the time go slower and allow him to put some order to his thoughts, but the truth was that he didn`t have that much information, all he knew was that apparently, after being doubt at, the great Sherlock Holmes took his life. He didn`t noticed he had green light until the cars behind him started to blow the horn at him. Lestrade has never been a sentimentalist, and he wasn`t about to start now; however, he couldn`t help to feel a bit of despair spreading over his body with every mile he drove closer to the hospital. He had met Sherlock on his worst and now that he was on his best it hurt to know that it was over. And, if all his years on the department had taught him something, it was that any man, no matter how brilliant, under the right circumstances (well, wrong actually) could think that there was no way out and make serious mistakes. Lestrade surprised himself by those new thoughts; so now I`m not doubting Sherlock actually jumped, but giving him reason to..? Jesus fucking Christ.
When Lestrade arrived to the scene there weren`t as many people as he thought there will be, when he looked at the sidewalk a bit better he noticed that there was no body on the street. Oh, that`s why. No body, no fun. It was actually better that way, he didn`t want the papers bothering him right now, with a little luck he`ll deal with them after everything was already taken care of.
The day was a bit cloudy and it seemed like the rain will pour soon, just another normal day in London it will seem. But the constantly switching light from blue to red that came form the police`s car gave the truth away; this was not just another average day.
Lestrade saw John sited on the back of one of the few ambulances that were spread around the street; he had a blanket on and a jacket underneath, however, he looked as if he was shivering. The wind was chilli, but not as cold as to make a soldier quiver, Lestrade knew it was probably a result of the adrenaline John must have felt not so long ago. His eyes were lost somewhere on St. Bart`s roof; what was is looking at? Oh…oh. Greg only had to see where Sherlock`s body was supposed to have fallen to know that the spot where John was looking at was most likely the place where he last saw Sherlock alive. That thought broke Lestrade heart a bit, but he couldn`t let John notice, he had to be strong not only as head of the police department, but also as his friend, because if there was something John Watson was going to need on the times to come was a friend.
But there was still something he needed to see, even before heading towards John, he needed to see Sherlock Holmes.
His guys had acted very quickly, he arrived 13 minutes after the jump, 15 tops, and the body was already being transported inside the hospital. Lestrade didn`t have to get too close to the body to recognize the man on the ambulance`s bed entering the hospital, in fact he didn't, Molly was already there, taking care of things, he assumed. She crossed the space between them to give him a hug, Molly wasn`t crying, but he could tell that she had been until very recently.
"Oh Greg" Molly managed to say while she was still embraced by Lestrade, he hadn`t noticed but Molly wasn't holding him tight anymore, she was just giving him time to let go, at anytime he would like. It`s just incredible, even in these kind of moments Molly is thinking about what the need of others.
Lestrade looked once more towards Sherlock: no breath, no movement; those eyes were as blue as ever against Sherlock`s pale skin, that was now splattered with red lines, blood. For a moment reality crushed Lestrade with the undeniable truth. He broke the hug with Molly.
There was a side of Lestrade that was expecting to see Sherlock standing in front of him saying all of this was just an experiment and they could continue with their lives, but that was only his own silly expectations.
"I-I guess I have to go to work, we`ll talk later, okay?" He didn`t waited for an answer, but he knew that when time came, Molly will be ready to help him with whatever he might need.
"Cover him and take him inside already" Lestrade said to the officer that was next to Sherlock`s body, still without being able to get to close to the corps. He saw the ambulance bed go inside the building and fixed his hair with one hand (or made it even messier, depending on your perspective), as he always did when he was under stress. Now, let`s continue the procedure…let`s talk with the witnesses. This was always the hardest part; the time he had to perform the same old little charade in which he said he wouldn`t rest until whoever committed the crime was behind bars. Is not that he was lying; he took his job very seriously and always tried to do his best at it. But this time it was different, he`ll have to talk to John and of course John wasn't going to be happy with him, after all, his unit was already investigating and doubting Sherlock before the jump, they were going to actually bloody imprison the man for Christ`s sake! Lestrade felt a stab of guilt in his chest, a feeling he was sure it wouldn`t go soon nor easy. He doubted Sherlock when he needed him the most, not that Sherlock would ever going to say it, but he knew it and he couldn't help feeling his eyes watering by the sudden realization. He couldn`t held his look up anymore. Sherlock Holmes is not longer here…. I`m sorry Sherlock, I`m so sorry.