Hi there, and welcome to Part III of Paths We Walk Together!

This really will only make sense if you've read the previous parts, but if you feel like trying to piece together what happened without reading them, go for it.

(remove spaces in links - or just look at my recent works)
Part I: www . fanfiction . net s/12587776/1/Unavoidable
Part II: www . fanfiction . net s/12632767/1/The-Stairs-Back-Up

Greg was still in a state of stunned silence. Sherlock was alive, and standing there before him. He felt his emotions begin to overwhelm him again, and he couldn't fight the tears forming in his eyes. Sherlock crooked his head slightly, not understanding what was happening. It was all just too much for Greg.

"Are you alright, Greg?" Sherlock asked. Greg nodded, but then shook his head. Sherlock remained confused. He waved his hand for Sherlock to follow him to his car. He just needed to sit down.

He unlocked the vehicle and climbed into the driver's seat. Sherlock was hesitant, but joined him in the passenger side. His movements were slow, and Greg noticed a small wince as Sherlock seated himself.

"You alright, Sherlock? You seem to be in pain."
"I'm fine."
"What happened? You've got a split lip and … were you punched in the nose?" Greg asked, now being able to see him up close.
"Head-butted, actually." Sherlock said, smiling.

Oh how Greg had missed that smile. He felt more tears fall. Sherlock looked concerned.
"You don't normally express your emotions this much." He stated, not sure if he should ask for a reason.
"Maybe not before you left." Greg commented, and Sherlock sunk into himself.
"I'm sorry."

Greg looked at him firmly.
"I'm just glad you're here. Really."

There was some silence.
"I missed you." Sherlock said quietly. He sounded so vulnerable. Greg wanted to just hug him again… but the car seats made that rather difficult.
"I missed you too… more than you know."
"But it's ok… I'm back now, things can just go back to how it was before." Sherlock said hopefully. He eyed Greg in the way that the DI had learnt meant 'I'm not sure'. Greg sighed deeply.

"No, Sherlock. Things won't ever go back to how it was before." Greg said sincerely.

Sherlock groaned, actually groaned, and drooped in his chair. Greg instinctively moved his hand out to stroke Sherlock's back like he'd done in the past while Sherlock was recovering. He didn't expect the man to flinch away before Greg's fingers even touched him.

"Sherlock?"
"Sorry. I… it's a bit sore, right now." Sherlock uttered, almost embarrassedly.
"Why? What happened?"
"Just… my time away has not been easy, Greg."

Greg stilled as he heard those words. He mightn't know what exactly had happened, but he knew Sherlock enough to know that it meant something bad. The man always did downplay everything physical, especially injuries. It was always a contrast to his emotional outbursts, which were often exuberant and childish. He didn't want to push Sherlock too much right away. He could understand how emotional it could be for him. Hell, it was bordering traumatic for him even.

"Where were you all this time?"
"I… I don't know if I can say."
"National secrets?"
"Well, yes, but you have the clearance for it. No, I just… don't know if you'd be willing to hear."
"Sherlock… look at me." Greg was staring at the man, but Sherlock's blue eyes remained on the car's floor. Reluctantly, Sherlock lifted his head up and looked at Greg.

"I am not angry that you were gone, alright? I mean… I am hurt, that you could do that to us and leave. But… I know you, and I know you wouldn't have done it unless there was no other option. It'll be a lot easier for me to know what those reasons were, ok? I just am so glad that you're here. You don't know it, but I once said that I didn't care how… I just wanted you back. And I mean it."
"Greg… you were always the kindest man I knew."

Greg beamed.
"So what happened?"

Sherlock sighed. He took a deep breath, as if bracing for something difficult.
"Moriarty had to be stopped. He gave me the end game - kill myself and complete his story, or he'd shoot everyone I cared about. You, John, and Mrs Hudson."
"My God…" Greg breathed. He hadn't anticipated that.
"There were 13 possibilities once I got up on the roof, each one meticulously planned out…"
"Wait."

Sherlock raised his eyebrow. Greg had just asked him what happened, and now didn't want to hear it?

"I … I don't think I'm ready to hear how you did it, ok? It's all a lot to take in, and I'm not doing so great right now."

Sherlock's expression softened. He could read that enough on Lestrade's person: anxious, stressed, overworked, depressed, worried…
"That's fine. Thank you for telling me."

Greg nodded. He'd learnt early on that Sherlock needed to be told things directly, since he wasn't going to pick up on the subtle clues. It had made their association a lot easier after that discovery.

"Oh, John! Does he know? I'm assuming not everyone can know you're alive?"
"Indeed, it is still a secret. And yes, he definitely does know I'm back." Sherlock said, his voice hinting at something more than the words. He indicated to his face, and Greg's eyes widened in horror.
"What? Are you serious? He did that to you?"
"Yep." Sherlock said, popping the 'p' like he sometimes did.

Greg was suddenly angry. What the hell was John thinking? That Sherlock pretended to be dead just for fun? That he didn't have a good enough reason? Greg growled to himself. How dare John treat his friend like that. They were granted a miracle, and John was going to try get rid of it again?

"Don't be angry at him, Lestrade. He has a right to his feelings."
"But doesn't he see how hard it would have been for you too? John gets lost in his anger sometimes, but damn… I would have thought he'd think a little more."
"Well, to be fair… I wasn't as sensitive about the topic as I should have been."

Greg looked at him, and Sherlock gave a sheepish look. Of course he wasn't.
"What did you do?" Greg asked with a sigh, his body dropping back into the seat.
"I … well, I … interrupted his proposal, made jokes about his moustache, and tried to explain to him why I did what I did only to have him shut me up with statements that he didn't care how I faked it or why."

Greg laughed.
"Oh Sherlock, you have to have more tact that that."
"Yeah, I'm still working on that. Two years alone has made me forget some of those rules."
"You… you were alone, all this time? Doing what?"
"Dismantling Moriarty's web, of course. You three were still in danger! I couldn't stop until I was certain that I'd ensured your safety."
"My God Sherlock." Greg uttered. He'd been entirely alone, under cover, hunting criminals just to keep him, John, and Mrs Hudson safe? There was no way he could be angry at the man now, even if he had been before.

"Have you been able to tell Mycroft? He's been away for the past few days out of contact…"
"Oh, Mycroft knew all along. He helped me orchestrate it all."

That stuck a nerve. Mycroft knew… all this time?
"… that BASTARD!" Greg shouted, causing Sherlock to jump in his seat. Greg clutched the wheel tightly, his knuckles white. He was furious and panting.
"That fucker! Lying to us all this time?!"
"Greg…" Sherlock wasn't sure why Greg was so angry all of a sudden. Especially angry at Mycroft instead of him. Why did it matter so much Mycroft's involvement?

Greg clenched his jaw as feelings of betrayal overwhelmed him. How could he do this? He trusted Mycroft completely… and yet he'd sat by and watched as he devolved so far down into depression that he tried to take his own life? And said nothing?

"When he gets back-"
"Oh, he's back already. I was in his office earlier today."
"WHAT?"

Ok, that does it. He ignores me while he's off somewhere - now it seems like he went to collect Sherlock - and didn't even let me know that he was back? After I was worried sick over him? Fuck, he really doesn't give a shit about my feelings.

"Buckle up." Greg utters through clenched teeth.

Sherlock said nothing and complied. Greg revved the engine to life, and angrily shifted gears to reverse.
"Where were you headed after this?"
"Um… 221B. Was going to see Mrs Hudson."
"I'll take you."

Lestrade was short with him, and obviously very angry. Angrier than he'd seen the DI before. He was a little worried, but also curious still as to why. He observed the detective carefully, and suddenly understood. Lestrade was in a relationship - with his brother. The thought shocked him. He wasn't…opposed… to it, it was just unexpected. Things had certainly changed a lot since he'd left. Why had Mycroft never mentioned it? He noticed his brother was more emotionally taxed when they were in his office, but never would have guessed that this was the reason.

"Um… Greg? Maybe it might be better to drive when you're not so… enraged?" Sherlock asked timidly, noticing the high speed and dangerous turns. Lestrade ignored him, and so Sherlock looked ahead through the windscreen and silently gripped the handles tighter.

They approached Baker Street, and Greg pulled over to the side to let Sherlock out.
"Thanks… I … think." Sherlock stated, a little pale. "Where are you going now?"
"Home." Greg grunted, and Sherlock quickly figured out that he'd moved in with Mycroft and was about to confront him.
"Ok, I'll talk to you soon." Sherlock said a little nervous, and closed the door.

He stood and watched the car speed away, and was glad that he wasn't his brother at this point.