A/N: Thanks so very much to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and/or followed the first chapter. Y'all made my day.
Chapter 2
It was a fine, if cold, day, but Greg's spirits were already quite cloudy. He was facing an inquiry on his methods because of the whole Richard Brooks fiasco. It was entirely unwarranted! He was a good detective, he really was. In fact, even without Sherlock's help, he was one of the best detectives in the Yard. He was just human.
Sherlock's humanity, however, was up for debate. In all the time he had known Sherlock, he had never, ever gotten anything wrong. But in spite of that, Greg knew that Sherlock was not a fake. An emotionless machine, perhaps, and an arrogant prick, but not a liar. Never that.
Greg was sitting at his desk, basically worrying, when his phone rang. It wasn't his normal phone, which he had turned off. It was his only-for-emergencies phone which he kept on and with him at all times. He jumped, and checked the caller ID. It was John.
"Greg Lestrade here. What's wrong?" he asked, hurriedly.
"Greg..." John's voice was wobbly and choked with tears. "He jumped, Greg. He's dead."
"Hold on! Who's dead? What's going on, John?"
"Sh-Sherlock. He... he said it was all true, that he was a fake, b-but... he wasn't, Greg, he wasn't!"
"I know he wasn't, John," Greg said, trying to calm John to the point that he could tell him what had happened. "I believe you."
"Right. Yeah, of course you do," John said, a little less manically. "Anyway, he told me it was all a lie, and then he jumped. Off the roof of Bart's. They... they told me he died instantly, but they wouldn't let me see him. Greg, they wouldn't even let me see him. I-" the rest of John's sentence was lost in shuddering sobs.
"Where are you, John?"
"At Bart's. The waiting room outside the mortuary."
"I'll be right there." Greg ended the call, and put his phone back on the desk. His mind was reeling. How could this be possible? How could Sherlock Holmes, unflappable, obnoxious, mad, brilliant Sherlock Holmes, be dead? It made no sense.
He left his office, slamming the door behind him, to find Donovan perched on Anderson's lap. They were snogging quite passionately.
"Don't do that at work, it's bloody indecent," he snapped.
They both jumped up, startled. Donovan looked like she was about to say something smart or rude, but changed her mind when she saw the look on Greg's face. "What's wrong, Lestrade?" she asked.
"Sherlock Holmes is dead." Greg said, tonelessly.
"The Freak's dead?" Donovan asked, disbelievingly.
"What happened?" inquired Anderson.
"Seems he jumped off a building."
"Well, that proves it, then! I said he was a liar." said Donovan, smugly.
Instead of answering, Greg simply turned and stormed out of the door.
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