The case was easily solved. Yet again Sherlock's personal motto of "People see but do not observe" came into play. The children had snuck out the back door and were hiding in the woods, having left to meet some girls from a neighboring school. All in all, a boring case that had them back in the flat just a few hours after leaving. Sherlock spent the cab ride back muttering about hormones and how things never change. Idiots was also mentioned a fair number of times, causing John to cover his mouth and look out the window to avoid laughing outright at Sherlock's poor mood. He would never get a leg over if Sherlock thought he was laughing at him.
Several small cases popped up throughout the week and during one of them, John finally got a chance to talk to Lestrade again. "Greg, you, me, the pub, Friday night? That is if there is not a case and Mycroft will watch the kids."
Greg smiled as they watched Sherlock start rattling off facts to the poor constable in charge of following him and taking notes. Greg had long ago stopped trying to figure out everything the consulting detective said immediately and now put the lowest ranking officer on Sherlock duty. Much easier on him and a great way to initiate new officers into the world that is Sherlock Holmes. He was a bit of a legend down at the Yard after all. "Mycroft can always work from home that night if necessary. Sounds like a great plan. I never get a night off these days. Do you have a place in mind?"
"Depending on when you get off for the night, I figured we could either hit The Globe or St. George's. Either would work for me." The Globe was one that John frequented as it was close to the flat and provided the perfect location from hiding out when his partner's experiments were about to drive him around the bend. St. George's was close enough to New Scotland Yard to be convenient for Lestrade without being completely over run with Yardies enjoying their night off.
Pausing to think, he answered, "Let's go to The Globe. It is close enough to the tube that I should not have any problem getting home, and with the exception of Sherlock, there is not anyone in the area who could disturb us. If I don't get a certain distance away from the station, I feel like they know I am close and they call me back in. It's a sixth sense, I just know it. 8PM?"
That Friday, John bid Sherlock farewell for the night, leaving him to some mould cultures he would be happy to see in the bin very soon, and walked the few blocks to The Globe, where he sat at his normal table. Waiting for Greg, he placed on order for two pints and an order of chips, settling in to watch the game. Greg arrived about 10 minutes late, breathless and apologetic. Sherlock had been bored earlier that day and showed up at forensics to try and make Anderson cry again. Sally and Greg spent the rest of the afternoon coaxing him out of the 4th floor toilet.
"I wondered where he got off to," John chuckled, helping himself to another chip. "But considering he was not burning down the flat, I just considered myself lucky. Maybe I should put a tracker or something on him."
"He'd get it off and you know it," Greg replied, amused. "I know I should reprimand him for tormenting Anderson, but honestly, I find it hilarious. I shouldn't, but I do. If Anderson could just get thicker skinned, Sherlock would get bored. Oh well, grown men. They can work it out themselves or Anderson can run screaming into the night."
They laughed, talking about the game and just making small talk when a thought came to John's mind, "Greg, does anyone else down at the Yard know who you are married to?"
Exhaling sharply through his nose, Greg set his glass down and shook his head, "No. I don't even think they have a clue that my spouse is a man, let alone who the man is.
"I had just been recently promoted when we met the first time, over Sherlock's hospital bed following the first of his overdoses. My wife left me for someone from her work, and I sat at Sherlock's bedside since he arrived at A&E. You know what he is like, larger than life. Well, in that bed, he looked so young, frail and helpless, I couldn't leave him alone. I had been informed that his family had been called, but no one arrived right away. So I sat there, at the bedside of a junkie I barely knew, when this posh bloke in a bespoke suit walks in. He was tall, elegant, and perfectly put together, even at 3 in the morning. I, on the other hand, was a mess, grimy from pulling Sherlock out of the gutter; my hair going in every direction from running my hand through it, and running on no sleep and even less coffee.
"'Family, only,' I mutter, not looking him in the eye. He was so obviously in the wrong place that I assumed one look at the patient would have him turning on his heel.
"'If that is the case, then why are you here, Detective Inspector? I am certain I have never seen you at any family functions,' he smirked, in that knowing way that he has. 'I have to say that I am impressed with your dedication. Do you stay at the bedside of all the addicts that your find, or is my brother special in some way?'
"I gaped briefly before saying something along the lines of, 'He is special. I'm not sure how yet though. He is the most high-functioning drug abuser I have ever met. Until he overdosed this evening, I wasn't entirely sure whether he actually used or not. We have met several times previous and I couldn't tell if he was under the influence of something or just naturally, um, quirky. I felt he deserved to have someone with him. I guess now that you are here, I will, um, take my leave.'
"As I made my way towards the door, I realize I never introduced myself. Turning back around, I extended my hand, 'Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade. And you are his brother?'
"'Mycroft Holmes,' he introduced as he shook my hand. 'Thank you for your kindness towards Sherlock. He may be in a bit of trouble at the moment, but I assure you that he means the world to me, and I appreciate everything you have done to look after him. I would have been here sooner, but my job kept me held up.'
"I wanted to leave. You do not normally stick around with the family after all the paperwork has been taken care of, but even for all the masks and the wall of non-emotion that he put up, I could tell the man was hurting. I have 4 brothers and sisters, and I am the oldest. I could not imagine what he must have been feeling sitting there watching his brother lay in a hospital bed, particularly because of something he did to himself. I felt for this man, and so, I stood and offered him my chair, but stayed in the room.
"We did not really talk much. He did not touch Sherlock in any way, which seemed odd at the time, but now I know differently. He just sat there and stared at the younger man lying in the bed, while I leaned against the wall and watched the whole scene play out. It was late, probably half four or so, when I saw Mycroft rubbing his face with his hands. Pushing myself off the wall, I asked him, 'Do you want a cup of coffee or something? There is a place downstairs that makes a decent cup, especially for a hospital.'
"He merely nodded, but I could see in his eyes that he appreciated the gesture. When I returned, he had not moved, but his eyes were on me this time instead of his brother. Handing over the cup, he thanked me in a slightly broken voice. We drank in silence for a few minutes, before he began to speak, 'Sherlock is a genius, Detective Inspector. In the truest sense. He has the mind of a scientist or a philosopher, but he does not know what to do with it. School never challenged him, and while he excelled at uni when he went, it still was not the best environment for him. And now, with no career and no schooling to keep him from becoming bored, he has found other ways to keep his mind occupied. I have no doubt that this overdose was no accident. He is too intelligent to miscalculate in that respect. We will send him away for treatment, if he recovers from this. It would not do to let him continue on this path of self destruction. I believe that with the right guidance and some patience, my brother could become a valuable member of society yet.'
"He continued talking throughout the night, telling me about boarding school, growing up with Sherlock, and just bits and pieces of their lives. He explained that he occupied a minor role in the British government, but the way that everyone who came and went treated him, I quickly figured out that it was probably a much more important job than he let on.
"The next morning, I needed to return home to shower before my next shift, and while I had sat up all night talking with this man I barely knew, mostly about his brother who I should, by all respects, be arresting, I felt rather energetic. He rose to shake my hand, and stated simply, 'I will be in touch, Gregory. Thank you for everything you have done for Sherlock.' I smiled at him, told him it was my pleasure, and left for home.
"When I reported to work later that day, some of the other officers were talking about that "freak" addict that had been found the night before. Apparently after I left the hospital, some other DI went to try and get a statement from him. All the talk around the station was that the "freak" had a terrifying brother, who managed to get the entire Scotland Yard staff thrown out of the hospital with just a quirk of his eye brow and a quick text from his assistant, who also arrived after I had departed. The Holmes brothers were quickly despised by the rest of the my coworkers, so when Mycroft arrived on my doorstep that night with a bottle of Bordeaux and did not leave until three days later, I knew I should probably keep the relationship quiet, at least for awhile.
"Everyone knows that I remarried, but have been told that we eloped. In all honesty, Mycroft showed up at our house one day with papers which we both signed, and within minutes it was official. No ceremony, no witnesses, just the two of us and a pen. We did go away for two weeks afterward, and as far as anyone at the Yard is concerned, we got married in Costa Rica. People always rib me about not bringing my wife to Yard functions, and I always respond with 'Oh, they were busy tonight,' which is usually true. After all, it is hard to run the British government and have a night off, even for the holidays. I am still not sure how we managed to have a two week uninterrupted honeymoon.
"Someday I will tell them. You would think by now the fact that I never use gender specific pronouns when referring to my spouse, and the fact that I never bring the kids to the family events, they would have some idea. I just don't know how they would feel when I introduce my children Thomas and Liam Holmes."
"So the boys have Mycroft's last name? How did you decide on that? I can see why you two didn't change yours. We thought about staying John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, but it means a lot to Sherlock, so we will be going the hyphenated route." John smiled, thinking that in a few months time they would finally be official, Sherlock and John Holmes-Watson.
"Well, like I said, I have 4 brothers and sisters. Each of them have several kids. There is no fear that the Lestrade name will not be carried on. The same could not be said for Mycroft. When we got married, it seemed a very slim chance that Sherlock would ever meet anyone who would put up with him for a short amount of time, let alone agree to marry him and raise a family. We had no idea that anyone like you existed, John, though I am happy that you do.
"Anyway, we were concerned that the Holmes name would die with Mycroft and Sherlock. For such a presitigous family, it seemed a real shame, so when Liam was born, we agreed that he should be Liam Holmes. Later on, when Thomas joined the family, we again talked about Lestrade, but decided it would be weird for the boys to have different last names, and since it honestly did not matter to me, Thomas Holmes was christened as well. Mummy was thrilled, Mycroft was pleased, and anything that makes Mycroft smile like that is just fine by me."
Pausing to think and have a sip of beer, Lestrade looked at John curiously, "Besides me, are you inviting any other Yarders to the wedding?"
"Well, Sherlock put Anderson and Donovan on the list, just to be a twat, and I know, that while she is not officially a Yarder, Molly is invited as well. So there may be a couple, why?"
"It just seems like that might be the best place to 'come out' as it were. It is not like either Mycroft or I would miss it for the world. Sherlock Holmes finally met his match and the whole family is just thrilled. I hope you know that. We are pleased to have you joining us. Me, most of all. It will be nice to have a normal bloke to watch football and drink beer with at family functions. You can only discuss so much politics and drink so much wine before you really need a break."
"I hear you there!" John chuckled.