Of Paperwork and Shattered Glass

*Author's note* Well, this turned out a lot longer than I expected! Please review and tell me how you like it. I promise I'll be nicer to Lestrade in the next few chapters.

He clutched his coffee and took a few deep breaths. He was tired, his job had never been so exhausting and, at the same time, it had never been so boring. His team was not a lot of help, either. They had stopped making stupid jokes about Sherlock when he was around, but he still caught enough of it to be cross with them. He sipped at his coffee and burned his tongue. Well, Donovan would be more careful from now on. Lestrade buried his head in his hands. He was going to be topic number one at the chief superintendent's office after what he had done this morning. Maybe they would even fire him this time.

He was certainly not proud of the things he had called his sergeant, leave alone the fact he had thrown a heavy vase out of the window. The closed window.
For God's sake, yes, he had lost his temper, but she had wound him up with all her stupid innuendos and she just hadn't stopped, even though his shaking hands and the look on his face had been pretty unmistakable. It wasn't his fault if she didn't know when to shut up. He had warned her, hadn't he, he had told them time and time again that it was enough, that he wouldn't stand for it anymore, their low jokes and the smug smiles every time they heard his name. He had tolerated the way they had treated Sherlock, bullied him, even, gossiped about him. But, for heaven's sake, now he was dead and they still gloated about his failure!

A loud bang jerked him out of his thoughts. Someone stormed into his office and smashed a letter on his desk.
"That's really ridiculous!"
"Did you have to spoil my lunch break?" he asked quietly without raising his head.
"I don't care about your ruddy break," she hissed and weaved the letter in front of his eyes. "What the hell do you think that is?"
"Well, Jenny dear, I think those are the divorce papers I had my lawyer send to you."
Her eyes filled with fake tears. "And since when have we given up on each other?"
"I don't know when you gave up on us, probably when you started fucking that guy from your office. I must have given you up somewhere between the moment I was told that you had chosen yet another man over me and the moment I threw my wedding ring into the Thames."
"You did what?"

Her voice was so shrill, how could it be he never noticed that? He looked at the woman he had married ten years ago. She was still pretty, but she had definitely aged (not as much as he had in the past two months, though). Her blonde hair looked slightly unhealthy because she dyed it so often to hide the grey roots. Her skin didn't look as fresh as it used to, despite the expensive make up she spent half his money on. But she still had those bright blue eyes he had always admired. He had loved her once.
With a bitter sensation of finality he realized that this was no longer the case.

"How could you do that? What happened to the man I married? Your colleague just told me you attacked her this morning-"
"I didn't attack her, I smashed the window-"
"Bad enough! First you send me this stuff and now you're getting violent! That's the final straw, Greg!"
"You tell me about the final straw , Jenny! I had hoped that after you cheated on me for over a year - with two different men, mind you - and my friend flung himself off a rooftop… I thought you would at least be so kind and sign those bloody papers." Without meaning to, he had stood up and started shouting. The whole office must have been able to hear him, but he didn't care. For the second time that day the anger and the disappointment bottled up inside him broke loose. "I've got enough problems without you being all complicated! I've had enough, Jenny, I want it to end! I'm sick of waging war against you, and for God's sake, we both know we should have done this months ago, so why do you have to do all this?" He collapsed into his chair and continued in a lifeless, tired voice: "It's over, Jenny. Once and for all. If you still care about me at least a bit, sign it. You'd make my life an easier one." She threw him a long look, then grabbed a pen from his desk and put her signature next to his.
He could see he'd hurt her a lot more than he had intended. "I'm sorry, Jen," he whispered and tried a smile, but it didn't turn out very convincing.
"You need help, Greg," she said quietly. "Call me if you want to talk." He opened his mouth to thank her, but she cut him off. "I know you won't. See you around." She left and closed the door very carefully, as if he was sleeping and she didn't want to wake him.

Maybe she was right. He'd never admit it, but maybe he could do with some help.
He sipped at his coffee. It was cold.