Hey Guys...or Guy. I only got 1 review...bummer. Oh well, as much as I love reviews, I am still continuing. But if you do like it then please review, I do prompts or whatever and stuff...god I am rubbish at this.
Anyway, here is the next chapter and dedicated to FireIceRagingDetective I loved your review, it brought a smile to my day!
The Doctors: Silver
John stepped out cautiously of the grey stone apartment building. His face lined and eyes wrinkled and puffed up due to the lack of sleep. They stared out at the busy London street, the blue irises arching skyward to a noon day sun. He blinked a couple of times; adjusting to the light as he hadn't been out at all for a couple of days and so natural light shocked him. His hand rose and he lifted his cane to click on the concrete as he walked at a leisurely pace right of the building. He didn't have a place to go he just…went.
Today he had pulled on a plain white shirt, patterned in squares by straight, black lines. This, paired with a maroon cardigan and a jacket made for an unassuming outfit. He continued walking for a while, going through main streets to the park before a noise interrupted his thoughts. The cell phone rang and he fumbled to get it out of his pocket. Squinting, he brought the phone close to his eyes to look at the caller ID. He sighed. Lestrade.
Since the funeral, the silver detective had spoken to John once. He had come by the flat, when John was in the early stages of a deep and grief stricken depression. He had busted the door open with a flourish to find John sitting at his desk, his laptop open in front of him and his hands frozen in front of the keyboard.
"Look, you can't keep doing this, John!" He had said, flinging his arms around and walking over to his friend. It hurt him to see him so cut up about Sherlock- the man had been a fraud. A liar and a hoax and John was grieving like that man had been his brother. I mean, crikey, he'd had to do a lot of paperwork at the office just to get him of the hook. The man wasn't worth it.
Lestrade moved over towards the man, who looked dazed and finally looked up to face him. He stretched his fingers and turned to the detective, who was by now pulling up a chair. He took one look at the computer's screen and let out a sigh. The screen held two tabs, the first main one was "The Personal Blog of Dr. John. H. Watson" on a new post.
16th June: Untitled
He was my best friend and I'll always believe in him.
"John." Said Lestrade. He moved closer to him, the chair scraping on the short carpet. John furrowed his brow, his head doing a double take as he turned to Lestrade, his hands unmoving.
"Hmm?" He said, dazed. Good Lord, how long had he been like this? Thought Lestrade. He budged closer, hands resting between his legs, elbows on knees as he bent closer, imploring to John.
"John, listen to me! What are you doing?" he started to say, trying very hard to keep his voice level. It wasn't working. This got John's attention. He turned fully round in his chair now.
"What do you mean?" Lestrade threw his arms out.
"This! I mean, he was a fraud, he played you John!"
"No…no he didn't." said John, frowning.
"John…he was a lair. And I'd be lying to if I said it didn't hurt. Blimey I've lost my job for this! And they put bloody Anderson in charge, and god knows he is a bloody idiot! But you can't let it stop you."
"Sherlock…" John gulped as he said it. "Sherlock…wasn't lying."
"Yes! Yes, he was. So, buck up!"
"No…no he wasn't, Greg." John's tone was icy now and Lestrade couldn't look him in the eye. He shuffled uncomfortably in his chair.
"John. You need help. Crikey, I need help. That man destroyed our lives. We're better off with out that machine!" He cried.
"Get out." Said John softly. So softly, Lestrade nearly missed it. But he didn't and his blood ran cold.
"W-What?"
"Get…Out." Said John, breathing slowly and heavily, as though trying to suppress it all. Lestrade stood up exasperated and stomped back to the stairs, pausing then and spinning on his heels.
"John. You are better than this. He isn't worth it. He was a fraud and he certainly wasn't your friend." Then he coughed, turned back and walked down the steps.
No…that's you, Lestrade.
That was the last time they had spoken, the finality of it was paramount so John was surprised to see that number appear on his cell. He huffed and gave in.
"Greg." He said, his back straightening, expecting the insults and idiotic comments. But what he got…surprised him.
Its not that long but its good enough...and I wonder what Lestrade will say? Any ideas? - H x