REVEAL PART 2? 3? CHAPTER!
WARNING BOTH JOHN AND GREG SWEAR.
BABY DOES NOT LIKE
ENJOY
"...What?"
"You heard me...he's not dead. Look I only found out recently myself. And its all very complicated. But I thought now that Moran was dead you deserved to know."
"...You're joking. Right? This is a joke." He faked a laugh, his eyes hurt.
"Greg.."
"It's not bloody funny!"
"I know!" Rupert blinked and let out a wail. What do I do? Ok, calm down, it's alright. He sshed the infant and tried to mirror what he'd seen others do to calm down children. "But it's true..."
Silence.
Shit, did I kill him? He's not moving...oh wait...nevermind.
Greg's fists were clenching and unclenching, shaking, most likely with fury. He was biting his lower lip and staring at the wall. He looked as taut as a violin string. And then suddenly he took a breath and relaxed. The Inspector looked at John with a mixture of anger disbelief and confusion. Sherlock was..alive? That didn't make sense. He'd seen the body. He'd helped to bury it. He'd cleared the boy's name. He'd fucking named his son after him.
And he wasn't even dead?
"Tell me everything."
Where should he even start? He barely knew everything himself. He would just have to go with what Mycroft had told him and leave it at that for now.
"Look...he knew back then, on the roof, that there was a possibility he wouldn't make it out alive. He guessed Moriarty's plans, I suppose. He arranged things so that if he had to fake his death, it would be as realistic as possible. And we both know why he felt he had no choice."
"...Fuck we do, don't we. Those bloody snipers."
"Yes well..after that I think he waited a bit before going to Mycroft. Still had trust issues. And then...as hard as it is to believe. He travelled the world with Mycroft's men, helping to capture Moriarty's."
"Shit...really? No...really?" It seemed hard to believe. What would Sherlock gain from doing that.
"Yeah...and the reason he couldn't tell us is because those men were still watching. Any inkling that Sherlock was alive and they had orders to shoot us. Moriarty took no chances." Shit kid. Why? Why'd you do it? Why'd you do it all by yourself? Could have helped...
"..And this...Moran bloke...he worked for Moriarty, right?"
"Yeah, second in command."
"And he's definitely dead."
"Absolutely."
Silence.
"And how are you taking this?"
"Terribly."
"Right."
...
"I think you're mental." John couldn't help it, he chuckled. Either Lestrade didn't believe him and thought he'd cracked, or he did and couldn't believe John would still go after a man that wanted to shoot him, after everything he'd gained.
Greg smiled. "He's really alive?"
"Yeah...he's in this hospital actually." The smile fell. Ooops. Probably shouldn't have said that.
"What? This one? What happened?! Is he ok?" Well he got over his disbelief easy.
"Calm down. Yes this one. He got...he got shot."
"What?!" Shit, keep quiet Greg, you're pissing off your own kid here.
"Sssh."
"Sorry, sorry. He got shot?"
"Technically speaking so did I, but I was wearing protection. Sherlock wasn't. I've been assured he will make a full recovery. You are not to go see him."
"Why shouldn't I? Bloody idiot." John shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to explain what had happened to Sherlock. Though Lestrade would surely discover things for himself in due course.
"Because he's not really up for visitors yet. I'm allowed, but he was barely conscious when I saw him."
"Fuck.."
"Greg. Promise me you won't see him."
"I can't John. But I'll keep it in mind. It's not that I don't believe you, but...I need to see him with my own eyes. Can you understand that?" Yeah...that makes sense. He nodded, deciding it was time to hand back a bemused and upset baby to it's father.
"I get it Greg. It's just...complicated."
"I know. God, with him it's never ever simple." John managed a small smile at that. Very true.
"Well.. I better get this one back to his mum. Look, John. This...is a lot to take in. And I can't decide who to be more pissed at right now, so I'm going to go. You and I and Sherlock the idiot, will be having a chat very soon." God, he sounds like a dad already.
"Sure, whatever you say." God, no. "Nice meeting you Rupert. Greg."
"I'm glad you're alright John."
"Me too. Later, mate."
"Bye."
Fuck.
Just...
Fuck.
He was getting too old for this. His hair couldn't get anymore grey than it already was.
