Chapter 1- Beautiful Boy
Greg was sitting in his office when the phone rang. "Hello?"
"This is Dr Robert Chase. Detective Inspector Lestrade, we have your son, William Holmes-Lestrade, here at Kings College Hospital. He's been shot. He is in surgery right now."
He needed to run. He needed to call John Watson. He needed to call Violet. That was what was on his mind. Will, his son, had been shot. "I'll be there in 20 minutes," he told the doctor.
He ran to his car as fast as his legs would allow.
In the car, he dialled speed dial seven for Violet Holmes. "Gregory, what's up?" He didn't usually call her, not since Sherlock had been an adult.
"Will was shot."
"What happened?"
Greg sighed. "I don't know yet, I have to go."
"Update me, okay. I will be on the next flight to London."
"Okay, I'll update you," he said, hanging up his phone. He dialled John Watson's number.
John was not answering.
Greg tried again. John didn't answer but Greg sent a voicemail. "John, listen, Sherlock was shot. Call me if you can."
He drove straight to the hospital, breaking every single traffic rule.
When he got to the OR waiting room, John was there. "Where is he?"
John looked at Greg, surprised. "Surgery, they called you?"
Ah, Greg thought, John didn't know. Good, they talked about this, he and Sherlock. They were not telling people because of a conflict of interest. However, John Watson needed to know. "Sherlock is my son."
If John looked surprised moments later, he now looked like he would pass out. "How?"
"His mother and I had sex once. Simply, we never told you," Greg said. He looked at John and knew that something was not right. "John," Greg started gently. "What happened to Sherlock?"
"I can't tell you right now."
"John," Greg said warningly. "I know you know something… If I were you I'd talk or else I am going to have to bring you to the station."
John gave in right away. "Mary shot Sherlock, Greg."
Greg's hand shot to his mouth, instantly covering it. "How, oh god, where's that woman, John?"
John looked at Greg indignantly. "I can't tell you; she's pregnant."
Greg looked at him murderously and replied, "Harbouring a suspect, John. I could arrest you, right now."
John scoffed at him. "You wouldn't dare."
Greg stood up near John's face and spat, "My son is fucking laying on that operating table, who I might add you call your best friend. I buried him once and I would do anything to find that woman and bring her to justice, so tell me, John, what happened?"
John sighed, defeated. "We went to CAM's headquarters. I don't know why on earth Sherlock was there. I just followed him in and there was Mary wearing a ninja suit and I saw as she shot Sherlock."
Greg nodded to himself, satisfied. "Where is she?"
John looked reluctant.
"Oh, come on, John. Please, for Sherlock."
"Okay, I don't know. Check our house?" John said.
Greg texted Donavan. They were sitting on the uncomfortable chairs when John asked again, "How?"
"How what? Please be more specific, John."
John walked in a line to sit beside Greg."How did I not know this about Sherlock. You're quite young to be his father."
Greg sighed. "I'm not. I was 21 when he was conceived, 22 when he was born…"
"How did you and his mother meet?"
"At a club. It was March 1982 and I was still at university. She was 29 and finishing her doctorate degree. It was a one night stand. No, more, a three night stand. She lied to me, apparently her maman didn't like Mycroft's father as he wasn't French and subsequently had nothing to do with Mycroft. She made sure to get a Frenchman." Lestrade frowned in remembrance. "Will has Autism, John. The hospital bed will be very scratchy."
"Did you and Sherlock see each other when he was younger?" John asked, ignoring Greg.
Greg sighed. "We saw each other once or twice a year until I left for London to join the Metropolitan Police when he was six. Then two years later, he ran away from boarding school, Violet called me and I took him. We decided to enroll him at Eaton Square, and he lived with me."
"You call him Will?" John asked, glancing at the clock.
"Yes, and he calls me dad when he is with the twins." Greg shot up. "It's three and they are at school. William picks them up on Fridays."
"How old are the twins?"
"They're eight years old." He got his phone from his breast pocket and showed John a photo of his kids. "This is Gracie and Charlie and of course that's Will." He smiled.
"Sherlock looks like both of them, How did I miss this?"
"We never told anyone, because of conflict of interest."
"Who knows?"
"Donavan, the DI whom I worked under when I was a sergeant, Mycroft and his sisters."
"Mrs Hudson?"
"Yes. I was with Sherlock while he was in Florida that time."
"Moriarty?"
"I don't think so…"
"Donavan is rude to Sherlock. Is that an act?"
"Yes, that's an act."
They sat in uncomfortable silence, thinking about Sherlock when three o'clock rolled around and Greg called Mycroft to send the twins to Anthea home with them.
Then, there's a man in pink scrubs walking towards them. He gave John and Greg a thumbs up and approached them. "I am Dr Taub. I assisted in William's surgery. We repaired the damage to his liver where the 22 caliber bullet was placed. He's in critical but stable condition."
"Can we see him?" Greg asked.
"Oh, sure, he's in recovery right now. He will be in ICU and you can visit him there."
"Dr. Taub?" Greg said. "Can we bring some bedding? Will has Autism and he has sensory problems."
The doctor nodded. "We have sheets here, hypoallergenic, high thread count.".
Greg heaved a sigh of relief, John and the doctor talked some more.
"John, I'm off to Baker Street. You stay with Sherlock."
"Greg?"
"Yes, lad?"
"I love him, you know," John said.
Greg nodded at John. "I know."
He walked out to his car and called Mycroft. His relationship with Sherlock's half brother was good. They weren't friends but they respected each other. They cared for Sherlock deeply. "Myc? You have my girls? Sherlock is with John."
Greg could hear Mycroft sigh. "Greg, I have the girls. Where are you? What happened?"
Greg revved the engine. "According to John, they went to CAM's office and Mary was there and that bitch shot Will in the chest. I have to go. Look, Mycroft, I've got to run to Baker Street. Call you later?"
"Yes…"
"Myc?"
"Yes, Greg?"
"Don't do anything stupid, please. I reckon that we're dealing with someone dangerous, so, please." With a sigh, Greg hung up and headed to Baker Street.
When he reached his son's flat, he used his key to Sherlock's to gather bedding and left.
—
John waited for Greg to come back to the hospital. He sat in the ICU waiting room.
He couldn't believe that Sherlock was Greg's son. Somehow, it made sense. Greg and Sherlock's relationship superseded any mentorship or friendship; it seemed deeper.
Five minutes later, the doctor, Taub, came out, followed by four nurses. He beckoned John to come in. "He's fine, Dr Watson," Taub said. "His vitals look good."
"Thank you."
He entered Sherlock's room and took in the scene.
Sherlock looked pale and his eyes looked tired. There was an IV port and an intubation tube and a heart monitor.
John sighed and sat by Sherlock, and thought about Mary. Mary was a heartless bitch who didn't want her secrets out.
Mary, who was an assassin, killed people; he wasn't sure he could forgive her.
John wanted to scream, but didn't, because Sherlock was just asleep. He was quick to make up his mind.
He would be divorcing Mary, and after which fight for custody.
Greg knocked on Sherlock's door and entered. He instantly paled as if remembering a bad memory.
"Greg, what's wrong?" John asked standing up.
"I just need a moment," Greg said, moving to the window at the end of his son's bed. "Do you know why I do drug busts on him, John?"
"I wondered about that."
"William was a coke user, John, since back in Cambridge. Victor, his ex, introduced him to cocaine, that bastard," Greg said, his voice rough. "By the time he finished his Phd in 2007, he was using quite heavily and nearly dosed himself to death. I just had a flashback."
Greg made his way to Sherlock's side and squeezed his son's hand.
John didn't know how he should take it. He knew addicts, being a sibling to one. However, one thing in Greg's statement caught John's attention. "Sherlock had a relationship?"
Greg sat on the visitor chair. "Yes, he was involved with Victor for four years. He was the only relationship Sherlock had, but the relationship wasn't great."
"Why?" John asked.
"The bastard didn't respect my son," Greg said, anger in his voice. "Will was being Will and attached himself to that bastard. John, before I forget, I got a call from Donavan. Mary wasn't in your house."
John frowned at that. "I don't know where she is, Greg, and frankly I don't care. I'm planning to divorce her anyway." He was pacing down the room.
Greg nodded. "Where could she be, John?"
"I really don't know." John answered looking at the ground.
"She could be out of the country by now," Greg mused. "I want to get a hold of her. John?"
"I know, Greg, I demand answers too. Where did she come from?" A look of realisation dawned on John's face. "What did the flat look like? Our flat? Was she planning on coming back?"
Greg realised what John was talking about an instant later. John was the first one to speak. "My baby is with her, even if I love Sherlock, and I'm thinking it's returned." John looked at Greg, demanding his answers.
"He jumped for us, his friends," Greg said suddenly.
"What?" John asked.
"He told me when he came back I was so glad….. no it's William's story to tell. He has a reason why he left, John." Greg winced, they both knew that the inspector didn't mean to reveal that.
Those were the last words they said and they sat in nervous silence for a while until the team of doctors arrived. "Please leave for a while. We will call you both later and give you an update."
They left the room, and they both sat on chairs in the alcove outside the ICU.
John looked at Greg and asked, "What are we going to do, with Sherlock and Marry, Greg?"
"I don't know, John. Will may not like to press charges against her," Greg said. "When he and Victor were together, Victor was quite abusive and when they broke up he didn't want to press charges." He sighed. "Will doesn't understand that not all people who are nice are his friends, because most often than not people see him as Sherlock Holmes, the arrogant prick. But I see my vulnerable William."
"Yes, I can see that." John felt guilty because he had punched him. And the worst part of that was Sherlock didn't even fight back. But telling that to the man's father would not be productive.
"Also," Greg said, looking at John's eyes, "Will's loyalty to you would be very detrimental in this case."
Greg knows a lot more things than he's letting on. John thought. "What does that mean?" he asked.
Greg looked at him. Because Will had zero self-preservation. " Greg said.
"I gathered that."
Greg breathed. looked at John with murderous eyes. "If you hurt my son.."
"I understand." John was surprised, how protective Greg was of Sherlock. He didn't tell Greg that he already has.
They sat in silence until Dr Chase came out. They both stood up nervously. "The sedation is out of his system, and he's just sleeping. William has a slight fever of 37.9. We'll be looking after it."
"Infection?" John asked.
"We're still doing tests on him."
Beside him, Greg piped up. "Did he answer the questions correctly?"
"What question?" John asked.
"The neurological test," Greg said.
"Yes, we put out a tailor made test for him, Inspector," Chase said.
Greg and John both grinned. "Thank you, Doctor." Greg said first and John seconded the sentiment.
They went inside the room while Sherlock was still dozing lightly. Greg came first followed by John. "Will?"
Sherlock hummed in response, opening his eyes. "My chest hurts."
"Oh, Willy boy, I'm sorry. Your mother texted me, Will, and she's coming home."
"No, I don't want to see her."
"Oh, Will," Greg said.
John was watching Greg interact with Sherlock from the doorway. When Sherlock caught his eye, he said, "John, meet my father, Greg."
He smirked. "Nice to meet you, sir."