[Sherlock]
I felt numb as the door slammed shut between us, and unconsciously reached out a hand towards it as though it would help. Lestrade still stood in front of me, watching and waiting for the reaction he was sure would come. I desperately wanted to say something to him to help him understand what I was going through since I was certain his inferior deduction skills would be unable to pick anything up. However, I couldn't find the words to describe such a feeling, so I let the silence hang between us. He still had an annoyingly concerned look on his face that I really didn't want to deal with, and I could tell that sooner or later he would attempt some form of comforting gesture, which would only make the situation more awkward than it already was.
I decided that not speaking at all would probably be the only way to get out of the room emotionally intact, so I began to walk towards the door purposefully. Lestrade moved slightly out of my way for which I was immensely grateful, though I would never tell him so. Just when I thought I was in the clear, I felt a firm hand grip my shoulder and I froze at the contact.
"Look...Sherlock," I heard him start behind me and I turned my head towards him questioningly. He showed no signs of lowering his hand even though the height difference must have been slightly uncomfortable for him.
"I don't need your condolences, Lestrade." I said angrily, and he gave me one of the looks of disapproval that I had received frequently from him before I met John.
"You know why I had to take him in, Sherlock. His actions have not only shown, but proved that he can be very dangerous if something upsets him. We both know he wasn't in his right mind when he did those things, but I can't just let him go free. What if something similar happened again? How would that make me look?" His eyes pleaded with me to see reason, but all I saw was the guilt that crowded the edges of his gaze. Interesting that he also blamed himself for John's actions. It seemed to me that everyone believed they had played a part in what had happened after my death. Well, everyone except Donovan. She just looked pleased at my apparent misfortune.
I didn't reply to Lestrade's questions, instead opting to continue with my escape from the flat. This time he didn't try to stop me, though he did follow me as I began my hasty retreat down the stairs and out the front door. Once outside I searched frantically for a taxi, as I could tell Lestrade was about to offer me a ride in his police car. To my disappointment, there were no taxis in sight, and I was practically forced by Lestrade to get in his vehicle instead. As I had predicted, the ride was silent and awkward. Neither of us were good with talking about feelings or trivial things, and I wasn't about to start making idle small talk. I attempted to retreat into my mind palace for something to do, but it was hard to concentrate when I could practically hear him thinking about how awkward it was. Why couldn't people just accept silence instead of filling it with useless chatter? I had no doubt that people would be much more intelligent if they actually stopped and thought once in a while.
Once we had finally arrived at the Yard and Lestrade had made a what he thought was silent sound of relief, I wasted no time in getting to John. I knew the way having been there many times before (not necessarily under arrest) and no one tried to stop me. They had taken him to one of the holding cells, and I found him there with his head in his hands and gently rocking himself. I could feel Lestrade's presence behind me but I ignored him in favour of leaning against the bars of the cell and clearing my throat to catch John's attention. He looked up, startled at the noise, but when he saw it was me he relaxed and came over.
"Mycroft will have you out of here soon, so don't get too comfortable," I joked with him, but he didn't return my smile. Instead, he began to talk, and I didn't really like where he was going.
"Listen, I've been thinking that it might be a good idea if I do go to prison, even if it's only for a year or two. It might help me accept what I did, and I might even begin to forgive myself if I suffer some sort of punishment for my actions." He looked nervous, probably unsure how I was going to react.
"You don't need to punish yourself, John. Just come back to me, carry on life as normal and we'll make it through. Let me call Mycroft now and he'll make the arrangements to have you let out."
"That's not fair Sherlock! I did wrong, and it shouldn't be legal for Mycroft to just remove all evidence of that! I need this. Please." He looked so sad, but at the same time, so hopeful. It disgusted me.
"I'll come back when you start to actually make sense." I growled at him, and stalked away, leaving him shouting after me. The conversation replayed itself over and over in my head, and I felt so angry that John would want such a future for himself. All for the sake of a clear conscience.
Then again, his strong morals had been one of the features that had attracted me to him in the first place. It didn't mean that I wanted him to waste his life in prison for something that wasn't entirely his fault, but I could see why he wanted to. The idea of release was certainly desirable. I turned around mid-stride and began to go back to the cell. I would give his opinions a chance. I wouldn't like them, but I would hear them out. Mycroft would be able to help out whatever the legal situation John found himself in, provided he was happy to return certain favours.
I wasn't going to post this tonight, but I was just in such a good mood! I just won Benedict's autograph on a Tumblr giveaway and I'm so excited now! I can't wait for it to arrive next week, eek! Hopefully the next few chapters will start to get more action-y and less feely, but I just need to see where each one takes me so you'll have to wait and see! Please review, I will answer any questions :)