Fic: Life in the Ruins (9/9)
art by evian_fork
Life In The Ruins
A BBC Sherlock fanfic by arwen_kenobi
Chapter 9 of 9
Master Post can be found here
Lestrade hates hostage situations. Not only for the obvious reasons but also for the fact that it never ends well. He also hates being made to feel useless and his ability to be discreet and gentle vanishes when someone has a gun to someone's head. He cannot negotiate with people like this. He will not negotiate with people like this. For the first of many times Lestrade wishes he was allowed to carry a gun. It's probably because of people like him that he isn't. Because of people like John as well. John's up on the roof with his target in sight. Thank god for Mycroft and John's license to kill or whatever it is that lets him have that thing with no consequences.
As much as he is thankful for John's presence he really doesn't want to see him actually use the thing. He may wish people dead, he may fantasize about it from time to time but whoever doesn't imagine smashing their bosses' head in a moment of stress is lying, but he doesn't want to see more than he has to. He's seen enough death in his life, personal and professional, and this whole Sherlock thing really wants him to avoid even thinking of anyone's mortality for a good six years. Sherlock is somewhere up there with him. Lestrade isn't sure why he's up there but he's glad he's not trying to negotiate. Not after the last time he'd shouted his way into somehow ending a bank robbery. He will maintain that was beginners luck until his dying day. Letting Sherlock talk today, he reminds himself, is Step one on How To End This Situation Badly...
The negotiator, Willow Ichelson, is actually doing fairly well. She's been here for three years now and she's only lost one hostage in here work with the Yard. She's only lost one other in her previous job as well. It's terrible to be thinking of lives as an indicator of job performance but she is good. The man is calmed and his grip is loosening around the neck of his partner. The man holding the gun is Hal Price and the hostage is Julien Finch. Julien is a drug dealer, a small time peddler of cheap cocaine who has managed to get himself in trouble with some bigger fish. They'd threatened his life and Hal, who had found out about this, had acted accordingly. There are three less thugs on the street thanks to him.
Until this past Monday Hal had had no idea that Julien was a cocaine dealer. Now the fact that his entire relationship has been sort of a lie has pushed him into deciding Julien needs to die too. Lestrade can already see that this is going to end as a murder-suicide. Willow is here and Willow has a chance to get this sorted but he's seen this before. Hal has saved Julien's life and he's done horrible things to keep him safe. Julien is coming with him no matter where he goes and Hal has no intention of going to jail.
"His profession is not what you thought it was but his feelings for you have not changed," Willow is urging with as much passion as Lestrade has seen overwrought Oscar speeches. She's been harping on Hal and Julien's relationship for nigh on fifteen minutes now. "How he conducts business has nothing to do with his feelings for you."
"Yes they do!" Hal cries out, tightening his grip on Julien again. Julien chokes a little but lets out a ragged breath. "He lied to me. Everything was based on a lie!"
"Not everything," Julien manages to force out. "The...job was all."
Lestrade steps away and presses his ear piece closer in. "Still in sights?"
"Affirmative," comes the quick reply. "Aim's never left his back." Stop asking questions you already know the answer to, Greg is what John is really saying.
"Sherlock," Lestrade starts. Sherlock is on the same frequency as John is. "Does he have any clue that you're up there?" He doesn't really know why he's up there aside than to just watch over John. Maybe to keep him out of the way of Willow's efforts but it's not like that's stopped him before. He's interfered from every barrier but sea apparently. Sherlock eventually answers no but he is very obviously distracted. Lestrade doesn't sign off but over hears Sherlock wriggling and banging on something. The roof they are stationed on is the roof of Hal and Julien's flat block and Sherlock has been convinced since day one that Julien's been protecting Hal all this time. Julien's business hadn't bothered anyone until someone had harassed Hal on the street one night. Lestrade frankly admits that Sherlock is very probably right there but there's simply no evidence of it at present and Sherlock very badly wants to find it.
"There's nothing there," John huffs in the background. "If he wanted to do the job properly he wouldn't leave a sign."
"Yes he would," Sherlock snapped. "I left you one, didn't I?"
Oh lads, Lestrade moans mentally. Lads, lads, lads, don't have a domestic up there. Now is really not a good time...
John snaps back that it hadn't been a very good one and it still hadn't help any when he had figured it out. "Being made to feel like you're mad is not a pleasant feeling."
"Neither is working so hard to keep one man safe! Nothing goes as fast as you like or as smooth as you like but you can't just stop!"
"You didn't need to protect me!" John snarls. "I could have helped!"
"You would have been dead before I'd spoken the words!"
Lestrade can't keep silent anymore. "SHUT UP!" he bellows. The feedback makes him wince. "Sort it later!" The negotiations have taken a bad turn - Willow has let on that she knows more than Hal does about Julien's clients and Hal had decided that this is it. "John," Lestrade whispers. "We are going to need you."
"Ready."
Lestrade lets Willow talk a little bit more, let her rattle Hal a little bit more. She gives Lestrade her signal and Lestrade gives John his. The shot fires through Hal's shoulder. Hal still manages to squeeze off a shot but his aim is off and the bullet meant for Julien's head ends up in his leg instead. From the rooftops and over the com Sherlock is yelling to Hal that Julien had been planning to tell him all along. That he'd been keeping them safe for months .
"Those five unsolved murders this year," Sherlock announces. "Julien knew Hal's life was in danger and took his own steps. He's a criminal though, not Hal, so he knew how to hide his tracks and knew how to make it look. Nothing accidental or prop like, just actual fights or real standoffs that he engineered. It's been Julien you've wanted this whole year."
"What do you have to prove this?" Lestrade knows he'll be lucky if it's even admissible in court but Sherlock is very series and very confident. He tells Lestrade to get Julien to tell Hal what he'd done. He passes the message by text to Willow, who is accompanying the two to hospital along with one of his men.
"How'd you know?" he asks before he can stop himself. He shouldn't hear whatever Sherlock has to say. He has enough imagination to piece together what Sherlock has done to keep John and them all safe.
Sherlock doesn't keep his mouth shut but he keeps it short. "I've done it. And I did do it."
He waits to be told something about jurisdiction and what not but Lestrade just claims that interference had drowned out what he'd said. When he asks for him to repeat himself Sherlock tell him to never mind.
John is saying something in the background which infuriates Sherlock. "What?" Sherlock snaps. "Next time I'll just do nothing, is that what you want? I can't do that, John. I won't. "
"I don't want you dying for me."
"You'd have done the same."
"And hated me for it."
"You still would have done it. Any alternative results in permanent ruin for either of us."
"What makes you think we aren't ruined now?"
The sound really does cut off now and there comes the sound of someone being thrown into something. And again. And again. Lestrade rushes up the fire escape to see what's happened. What greets him is John with his hands around Sherlock's throat. He's not squeezing tight, just enough to give Sherlock reason to be concerned, and Sherlock is not resisting. He's speaking to John quietly and Lestrade does not dare step close enough to hear. This is it. This is the point of no return and maybe he just might have to clear up a body after all. Two bodies, he amends. If John throttles Sherlock, or throws him off the roof, he will follow him. It was one thing to waste away when he hadn't done the deed himself; he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he killed him.
It is a fact which John knows and understands all too well. He finally releases Sherlock and stares at him for a moment. "A year," John tells him. "I was dead for a year. You did that to me for a year."
"I am sorry," Sherlock states. It is probably the first time that Lestrade has ever heard him speak the words and mean it since that Christmas with Molly. "I did not intend for the deception to last so long but I would not jeopardize you safety. Could not." Only Sherlock can apologize and not apologize in one breath.
This is no secret to John but now, finally, he's in the right mind to understand the idea that Sherlock is just as much of an idiot when it comes to him as John is when it comes to Sherlock. To Lestrade's utter shock Sherlock realises this for the first time. "You actually thought I didn't...that I would..."
"Well you haven't given me much of hint otherwise," John sighs wearily. "Between being drugged and left behind and lied to and insulted and - "
Sherlock hugs him then. No warning, no sign of movement, no nothing. One moment he's leaning against the wall and the next he's wrapped around John. The only person that Lestrade has seen Sherlock hug is Mrs. Hudson, which is probably the same hug he'd give to his mother if his mother were the hugging type. This hug is vicious and protective. Lestrade respectively looks away and heads back down the stairs. Most of the force has moved out - there are only a few remains taking witness statements and chasing the reporters away.
His phone beeps.
Karen's transportation to Cardiff has been arranged. Her flight leaves at 1300 tomorrow. MH
And here Lestrade thought he was driving her....fuck, driving her yesterday. He'd slept at the office yesterday. He curses his stupidity and Hal Price as he texts his daughter to explain himself.
No need! I understand - really. It's all over the news. At least Cardiff is close enough to drive to.
Apparently you're flying
Seriously? That's just ridiculous.
He texts Karen Mycroft's number and wishes her luck with talking him out of it. It's stupid, yes, but if Mycroft wants to charter a flight to Cardiff instead of arranging for a train or car then that was Mycroft's business. His youngest daughter is moving to uni and he almost forgot all about it, he rubs his eyes with his right thumb and forefinger. "Where is your head at?" he asks himself.
"Far too preoccupied with other matters." It's Sherlock's voice but is sounds like the Sherlock from before the Fall. Just a little bit. That Sherlock is never coming back, not entirely, and for the first time Lestrade thinks that's okay.
"Well if he wasn't where would we be? John's voice now and it sounds as alive and whole as it had before Sherlock had jumped. "I've never thanked you for that properly have I?"
"There's never been a need for it." He turns to face the two friends - his two friends - and sees the united front from the days before everything fell to pieces. They're bent, they're broken, but they've come back and what they are and who they are is stronger for having survived it. He knows without asking that Sherlock will never do such an idiotically selfless thing again without entertaining options that do not include taking all the danger on himself and leaving everyone else with broken hearts. Not that John will ever fall for such a thing again or forgive him again. What is standing in front of him was a miracle before but now it is better than it was because the bond between them has been fought for and earned.
"Still," John tells him. "Thank you." He holds out his hand. "For before and for after - I have not been an easy friend or a good friend the past while.
"
Lestrade takes the hand and presses his hard as he shakes it. "You had other things on your mind. Before and after."
John smirks and chuckles a little. "That I did," he agrees. "That I did."
"If we're all quite done here," Sherlock cuts in. Too much sentiment for one day and Lestrade has to admit it's a bit much for him as well, especially considering he never plans to mention what he witnessed up there. "I believe I could eat."
"Oh so you're hungry and we have to do what you want now?" John teases affectionately.
"Obviously."
John rolls his eyes but he's practically beaming anyway. So is Sherlock but far less obviously. Lestrade takes a moment to be humbled that he's being allowed to see this, to be a part of this moment as the world gets rebuilt and the universe shifts back to where it should be. He takes stock of precisely where they are and jerks his head south. "There's a fine chip place down there." Sherlock immediately know which one he's talking of and starts briefing John about the owner's dirty secrets and how you can a chip shop is great the same way you can determine a great Chinese restaurant. Something about doors. Whatever. It's normal. It's frustrating and normal and Lestrade sighs the past year out of his system for good.
Tomorrow his world will change. His youngest will go off to uni and soon enough his oldest will move out on her own. He may be alone for the first time in his life within the next month or so and while that should make him uneasy he knows that he'll get through it. His friends are back and back at each other's sides. Tomorrow is a day for farewells but tonight he will celebrate a homecoming.