Goodbye, Sherlock

Chapter 22

Goodbye, Sherlock.

Chapter 22.

We always go back to Baker Street.

Lestrade's POV.

I woke up with an infuriating headache and sun coming through the windows.

One sunny day in Britain and I had to be hungover. I was hungover most of the time, though, so it was meant to happen.

I groaned and stood up, remembering that Mrs. Hudson would go visit me that day.

Without even looking at the mess my room was I headed to the kitchen. After a glass of water and some painkillers I took a croissant from the counter and put the coffee pot on the cooker.

Once my coffee was ready, I sat on the table with my laptop in front of me and opened Tumblr.

It was a website for teenagers mostly, but I had became addicted. You could find blogs about anything and everything. In the last three years I had probably spent more hours in Tumblr than my teenage daughter.

I saw I had lots of notifications and I sighed.

I couldn't remember posting anything, but I had. And it was so cringe worthy that I wanted to rip my eyes off.

More than one thousand words about how much I missed Sherlock.

With some domestic mentions of Mycroft.

It was stuff I thought, things that stayed in the back of my mind most of the time but that worried me to no end. Nothing I would ever say out loud.

Maybe to Mycroft. I thought.

Stop it. I answered in my mind.

I sighed.

I had gotten to a point where I talked to myself.

I ran my hands through my hair. I had learned the lesson: Never post anything on the Internet when you're drunk.

However, the post had gotten more notes than all of my other posts. People obviously liked all the emotional crap.

I sighed again.

What if someone at my work saw it?

What if my daughter saw it?

But, what if Sherlock sees it and comes back? I thought.

Yeah,as if.

Oh my god, what if Mycroft sees it? It's going to be so embarrassing...

He's not coming back anytime soon, anyways...

I heard the bell ring and all of that stuff disappeared from my mind.

"Just one second!"

I took all the dirty clothes and rubbish in the living room and took it to my bedroom as fast as possible. Then I ran to open the door.

In front of me, a smiling Mrs. Hudson.

"I lived with Sherlock, dear, I'm used to the mess."

I blushed. How did she always knew everything?

"It's fine. Come in."

"How are you, Greg?"

I pulled my best fake smile, even though we both knew that my answer would be a lie.

"Fine. As good as I can be. How are you?"

"Good, but I miss the city."

"You could always come back."