Believe in Sherlock

Chapter 27-Sherlock's POV

I just stormed out of my flat, leaving Maggie and John speechless. Why did I do that? Moriarty had been standing in my kitchen with a gun pointed a Maggie's heart.

I had frozen.

Maggie's concerned look filled my mind in blinding, flashing images. Moriarty had put his forefinger to his lips and I had stayed frozen.

I knew he wasn't there. I know he's just an image from my memories but he looks so real. No mind can make hallucinations that real. No mind that I know of, anyway.

Once Jim had disappeared, I had bolted out of the door, in need of fresh air. I can't focus on the case if Jim keeps showing up every time I let my guard down even slightly.

I switched my thoughts back onto the hearse case. The trunk of the hearse was spotless. No evidence. Hardly even a scuff mark. How was that possible? If they slid coffins into the bed of the car, surely there would be a scuff mark or even a fingerprint inside. But no. Nothing.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and continued to meander down the streets of London. Perhaps I could go to Scotland Yard and talk to Lestrade about the case. Or find the driver of the hearse and interrogate him personally. It's much more effective when I can get them alone.

I hurried down the street a little ways before the cold drove me to hail a lazy cab. I finally caught one and told the driver to take me to Scotland Yard.

He started off slowly and it took everything I possessed not to yell at him to drive faster. I wanted out of that flat as long as possible. Moriarty seemed to show up there more often than any other place.

Finally the slow cabbie reached Scotland Yard. I gave him his undeserved money and hopped out of the cab before it even came to a full stop.

I was anxious. But I can't let that show. I'm so used to burying my feelings that it seems to come as easily as the feelings themselves. I did this as instinct now. Not showing my true emotions.

Mycroft always said that caring is not an advantage. I have found myself thinking this more and more true ever since the rooftop with Moriarty.

I had thankfully planned ahead and knew that Moriarty would try to pull something like that one day or another.

I often wonder what would have happened if I hadn't planned ahead. If I had to truly choose between the few people that care about me and myself.

What would have happened if I hadn't lived? If I had died jumping off of that building. What would have happened?

I came out of my thoughts and realized I was already inside the building and walking to Lestrade's office as if on auto-pilot.

I opened the door without knocking and saw Lestrade leaning back in his chair with a newspaper on his chest. His eyes closed and the bit of drool on his chin told me he was fast asleep.

How dull. I would hate to have a job sitting behind a desk all day. I think I'd die of boredom.

I slammed the door behind me, hoping that would wake him up. It didn't.

"For Gods sakes." I muttered and made my way over to Lestrade's desk.

Right when I was about to shake his lazy ass awake, I paused and looked at the newspaper on his chest.

The front cover showed St.Bartholomew's hospital. The headline read.

SUICIDAL DETECTIVE LIVES AFTER FALL.

I scoffed and almost woke Lestrade up before curiosity took over and I grabbed the newspaper instead.

I read the following article:

Three years prior to today, Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes, jumped off of the roof of Saint Bartholomew's Hospital. Nobody knows specific details about the event but one thing was for certain. Sherlock Holmes was dead on scene. Or so we thought.

Sherlock Holmes's partner, Doctor John Watson, was questioned about Mr. Holmes's actions but he gave no comment, turning away from the media once Mr. Holmes's name was mentioned.

Now, three years later, Holmes has been spotted on multiple occasions alive and well. Sherlock has been seen with his two partners, John Watson and Margaret Jones, throughout the city of London.

Nobody knows how Holmes survived the fall witnessed by a small group of civilians but one thing is for certain.

Sherlock Holmes is alive and everybody knows it.

I took my eyes off the article. Everybody knew I was alive now. It's not easy keeping a secret from the nosey population of London.

I rolled the paper up and held it in my right hand. I swung the paper down, hitting Lestrade right in the face.

His eyes shot open and he nearly fell off his chair.

"Bloody hell!" He shouted. He then turned his head and saw me sitting in the chair in front of his desk, my feet up and the newspaper, now unrolled, in my hand.

"Jesus." Lestrade muttered.

"Nope, just me." I said and pushed the newspaper onto Lestrade's desk so it faced him. "Did you know about this?"

"Yeah, I knew about it. John called me earlier and notified me." I said.

"When did he call?" I asked.

Lestrade shrugged. "Maybe around 11:30 AM. Why?"

"Oh nothing...just nothing." I said unconvincingly. Why didn't John tell me about this? He always tell me when I'm in the paper. Surely he didn't forget if he called Lestrade about it.

Maybe he didn't want me to know? Why wouldn't he?

I came out of my thoughts to hear Lestrade babbling about something.

I rolled my eyes. "Really, Lestrade, if your going to talk until your blue in the face I might as well leave so you can do that without annoying somebody." I went to stand up but Lestrade held out a hand.

"No wait, sorry. Please, tell me why you're here." Lestrade said.

How desperate.

"Desperate now, aren't we?" I muttered just loud enough that I knew he could hear me. "Well it is incredibly boring here so I might as well relieve you of it." I sat back down in the chair and resumed my position from earlier.

"Sherlock, just tell me why you're here. It's actually a simple question." Lestrade said and leaned back in his chair.

My eyes glanced at Lestrade's neck to see his collar was turned up.

"What's wrong with your neck, Lestrade?" I asked.

Lestrade shifted nervously. "Nothing. Now tell me why you're here."

"To find out why your collar is turned up at the moment." I retorted, not taking my eyes off his collar.

"It's nothing." Lestrade mumbled.

"Oh it is most certainly something for you wouldn't be trying to hide it from the public eye if it was." I pointed out.

Lestrade let out a frustrated breath and regained his composure. "Why are you here, Sherlock?" He repeated.

I ignored him and looked at his neck. I could see a bit of lipstick right at the base of his neck. I recognized the color and lip shape.

"So how's Molly been doing?" I asked casually with a satisfied smirk on my lips.

Lestrade seemed to pale a bit.

"Lestrade, are you alright? You seem a bit upset." I said knowingly, the smirk still placed on my lips.

"I'm fine. And Molly is fine as far as I know." Lestrade said.

"Just fine? Looking at the bruise on your neck and the faint smell of Molly's perfume on your clothes, I'd expect a bit more." I mused.

"Sherlock please. Do you have to get involved with everyone's life?" Lestrade asked exasperatedly.

"Well it's no fun with just my own to be 'involved' in." I replied.

"Well back to my original question-" Lestrade started.

"Aw, but I was having a bit of fun. I could go into detail if you'd like." I offered.

"Why are you here, Sherlock?" Lestrade said more confidently.

I looked at him, surprised he hadn't figured that out yet.

"I'm here about an empty hearse."





(A/N) Sorry it's short but I wanted to put Lestrade in here. I love his character and overall attitude towards Sherlock. Also, does anybody else think Lestrade and Molly would make a cute couple? No? Just me? Well, I'm putting it in here because I can.

Who's POV should be next? I haven't done John's perspective in a while...hmmmm....