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Chapter 2

"Close your mouth inspector, it's very unbecoming."

Greg felt himself start to sway and his vision went in and out of focus. As he started to fall he felt a chair pushed under him. He sank down gratefully, and put his head in his hands trying to stop the room from spinning.

Greg opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. He was in shock. This couldn't be Sherlock before him, but there was no one else it could be. He only knew two people with that eye colour: Sherlock and Mycroft. Everything else about the detective had changed; his hair and his clothes had changed. It was hard to recognize him unless you looked him right in the face. That was the only thing that hadn't changed.

"Y-You" Greg stammered. "You were dead!" Greg's shock was quickly turning into rage. "DO TOU KNOW WHAT WE WENT THROUGH?" Greg yelled. Sherlock looked alarmed and was quickly backing away towards the opposite wall; he had never seen Lestrade that furious.

"Now inspector calm yourself-" This was definantly not the response Sherlock had expected from the man.

"JOHN WAS DEVASTATED! I WAS SAD! YOUR OWN BROTHER WAS EVEN THOUGHLY DEPRESSED!" Greg let his anger get the best of him. He was desperate, he wanted to make Sherlock see what he had done to them all.

"MRS. HUDSON WOULDN'T STOP CRYING FOR WEEKS! AND JOHN! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO HIM!" Greg stopped yelling for a second, waiting for an answer.

Sherlock was definantly alarmed by now. He was drinking in every word Lestrade was yelling at him. He'd had no idea that it would make this big on an impact on him.

"Inspector I-" Sherlock tried to say, but was immediately cut off by Lestrade continuing to shout abuse at him.

"YOU PRACTICALLY KILLED HIM! HE WAS DEPRESSED AND MOPING AROUND ALL THE TIME! HE WOULDN'T LET ANY OF US VISIT HIM. EVERY TIME WE WOULD GO OVER TO COMFORT HIM HE WOULD SLAM THE DOOR IN OUR FACES! THE ONLY ONE WHO WASN'T AS AFFECTED WAS MOLLY! MOLLY HOOPER! "

At that point Greg had been walking slowly forward towards Sherlock. Suddenly shouting just wasn't enough. Sherlock was backed into a corner unable to get out. He advanced on Sherlock and punched him square in the face. Sherlock spun with the force of the punch and landed flat on his arse.

As Greg stood over him he saw Sherlock eyes go in and out of focus as he sat up against the wall attempting to regain his bearings.

If Sherlock had been surprised by the inspectors first reaction he definantly was not prepared for a punch in the face. As he sat on the ground he knew he deserved it. He hadn't realized that his death would have such an impact on people like Lestrade or Mrs. Hudson, most of all he didn't think that it would have affected John so drastically. John, the army doctor whom had invaded Afghanistan. John, his faithful friend who had helped him to capture so many criminals.

His vision had finally focused and he stood up. He put his hand up to where Lestrade had punched him. He looked down at his hand. It had blood all over it. His nose was bleeding. He cursed under his breath while pinching his nose, trying to stop the bleeding. That was going to hurt in the morning. He could see that Lestrade was still furious. Sherlock let out a sigh.

"Listen-" he paused but Lestrade looked as mad as ever, "Greg-" he saw the anger in the older mans eyes fade a little bit at the mention of his first name. "For once, you were right. I didn't think how it would affect other people. I think that I should explain a few things-"Sherlock faltered trying to see what Greg would do next.

"Fine, you can explain, but first"

Greg punched him again, not as hard but still quite painful, and still hard enough to land him on his arse again. He recovered much more quickly this time and stood up. His eyes flaring with anger.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT FOR!" Sherlock yelled.

"That… Was for John." Lestrade said simply before turning on his heel and walking out of the lab, headed for the door.

That answer silenced Sherlock for the entire walk to the front door up until Greg hailed a cab and they both climbed in. It was then that Sherlock bothered to assess his injuries. Broken nose. Split lip.

"Where are we going?" Sherlock finally asked, to break the silence.

"Baker Street," Greg replied, "Sorry about you nose by the way."

"It's fine. I know I deserved it. Why Baker Street, Exactly? Isn't he still living there?"

"No, he moved out a few days after you fell. Being in the place just seemed to make him even more sad. By the way, did you get a new mobile? I didn't recognize the number."

"Yes I did, my old one is still on top of Barts. I couldn't very well go up and fetch it now could I? How is he? I mean had he moved on?"

"Yes, of course he has. He's forgotten all about you." Lestrade replied sarcastically. Sherlock, however, did not catch the sarcasm. Lestrade saw the pain flash through the detectives' eyes and quickly said:

"Kidding! He's pretty much the same as he was after you fell. Now he works though and he'll talk to us now but… he still isn't the same" Lestrade finished somewhat melodramatically.

They spent the rest of the ride in silence. When they pulled up outside of Baker Street, Sherlock immediately noticed that the light was on in their flat, this fact went unnoticed by the inspector. Sherlock unlocked the door to their flat and followed Lestrade up the stairs. The flat door was open and Sherlock saw someone bustling around the flat cleaning. Mrs. Hudson. At least he wouldn't have to stand another reaction like Greg's. Lestrade knocked on the open door, startling Mrs. Hudson, who turned and told him to enter. She hadn't seen Sherlock. She turned back to her cleaning before Sherlock entered the familiar flat.

"Hello, Mrs. Hudson," Lestrade said cheerfully "I think there's someone here that you'll want to see."

i still have finals but still am not studying for them! review and try to tell me what my username means. see if your smart enough! plzzz review!