It's Not Real

Chapter Twenty Six

Sherlock Holmes and Greg Lestrade walked down the hospital corridor with much less excitement than they had when they arrived. Sherlock took one look at the body and seemed more disappointed that it turned out not to be murder. He needed the distraction.

Greg might not be as observant as his friend but he wasn't entirely thick, despite what said friend might believe. He knew Sherlock had something bothering him, he'd been checking his mobile constantly and had deliberately led them the long way around towards the exit, the route that meant they'd have to walk directly through Urgent Care.

When the woman noticed them from her place behind the desk filling out a form, she sighed heavily. "You've got to be joking," she glanced at a colleague who obviously heard her exasperation and had offered her a questioning look. Evelyn simply shook her head.

Sherlock stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, staring down at her. Greg noticed the softness of his eyes, but also the small furrow in his brow, wondering if he should try breaking the tension. Luckily, Evelyn beat him to it.

"What are you doing here, Sherlock?"

"Had to look at a body. Figured I'd swing by and...Check on you."

She was glaring quite forcefully at him, but Lestrade noticed there wasn't much true feeling behind it.

"You can't just pop in, I'm working, this is a hospital with actual patients." She gestured towards the double doors that led to the waiting room. When Greg caught a glance of someone with half their ear apparently missing, he shivered. "Go home, I'll be back after my shift."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "It's almost three in the morning."

"Exactly, go get some sleep."

"Not without you."

Evelyn steeled her face and Greg worried for the pen in her grip. "Sherlock, we discussed this, please don't make a scene."

Sherlock actually appeared a bit troubled then, teetering on his feet. "At least take a break with me? You're quiet at the moment and have the staff. Just to put my mind at ease." Greg suddenly felt like he shouldn't be stood watching this. "Please?"

"Augh..." She looked around the room, then gave a nod of her head. "Fine. Go to the canteen," she dropped her ID on the desk in front of him rather than in his open palm, a purposeful choice from her. It might not have seemed like anything too major but when the hurt flashed across Sherlock's face Greg wanted the ground to swallow him whole. "I'll be there in five minutes. I just have to catch Yasmin up on this patient."

Sherlock pursed his lips, picking up the card. "Good, thank you." Then he spun on his heel and headed towards the exit. "Come along, Lestrade, we can discuss the other case you've been desperate to keep me off."

Greg looked between his retreating back and her frustrated expression for a moment. She waved him off. "It's fine, go. Five minutes."

He offered an apologetic smile and jogged off to catch up with the taller man. He was certainly striding ahead with purpose now. "Oi," he whispered harshly. "What was that about?"

"Nothing."

"Don't treat me like an idiot," when Sherlock's mouth opened Greg had already anticipated what retort he'd likely get. "I am not an idiot."

Sherlock sighed heavily. "She's been... unwell. I specifically didn't want her working any more night shifts, and then she insisted she had to fulfil this one because she'd already agreed to it weeks ago. I told her they could have got in agency or called in a colleague to cover, but of course I'm the one in the wrong because I'm being 'insensitive to other peoples time'." He scoffed. "I don't care about those other people, obviously, but my point was valid."