Soldier without his Detective

Chapter 3

I'm sending you a care package.

Need anything in particular?

A care package?

I don't know really, can you fit?

Mycroft will never allow that. I would certainly try to fit though.

I might need socks. snacks.

Ooooooh ill tell you what. A couple tea bags? Haven't had a decent cuppa since you made it.

If thats not too much

Why on Earth would that be too much? I was prepared to send myself. And anyway, my brother is paying.

Oh well in that case, I'll take a pack of biscuits too ;p

Wait, you didn't steal his card again did you?

John, how could you think so low of me? I just mentioned to Lestrade how I was saving what little money I had to send you something. He did the rest.

You manipulative bastard. I fucking love you.

I love you too <3

"Hiya, Sherlock." Lestrade had been visiting Sherlock every so often. He usually brought a case with him as an excuse. Although, they both knew the reason he was actually there. There were no active cases he could hand out so he was bringing some of his cold cases to keep the mad genius occupied. Frankly, he was growing a little concerned. Sherlock had begun to be more reserved. John had been away for just over a month. He knew it was driving Sherlock crazy. He's never seen the man like this.

Sherlock was sitting in his chair, reading. He looked up as Greg stepped into the room, the book still held aloft. Greg dumped the envelope onto the coffee table and moved to the kettle. Sherlock's eyes drifting back to his book. Greg begins opening cupboards, looking for the tea bags. "Ran out." The words came out in a long drawl. Ran out? Seriously?

He closes the doors and steps into the front room. "Have you not been shopping? Mycroft gave you this week's money." Sherlock gave a long exaggerated sigh. The type he tends to reserve for when Greg is being particularly dull, according to him. Greg shifts on his feet, hands raising to rest on his hips. Sherlock begins to place the book down, moving slow. "I'm saving up."

The longer Greg has been there, the less he understands. He moves to sit in front of Sherlock. As he walks to the front of the red armchair, he sees Sherlock's head snap up. His leg dropping from his knee as he moves to stop Greg. Looking at the wide eyes of the young man, Greg looks back towards the chair, a wave of understanding flooding him. He pulls over a wooden chair to sit near the man. He gives a slight nod towards Sherlock as he sits, watching as he begins to relax again. He can see the mental scolding Sherlock is giving himself at his reaction.

"What are you saving up for?" Greg is directing his gaze at Sherlock, trying to catch his eye. "Sherlock?" In all the time they have known each other, Greg has never seen him like this. In his short look around the kitchen, he saw just how bare they had become. Mycroft had been in control of Sherlock's money for a while now. He would send over enough for essentials, rent, and some extra. It was so that the money wouldn't be for anything... recreational. It had been the way since Greg had found him. John had begun to send over some of his money too. All of this was, of course, under Mycroft's control. When a danger night arose, Sherlock's money would lower. If it got really bad, Mycroft wouldn't send any. He would pay all Sherlock's bills without the money crossing him. Greg had been trying to lift this. Even he thought Mycroft could be a little too controlling.

"I want to send John care packages," His gaze was still wandering. "Just little things to make him feel at home. I was looking it up, postage will be about ten pounds. I thought I could send a couple. You know? The stuff we don't think of. Maybe a gift or two. I don't know." He gave a shrug as he began to trail off. Greg had never seen him so small and insecure. His heart lurched with each word that passed his lips. Sherlock shifted, Greg let out a sigh and stood. He moved towards the door and picked up his discarded coat. He then grabbed Sherlock's and threw it over the man.

Sherlock looked up after uncovering himself, his expression lost. "Move it, come on." Greg said as he turned to leave the flat. Sherlock slowly stood, curiosity spiked, he followed. He moved hesitantly behind Greg as he made his way to his car. They climbed in.

"What are we doing here?" They had pulled up at the nearby Asda. Greg parked and strolled towards the food entrance, leaving Sherlock to trail behind. Greg motions towards the small trolleys, Sherlock collects one before following in tandem in the store. "Well? What do you want to send to John? Ask him if he needs anything first then you can work from there." With that, he takes the trolley and throws some bread at the bottom. Sherlock looks Greg over and sends a text to John.

They make their way through the isles, Greg picking things up and tossing them in the trolley, comparing the products and prices. "Um, he said, socks and snacks. I guess we head to George before paying?" Greg gave a smile and a stiff nod as he picked up two blocks of near identical cheese. He looks up to the sound of Sherlock's phone making a sound and a laugh escaping his lips. "And, uh, tea if it's not too much." He is looking at his phone with a reserved smile and a spark in his eye, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing the side.

Greg breaks through to Sherlock by placing the cheese in the trolley and clearing his throat. "Too much? Proper British bloke, your fella. It's alright Mycroft can pay, you'll be fine." He lets out a chuckle and begins to make his way to the tea. Sherlock's fingers tapping as he follows close behind.

Greg takes his time. Walking throughout the shop, collecting things to send as well as a full shop for the stubborn man. After paying, he takes Sherlock home and joins him for a well earned cuppa.