So I think a lot of people aren’t really in the right frame of mind right now to think about the fallout of this episode outside of John and Sherlock and how long this wait is going to be, but there are some interesting implications of all of this.
Mostly implications for Lestrade, one of Sherlock’s only friends and a man who, there is no doubt in my mind, still trusts him despite everything that has happened.
What Moriarty did, to discredit Sherlock, did not just ruin Sherlock’s reputation. It ruined Lestrade’s, too. Every case that Sherlock ever helped with is going to be discredited. They will probably have to re-try every single one. This will cost not only a lot of time and money, it will also, very likely, let a lot of very guilty people go free. How can they hold a case up without all the evidence Sherlock personally handled? Personally brought to light? And Lestrade let him in, asked for his help. He is personally responsible for the legal quagmire that comes with finding out that your ace in the hole is, apparently and self-admittedly, the man behind most of the crimes that he “solved”. I have no doubt his superiors will let him shoulder the blame, alone.
Greg Lestrade will not have a job by the time this is done. His reputation will be ruined, his record so tarnished that his word will mean nothing. Everything he’s ever done will discredited and dismissed. He will be made a mockery.
So then, where does that leave us? What does a man who is so, at his very core, a copper do when he cannot do the job he was born for? How does he keep his life together then his actions come under public scrutiny, when his cases and his marriage and his life become the stuff of gossip?
There are possibilities. Maybe he will become a detective. Maybe he will go work with Mycroft. Whatever he does, I just really hope that the show addresses that there are serious implications that come with dragging Sherlock’s name through the mud that effect more than just Sherlock and John.
Ooooh Jesus here come the Lestrade feels D:
sherlockspeare:ktbakerstreet:tangofox:valeria2067:ununpentium:
It’s a glimpse, nothing more. A flash of dark hair and high cheekbones and pale eyes. And John knows it’s insane, knows it’s impossible, but it looked exactly like him.
Their eyes meet for a second, and the pair on the other side of the tinted taxi window show no signs of recognition. But not for a moment does John let himself believe it could be anyone else. He simple didn’t see him in the crowd, or did not have time to react between recognising him and the car drifting smoothly around the corner.
He must believe these things, because he must believe in who it was in that cab.
There was no-one else like him. No-one else it could have been.
It was Sherlock.
It is all John can do not to drop his bags as he races around the corner, breathing that name repeatedly under his breath. For the first time since Switzerland, he runs with no limp, he runs like he only ever did with Sherlock.
But even free from psychosomatic pain, he is not as fast as a car. He knows he will never catch it. “Sherlock… Sherlock…” he pants, even as he grinds to a halt in the middle of the road. He feels the name bubbling up inside him, becoming a shout as the car disappears.
“SHERLOCK!”
For several seconds, John just stands there, watching the point where the taxi disappeared. He is aware of people around looking at him, a car slowly pulling towards him, expecting him to move. He doesn’t care. It has just hit him, really, truly, that Sherlock Holmes is dead. He will never ride a London cab again, never look over the city with those cool, colourless eyes. No matter how hard John wishes, he will never come back.
The car behind him beeps its horn, and John limps away.
~
Sherlock turns and watches the figure, once he is sure it can no longer see his face. It runs after him, mouth forming his name over and over. As he watches, a burning desire grows, and he wants nothing more than to stop the taxi, jump out and gather the man in his arms. He never meant to hurt anyone. He never meant for this.
“You know that guy?” the cabbie asks, noticing what Sherlock is staring at. “You want me to stop for him?”
Sherlock turns around, catching the driver’s eye in the mirror. “No, it’s fine. Keep driving.”
He has whipped out his phone before he even knows what he’s doing.
Take care of him.
- SH
He has already sent the message before he taps out an afterthought.
Please.
- SH
Seconds later, his phone chimes.
Already picked him up. Have been following him since he left Baker Street.
- MH
And before he can even draw the breath to think of a reply, it seems that his brother also has more to say.
He’s crying. I don’t know what to do.
- MH
There is anger that message. And desperation. And remorse. And most of all—there is guilt. The words blur in his vision, and with trembling fingers, he wipes the tears that have dropped on the screen of his phone.
Neither do I.
- SH
He never sends that last message.
WHY WOULD YOU WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THIS, I’M SO SAD NOW
(Source: katsurakotaro)
(Source: tonysstark)
Lestrade is in the background filming it all on his phone
Yup. Justine look!
haha oh no his distressed face. he’s a baby.
