Gregory Lestrade

i've missed several shifts due to chronic pain again, which means I'm several hundred down this month, and I'm currently having to choose between travelling to work and paying bills. Anything at all helps, even just rb's! 💖

“It’s you. It’s all about you.“

“We have no need of comfy chairs.”

“You really are an alien, aren’t you?”

“’Course you’re scared. You’re dying.“

“But, you don’t always tell me the truth.“

“Wrong. Wrong. Bit right, mostly wrong.“

“It’s a long story and I don’t know most of it.“

“I’ll be back for you soon as I can, I promise.“

“Just move. Don’t ask questions, don’t speak.“

“There is no way in. It’s not physically possible.“ 

“We’re too exposed here. We have to move on.“

“Do you all know what’s down there? Any of you?“

“You hold on tight and don’t you let go for anything.“

“He doesn’t know yet, does he? Who and what you are.“

“You said they were fast. They should have had us by now.“

“If I always told you the truth, I wouldn’t need you to trust me.“

“This book is wrong. What’s wrong with this book? It’s wrong.“

“You need to start trusting me. It’s never been more important.

“It’s not supposed to make that noise. You leave the brakes on.“

“You’re good. I’m not saying you’re right, but you are very good.“

“You made me trust you, and when it mattered, you let me down.“

“You’ve bought us time, though. That’s good. I am good with time.“

“You’re not moving. You have to do this. Now. You have to do this!“

“No pressure, but this is usually when you have a really good idea.“

“Think it through. There’s no way out of this. You have to leave me.“

“I am truly sorry. I’ve made a mistake and we are all in terrible danger.”

“Something happened. I don’t know what, and you don’t even remember.“

“Scared keeps you fast. Anyone in this room who isn’t scared is a moron.“

“You lot, you’re everywhere. You’re like rabbits. I’ll never get done saving you.“

“I nearly died. I was alone in the dark, and I nearly died. And it made me think.“

“You think you know her, but you don’t. You don’t understand who or what she is.“

“Wasn’t as painless as I expected, but it was pretty quick, so that was something.”

“Now, if he’s dead back there, I’ll never forgive myself. If he’s alive, I’ll never forgive him.“

“I’m not going to be there to catch you every time you feel like jumping out of a space ship.“

“The eyes are not the windows of the soul… they are the doors. Beware what may enter there.”

      𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆   𝒊𝒏   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌   of   his   mind   a   thought   floats   out   that   Greg   would   make   a   great   father.   The   paternal   worry   seemed   to   come   only   too   natural   to   him,   along   with   the   pathological   need   to   comfort   and   assure.   It’s   one   of   the   reasons   why   Sherlock’s   story   was   a   lie   —   the   sincerity   of   Lestrade’s   response   to   something   that   might   actually   be   weighing   him   down   would   be   hard   to   handle.   Sherlock   simply   doesn’t   do   well   with   emotions,   especially   his   own.   

      Another   half   minute   is   spent   on   wondering   whether   he   should   keep   up   the   lie   and   wait   to   see   if   Lestrade   could   figure   him   out   on   his   own,   or   if   he   should   end   the   charade.   It   was   already   starting   to   become   tedious,   and   Sherlock   was   starting   to   run   out   of   patience.   

      “And   what   would   you   say,   pray   tell?”   His   question   lacks   a   dash   of   intrigue,   the   slight   slurring   of   his   tone   giving   away   his   boredom.   Reasons   with   himself   that   he   does   need   to   be   sloppy   with   his   act   for   Lestrade   to   catch   on;   still   hoping   that   he’s   smart   enough   to   do   so   without   Sherlock   having   to   become   overtly   obvious.   “What   do   you   think   would   make   them   regret   doing   this?”   

His protectiveness comes from those strong emotions and every time someone had told him the world wasn't kind or fair, it had given him another reason to be those things. That stubborn desire to shield those he cares about from the wrongs of the world is probably whats stopping him from realising, for the moment, that this is just a ruse.

A snort of a half-laugh leaves him. He rolls his eyes a little at himself, and then proceeds to offer Sherlock a softly tired smile. As angry as the thought of someone threatening Sherlock makes him, he knows realistically that hes just one man, and whoever this is isn't likely to feel any sort of regret, no matter what Greg says.

Greg has had his fair share of weirdos, including those claiming to have supernatural powers, but he's never met a qualified detective with those beliefs before. Of course some people on the Force believe in this or that, whether it be ghosts or magic, but in his experience detectives tended to be too jaded and weary from all the death and gore they'd seen to believe in such things.

"No, suspicious is you showing up at my crime scene and insisting on investigating it yourself," Watching the man circle him, Greg smothers the urge to tell him to piss off, "My people are stationed outside, I'm not here alone."

      𝑻𝒉𝒆   𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏   𝒐𝒇   𝑮𝒓𝒆𝒈’𝒔   rebuttal   leaves   Sherlock   with   all   the   more   curiosity.   His   gaze   seems   to   sharpen,   glued   to   the   other   man,   taking   in   every   single   twitch   of   muscle   in   his   body,   trying   to   read   answers   to   the   questions   he   hasn’t   spoken   aloud.   A   twitch   to   his   lips,   Sherlock   sits   into   his   own   chair,   steepling   his   hands   under   his   chin.   

      “So   how   did   you   survive   all   this   time?”   He   supposes   living   off   animals   was   an   option;   fragments   of   memories   in   his   mind,   buried   far   and   deep,   provide   him   with   some   sort   of   justifiable   explanations.   There   is   lore   and   there   is   fiction,   and   both   were   blurred   into   one   —   no   one   really   considers   vampires   to   actually   be   real,   so   no   one   even   attempted   to   separate   the   two.   No   one   would   even   know   where   to   begin,   or   care   to   figure   it   out.   

      Head   cocks   to   the   side,   his   eyes   narrow   —   of   all   the   things   he   has   planned   to   polish   his   knowledge   on,   vampires   were   not   even   on   the   list,   until   today.   “How   can   you   survive,   and   remain   relatively   unknown   for   centuries   without   having   to   kill   anyone?”   

"Just two centuries, actually. Give or take a couple decades. Feeding isn't a death sentence; I only drink about a pint at a time, and can survive on a pint or two a week. It doesn't even have to be fresh from the source. Human is best, both taste wise and in terms of it's affects. Animal will do in a pinch, but I need more of it to be satisfied."

He downs the rest of his drink before continuing.

"I have killed before. Not in a long time, but I have. When I was young - fresh, I guess - I didn't have any control; for months I was more beast than anything else. I hunted and killed and ate whatever- whoever I could. Anything to satisfy the hunger."

He looks vaguely uncomfortable as he admits this. Time has passed and he has tried to forgive himself for what he's done, but still, the guilt is there, as is the awareness of what he’s capable of. He hasn’t felt that specific hunger again since, but he knows that even a couple of missed feedings and he would be much further from the human he pretends to be.

”It was easier to move around back then. No cameras or communications faster than a horse could gallop,” And if he could outpace a horse if he really tried, “Rumours start, and you just move on; disappear like the other poor sods who'd fallen prey to someone or something. No need to fake your death when you can leave with barely a trace.

Send 🍽️ for my muse to make your muse a meal!

New Tricks Sentences, Vol. 7

(Sentences from New Tricks (2003-2015). Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Come with me quietly and you'll avoid considerable pain and embarrassment."

"I am not what you think I am."

"What does it taste like? Making your living from other people's misery?"

"Do you know how many lives I've saved?"

"Nobody ever thanks you in this job."

"Loyalty is very important to me."

"I was never cut out for this level of manipulation."

"I wanted to see you, but I thought that might be selfish."

"Pardon me for saying, but this one bloody great mess you've made!"

"Depressing, isn't it? Getting old."

"How do you know all this stuff?"

"The pain is a vital part of the experience."

"Did you go to bed at all?"

"What's Latin for 'losing the will to live'?"

"I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I'm really sorry."

"Did you know it was the English actually who invented champagne?"

"If there's one thing you learn to develop in this business, it's a thick skin."

"Are they the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?"

"You look knackered! Who's the lucky lady?"

"Why would you want a general answer when I can give you a specific one?"

"You're not a super sleuth! You're superficial!"

"You don't use your analytical brain. This is very bad for a policeman."

"Take this as an order to back off."

"Why do you hate me so much?"

"I've tolerated your intrusions, but now you must leave me alone."

"Career suicide is always amusing to behold."

"I'm not sure I should get involved with this."

"You made me look a complete fool. Don't you ever embarrass me like that again."

"This isn't going to work. I thought we could have a quick drink and put the past behind us, but clearly you don't want to do that."

"I never had you down as a closet astronomer!"

"Do you always sit in complete silence?"