"Alex has died." Sherlock was pale, her face blank.
ft. @gunmetclgrey
He could deal with this in a number of ways, really. None of them good. He wouldn’t shoot Sherlock for this. Not yet at least. Either way, it was probably good that she was the messenger. Or bad. He wouldn’t have reacted well no matter the way the news was delivered.
Silence.
“What did you do?” Find someone to blame, that was always the first step. Find some way to cover what could easily become a nagging guilt that if he’d been there she might have survived, if something had gone different, she might not have died. Sebastian didn’t have regrets. He’d tell anyone that. However, he didn’t lack the capacity to have them entirely. “What did you fuck up?” Ignoring the fact that Alex was entirely capable of getting herself killed on her own.
God. Fuck. She was the only blood family he’d cared about for the past while. And he’d been…himself to her, but that didn’t cover the fact that she’d mattered.
“If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to shoot you.”
He needed to have her gone. Alone, it would be alright to grieve, hidden away from anyone who might ask him how he was doing, what he was feeling. It was supposed to be a private thing, so he could still do his work. He just needed time to withdraw and give up the illusion that everything was fine for just a moment. But only he could know that.
