Remembrance

[smallhobbit]

Fandom: Sherlock bbc
Rating: G
Characters:  Watson, Lestrade
Word Count: 1,030
Summary: This is John's first Remembrance Sunday since returning from Afghanistan. 
                   "We shall remember them"

“Are you going to watch the remembrance parade at the Cenotaph?” DI Lestrade asked John Watson as they were sitting in the pub one evening in late October.

“No, I don’t think so.  It’s so,” John hesitated not sure how to explain that he didn’t want his memories being swamped by those of all the other watchers and participants.  “Big,” he finished lamely.

Lestrade nodded.  The two of them had been meeting up quite frequently in the last few weeks; more often than just mates, but with nothing specific being said on either side as to what their relationship was.  During their conversations John had briefly mentioned events from his time in Afghanistan and it was clear to Lestrade that they continued to play on John’s mind. 

The inspector considered for a few minutes, and then said, “I’m going down to stay with my sister that weekend.  They have a remembrance service in the village she lives in.  You’d be very welcome to come with me.”

John smiled.  “That would be good.  If you’re sure your sister won’t mind.”

“No, she’ll be quite happy.”  Lestrade answered confidently.  He’d explain the situation to her and take the family out for Sunday lunch.  She wouldn’t be best pleased, and would probably have a bit of a moan at him, but he knew his sister would never let John know there was any problem.

#####

As Lestrade had anticipated, his sister greeted John warmly when they arrived at her house.

“I’ve put you in the guest bedroom,” she said.  “If you’re okay about sharing then Greg can have the put-you-up in there with you.  If not he can sleep on the settee.”

John smiled.  “I spent years in the army; I think I can manage to share a room for one night.  And I don’t mind sleeping on the put-you-up.”

“You have the bed.  Greg’ll be quite happy to have the put-you-up.”  Her expression was one that she had clearly inherited from their mother, and which Lestrade knew better than to argue with.

Once they had put their bags in the bedroom they joined Jane and her husband in the kitchen for a cup of tea.  Jane passed a small cross with a poppy in the centre over the table to John.

“After the village organisations have laid their wreaths at the war memorial there’s an opportunity for individuals to do so.  If you wanted to lay the cross then you’d be very welcome to.  But please don’t think you have to.”

John picked the cross up and ran his fingers over it thoughtfully.  “That’s very kind of you.  I would appreciate the opportunity very much.”  He put the cross down on the table and then picked it up again.  “Actually, if you don’t mind I’ll put it upstairs ready for tomorrow.” 

Lestrade looked at him, glimpsing what was going through John’s mind.  “Good idea, mate.”

#####

Lestrade woke in the early hours of the morning and realised that John was tossing and turning, clearly in some distress.  He watched him for a few minutes and then got out of bed and padded silently across the room.  He placed his hand on John’s uninjured shoulder and gently pushed him down.  “It’s okay, you’re safe now,” he said softly.  Once he had repeated this a couple of times John quietened and lay still.  Lestrade took his hand off the younger man who turned on his side and curled into a ball.  He watched him carefully and when he was satisfied that he was sleeping more peacefully he returned to his own bed.

In the morning when John opened his eyes he saw Lestrade looking at him.

“You okay?” Lestrade asked.

“Yes, I think so.  Oh, sh*t, did I wake you in the night?”

“It’s alright.  I didn’t mind.  What was it?”

“Faces, people, those I helped, those I couldn’t help.  A jumble.”

“Yeah, I get that sometimes when we have a particularly nasty case.”

“It was okay last year.  We all paraded together and shared things, but this year I’m on my own and it’s very different.  I can’t really explain.”

“I understand.  All you’ve got to do is get through today and I promise you it’ll get better.”

“Thank you.”

#####

They arrived at the village war memorial in plenty of time.  Jane’s daughter Charlotte, was going to be an escort for the Brownie flag and had practically herded them out of the house; she was so worried they might be late.

The ceremony went smoothly, apart from the odd foot-shuffling Brownie during the two minutes’ silence.  The various village organisations laid their wreaths and then the vicar smiled and nodded at John who stepped forward and laid his cross next to the wreaths.  He returned to his place next to Lestrade and hoped that no-one noticed the tear that ran down his cheek.

They moved into the church for the rest of the service, led in by the Guides and Brownies bearing their standards.  John let his mind wander and hardly registered anything the vicar said in his sermon.  When the congregation stood at the end ready to sing the National Anthem he only stood up when Lestrade gently nudged him.  He watched as the girls dipped their flags and allowed himself a small smile as the girl at the back nearly lowered her flag onto the head of the one in front.

Then the church door was opened and the autumn light flooded in.  It seemed to John that his ghosts started to parade out into the sunshine.  The standard bearers turned to lead the way out of the church and there was a loud clang as one of the standards hit the chandelier.  John caught Charlotte’s eye as she struggled to maintain her serious expression and winked at her, causing her to giggle.

As John walked out of the church side by side with Lestrade, he felt as if a weight was starting to lift off his shoulders.  A simple service of remembrance had given him the chance to let go of some of his worst memories, and whilst others remained he had found someone who would help him come to terms with them.