Work Text:
Lestrade has known three versions of Sherlock Holmes.
The first version, he very nearly hated. That Sherlock made him angry and stressed to the point of turning grey. That Sherlock was desperate, violent at times, and prone to emotional outbursts at inappropriate times. Drugged out of his mind on cocaine. Lestrade hated seeing that brilliant mind go to waste. Always worried that one day he would pull a body out of a ditch somewhere and it would be Sherlock’s. Everyone said Lestrade was crazy for trying to help, but he never gave up on Sherlock, never would.
The second version Lestrade tolerated, grew to like and even considered a friend. That Sherlock was clean at least, but without the drugs in his system he had shut down, became distant and depressed. The only thing that seemed to keep him going was a steady flow of cases, which Lestrade was happy to provide. He needed Sherlock, God help him.
The third version Lestrade was proud of. This Sherlock didn’t need the drugs, didn’t really want them. He was calmer, even though he could still be aggressive and destructive at times. He smiled and laughed and there was more life behind those pale eyes than Lestrade had ever seen. This version had John Watson.
This was the Sherlock Holmes that Lestrade loved best.