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No," Greg whispers, shaking his head, "no, no, no, no."
He presses his hands against his ears and closes his eyes. This couldn't be real... This couldn't have just happened...
"Everything was supposed to be all right, he was going to marry that cute Frey girl and..." He is unable to finish his sentence because Joan is grabbing his left hand, so he opens his eyes to look at her. "And Grey Wind." Greg says, his voice trembling slightly. For a brief moment, he thinks about Admiral, the dog he had as a child and who died from being run over by a car. Greg was six when it happened and he cried for three days straight afterwards.
"It was way more shocking in the book," he hears Sherlock say as he turns the TV off and before Joan tells him to shut up. "But it's not uncommon for people to be touched by the death of fictional characters; it's understandable. It brings us back to our own mortality."
Coming from Sherlock, it's akin to an apology. And it's enough for Greg, who sniffles loudly and smiles at him as a ‘thank you.’
Joan runs her fingers through her hair as she lets go of Greg's hand. "We could use some tea, couldn't we?" She immediately stands up from the sofa and goes to the kitchen.
"Are you going to be all right?" Sherlock asks hesitantly.
Greg nods, rubbing his eyes, "Yeah, fine. I'll be fine." That damn show... He is starting to really hate it now.
"You know you can cry if you want; it would be fine, understandable –“
“I know." Greg kind of wants a hug right now (but not from Sherlock), and he knows he is too sensitive for his own good, but he doesn't care. It’s easy to think that someone like the detective inspector would be used to death in all its forms but no, the truth is that he never gets used to it -- at least, to Greg's less than humble opinion.
When Joan comes back with tea, Greg is still thinking about Admiral but it's a happy memory he has in mind; he's four and he has just started playing football. His dog follows the ball and tries to bring it back to Greg every time he kicks it.
"Do you guys feel better?" Joan asks before taking a sip of his tea.
“Yes.” Greg replies. “Perfectly fine."
They stay on the sofa, silent, and Greg thinks it's a very nice moment. He's happy now (despite that awful tv show.) Sometimes, he likes to think he has found a new family, but he's afraid it will be taken from him just like his first, back in London. So Greg shakes his head because he doesn't want to think about it. Not now anyway.
"Do you want to go out tonight?" He asks Joan all of a sudden. She doesn't have a case after all. He wants to take her some place nice and make her happy. He wants to hear her laughing and saying she loves him (which makes Greg's heart skip a beat every time).
He needs all of these things.
"Sure," she says, and Greg has already almost forgotten Grey Wind.
"Awesome." He grins and presses a light kiss on her cheek.
He's pretty sure Sherlock is rolling his eyes next to him.