Toby was uninterested in Lestrade at first so John was wary. But when the man stopped him, the pitt bull growled defensively. "Quit." He said with a firm voice, and the dog stepped back and sat on it's hind legs. "Hello Greg." John was still tired looking from the recent ordeal. The anniversary of Sherlock's death had taken a lot of energy from him emotionally and physically. He still even had yet to regain his gun from Rose. Part of him had wanted to be offended, but the other was a little relieved. The places his thoughts took him even during the waking hours of day were not happy ones.
"I am John and you're not hallucinating or dreaming." He said almost with the same firm tone he'd used n the dog. Toby was coming along in his training, and John was damn grateful. He sat at John's side and didn't make a sound. But he had confirmed something important-Lestrade was not his imagination. "Time is fluid." He said, maybe a little too ominously and then offered a tired smile. "It's good to see you." John was sleep deprived, that much showed in just his smile and eyes alone.