The fight - Expansion

Chapter 1

The door slammed with a thud that rattled the frame.

"How the hell was I supposed to know it would offend the man?" Greg yelled as he ripped off his tie. Mycroft stood in silence removing his coat.

"It is a well-known Japanese custom." Greg stared at Mycroft.

"Oh it is, is it?" Sarcasm dripping down his voice.

"You know it is Gregory."

"No Mycroft I bloody hell did not. Where the hell am I supposed to learn that?"

Mycroft breathed deep as he started climbing the stairs.

"It is taught in most private schools and refining institutions that you do not leave your chopsticks upright in your bowl of food. It is offered to the dead and considered to invite bad omens to the table."

"Well doo da dee, I wasn't in a private school, I didn't attend a refining school so I didn't know that my chopsticks upright in my food would bring the sodding grim reaper to dinner!" Greg retorted as he started following Mycroft up the stairs.

"So I discovered, however I did thought that you would use some sense and follow the rest at the table." Mycroft replied. Greg stopped.

"Oh monkey see, monkey do?"

Mycroft stopped as well and turned around, his face betraying his confusion.

"Gregory, the point is that I need to do a lot of strategic planning to rectify this mistake of yours."

"You mean kissing arse to fix your dumb boyfriend's lack of social skills?"

"To make it understandable on your level; yes. Now I'm tired and done with this conversation." Mycroft continued his ascent up the stairs, leaving Greg on the bottom. Hurt and feeling inadequate.

"My level? If I'm such an embarrassment to you why did you take me with?" Mycroft failed to notice the pain in Greg's voice as he turned to their room.

"I wasn't aware of the ignorance in your knowledge, next time I'll properly prepare you. Now come on, it's getting late." With that he disappeared in the room, the hallway lit up with light as Mycroft switched the light on. Greg stood there on the steps his eyes burning. He looked around the room, all evident of money and class and his mood turned even darker. He turned around and picked up his coat and his wallet. His phone still in his inner jacket.

Slowly and with heavy feet he opened the front door and left, his heart breaking with every step, knowing that this fight could be the fight that changes everything. He is so way out of Mycroft's private school and refining institution league that even his common sense and ignorance was beyond par.

It took Mycroft ten minutes to realise Greg didn't follow him up. He stepped out the room into the hallway. It was dark.

"Gregory?" There was no answer. With his heart beating faster and mind panicking he switched the hallway light on. The stairway was empty. With even more panic he rushed down the stairs and into every room. It was all empty; stopping into the foyer his eyes ran over everything until it came to rest near the door. Ten minutes ago, Greg's coat was hanging there. It wasn't now.

"Oh God no. Gregory!" He yelled. Lifting out his phone he dialled. There was no answer; he waited till the message alert kicked in.

"Gregory I'm sorry. Please come back. Gregory. Please."

The fight replayed in his mind and as he realised the mistake he made he crumbled to the first step of the stairs, his head in his hands.

XXXXX

Greg didn't think about where he was going, he just got into his car and drove aimlessly around. The pain of the fight still fresh in his mind, and the fight itself replaying on an endless loop in his ears. He stopped when he noticed he was at the Yard. He gave a hollow laugh, why is it that every time he gets upset he finds himself at his work. 'Because the Yard never cheated on you, nor looked down at your level of upbringing' his mind provided for him.

Sighing he parked his car and made his way up to his office. There was only skeleton staff on duty so no one noticed him as he made his way to his office. Once inside he didn't even bother to switch the light on, after so many years he knew exactly where everything was. He shrugged off his jacket and lay down on the sofa. It wasn't the most comfortable, but it did made a good substitute bed in the past, no way it can't now as well.

As he laid there he noticed for the first time his phone's blinking light. One missed call and one voice message. Mycroft tried to call him. Greg briefly wondered how long it took him to realise Greg left. Then again, with his mood he didn't really care. Pressing the necessary buttons he listened to the voice mail.

"Gregory I'm sorry. Please come back. Gregory. Please."

Greg swallowed as tears threatened to fall, Mycroft sounded so worried and remorseful and what was that scared? He was too tired to neither get up from the sofa nor drive back. The likelihood of him sleeping peacefully tonight is scarce but he had to try. Maybe he should at least let Mycroft know he was safe.

He started typing.

"My, I'm not coming home tonight..."

No.

He tried again.

"My, I'm safe for tonight, we can talk..."

No.

"Why? I don't want to."

He tried several times but kept deleting each try.

Finally he found the right words. He grimaced; apparently he was so stupid he couldn't even send a decent text. He looked again.

"Mycroft. I'm safe. GL."

Yeah, sweet and short. He clicked on send and then put his phone on the floor and turned around to face the backrest. Using his jacket as blanket he managed to fall asleep some time later. His phone beeped again but he didn't hear it.

XXXXX

Mycroft on the other hand didn't move from his spot on the steps, his phone clutched in his hand as he realised Greg left home. Their home. He had no idea where he would go or what he would do. He couldn't think as his mind decided on a lock down and freeze on the words he said to Greg. How on earth could he say those things? It was horrible and cold and so unfeeling. 'Your level', 'properly prepare you.' He didn't know how long he sat there so when the phone beeped with a text he was startled. His fingers felt slow as he opened the message box to read the message. It was from Greg.

"Mycroft. I'm safe. GL."

Mycroft stared at the message hoping it would automatically give him more information, but it didn't. His name- full name - not 'My' or 'love' he hated it. He's safe? What the hell does that mean? How can he make deductions about that? Those two words can have so many meanings. It says nothing! Not where he was, whether he was coming home or anything. It was enough to drive him even more frustrated than before. How is he supposed to react to that? He needed more information, more reliable data.

Taking a breath he opened the text box again.

"Gregory, I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but please let me know where you are? Are you okay? It's cold outside, are you warm? Please. I need to know. Can we talk? Are you coming home? Please come home. MH"

He knew he sounded near begging but didn't care. He messed up and might lose the best thing he ever had.

He hit the reply button and waited.

And waited.

It was one in the morning when he finally stood up from the stairs, wherever Greg was, he can hope it was safe and he was okay and he didn't reply because he didn't read the message yet. The alternative just wasn't an option.

As he walked into the bedroom he felt like crying. The bed was so big and empty without Greg. It looked cold and uninviting, so he just turned around and made his way to the living room. He was going to sleep on the sofa. His mind not releasing him from the thoughts of Greg, nor the pain in his voice when he asked why Mycroft puts up with him. It replayed and replayed until he finally fell asleep mentally exhausted.