Greg hobbled into the house. His foot was killing him, but he doubted anything was broken. Besides, it was his fault it was hurting, so he felt like he should just deal with the consequences of it. He was spending the next few days in the manor with Mycroft. It had been intimidating at first, but he'd grown accustomed to the space. He just tried not to think about the exuberantly fancy decorations scattered about: he really didn't like the suits of armour that were on display in various rooms, and the portraits in the hallway were just downright scary. But, on the positive side, the kitchen was superb, and the garden lovely.

Greg limped to the bedroom to change out of his good suit. He was sharing a bedroom with Mycroft, which he enjoyed… most of the time. He'd found that Mycroft was fastidious when it came to keeping the place tidy and in order - and never appreciated it when Greg would just toss his used clothes on the floor. Greg chuckled to himself as he dropped his tie on the ground.
Mycroft's not here right now.

He carefully took off his shoes, then threw them across the room just because he could do so without being told off. Before long, he was clad in his favourite jeans, his old punk shirt he wore when he was angry, and his leather jacket. He knew he should clean the room before Mycroft arrived, however since that was going to be a few hours away, he limped out towards the kitchen for a beer and left the room as it was.

He grabbed a bottle from the fridge, opened it, and took a large swig as he made his way to the lounge. He rounded the corner and just about flew out of his skin.
"Fucking hell Mycroft! Give me some warning next time!" Greg shouted. Mycroft had appeared directly in front of him out of nowhere.
"I did not intent to startle you."
"Startle? You almost gave me a damn heart attack. Aren't you supposed to be at work for like another four hours?"
"I heard you were having a difficult day, and so left early. I still need to do some things yet, but as they could be done from home, I thought I'd come and surprise you… hoping to make you feel a bit better. But to the more pressing question: what happened to you?"
"Huh?"
"You're limping."
"Oh. That." Greg said while blushing. "Come on, I'll tell you in the lounge after we sit down."

Greg threw himself down onto the ridiculously comfortable, and no doubt equally ridiculously expensive, couch. Mycroft sat in his chair next to the couch and eyed him questioningly.
"You know the Water's case?"
"The one I have been trying to get you out of for the past fifteen months? Yes."
"You what?"
"It was a stressful case. Each time you were involved, you got worked up and it was becoming detrimental to your health considering everything else… and so I simply recommended you be taken off it. I was not as successful as I would have liked, but it goes to show how invaluable you are."

Greg blinked cautiously, replaying the past two years over in his head. He'd wondered why he was suddenly demoted to 'consultant' on the case he'd headlined for a while before Sherlock's suicide… but he'd assumed that it was just his boss taking notice of his mental state and the fact he'd taken so much time off. He had liked that he'd been told to come back to it in part with Sally's help… it had made him feel needed. And it had been a good break from all the Sherlock case files. Deciding to not make a big deal over Mycroft's involvement, he moved on.

"Yeah, well… they bloody got off again. AGAIN! I'd been back on the case in full not a month and they strike again… and I'd thought, this time we got 'em. Surely. But no! They fucking walked free again didn't they? The only way we're gonna get them is to catch them in the fucking act!"
"I agree… but how did you get injured?" Mycroft enquired, ignoring the swearing.
"Oh, ah… that. Well I was pretty pissed off about it all and so…" Greg coughed and cleared his throat, "I kicked the wheel of my car."

Mycroft smiled and rolled his eyes.
"Oi, don't give me that. And stop trying to get me out of it, alright? I can headline the case just fine now. I am Detective Chief Inspector now." Greg said with a gleeful smile.
"Indeed. However considering how close you were to that promotion before the Rich Brook debacle, I would perhaps say 'again' instead."
"What do you mean?"
"You didn't notice that even the papers were referring to you as DCI Lestrade?"
"No, not really. I was a bit … preoccupied."
"Yes, well… it had all but been handed to you, the paperwork filed and cleared… and then following the 'incident', your superiors decided to withhold it from you."

Greg shrugged and drank from his beer again. It really didn't matter. He tried not to think too much of the past… well, the period were he was particularly depressed. He found it helped him feel better generally to focus on the present. Mycroft made that much easier to do.

"Will you please move to the side?" Mycroft asked as he stood. Greg slid across the sofa so that there was space for Mycroft.

Mycroft cuddled up with Greg, softly rubbing his arm. Greg felt calmer already by the action, and leaned to the side against Mycroft.
"It'll be ok my dearest. You'll get them next time."

Greg didn't say anything to revoke Mycroft's sentiment. He was just happy the platitudes were said at all… it was something of a recent development for Mycroft.

"I hear that John is planning to ask Sherlock to be his best man." Mycroft said after a few moments.
"Oh? Well, yeah, that makes sense."
"You're not upset that it's not you?"

Greg looked at Mycroft. In truth he did feel a little left out… like Sherlock comes back and suddenly he's the one in the limelight again and everything Greg had done for John in the past, the closeness they'd developed in the wake of it all, just was forgotten. Mycroft understood what his silence meant.

"If it's any consolation to you, I believe he is more engrossed in my brother's presence than blatantly neglecting yours."
"Yeah well, that's always been how it is, hasn't it? Sherlock too. John comes along and suddenly he doesn't have time for me anymore."

Mycroft huffed uncertainly, and cleared his throat.
"Gregory, I'm going to tell you something you may or may not already know, or perhaps believe."
"That John likes Sherlock in a way he can't explain?"
"Well there's that," Mycroft chuckled, "But I was going to refer to my brother. He was always rather emotional, even though he wasn't very good at coping with emotions. He'd often find himself liking particular boys at school but not understanding why."
"How long did it take him to work out he was gay, then?"
"I … it's not as simple as just 'gay' in terms of my brother. And seeing as I was, it wasn't a new concept for him to realise. He has difficulty understanding emotional connections, and so couldn't work out why he couldn't just stop feeling attraction. After his first attempt at having a relationship… or, well, pursuing those feelings he had… he has been too concerned with how to express himself, and worried about doing the wrong thing and making those he loves leave him. His feelings, and expression of them, are not exactly normal."
"That's fairly obvious."
"Good, it's not been obvious to many. Anyway, he has decided to be asexual in an attempt to shield himself from any more difficulties. And I suppose mostly he is, actually. But unfortunately for him, being asexual doesn't stop one falling in love. He'd detached himself from most emotional connections. It had been working out fairly well until John appeared."
"Sherlock is attracted to John?"

Mycroft sighed a little and rested his head on Gregory's shoulder.
"John has become my brother's whole world, and he is terrified of doing anything to lose him. He no doubt tested John early on if he'd be interested, and likely used the age old excuse of 'married to his work' to deny his inquisition. I'm sure it's not been easy for him to hear John's frequent proclamations of being 'not gay', and remain besotted with him. At least Sherlock and Mary get along well, and she easily picked up on Sherlock's interest.

"The sad thing is, that John does harbour feelings for him. He's repressed them enough to not even realise what they are… and simply accepted that Sherlock is his amazing best friend. I'm sure it's not the first time there's been a man in John's life he's been inexplicably drawn to. Someone for whom he'd risk everything, do anything… except, perhaps, engage in those feelings of attraction."
"This is all very interesting, Myc, but I don't understand your point." Greg said bluntly. He'd guessed almost all of this information before. Still, it was nice to know he was likely not wrong in his assumptions.

"My point is, Gregory, that Sherlock is going to need a lot of support in the coming months to handle the man he loves marrying someone else, and John is of course going to place Sherlock higher in his considerations than you because of his subconscious affections. It's not a personal vendetta against you or your actions."
"Oh. Right. Well, that's good then. When you say 'support', what do you mean?"
"Who knows. Could be anything from agreeing to give him another case, to accepting his insults when he's having a particularly difficult time handling his emotions, or if it gets really bad… he may even reach out to you."

"Sherlock? Ask for help?" Greg asked incredulously. That man avoided help like the plague.
"It's been known to happen. But you are right, it's likely it'd be only in the most dire of circumstances."
"What, like, life threatening?" Greg asked pointedly.
"You are aware of how self-destructive my brother can be. While he has never been one to be suicidal, he has indeed placed himself into lethally precarious situations in order to cope with difficult matters. Sometimes it has been drugs, other times it has been criminals. Considering he doesn't want to do things to inflame John's wrath, I would suspect the latter to be more likely."
"Alright… I'll do what I can. You'll keep an eye on him too, though, yeah?"

Mycroft didn't respond, and merely hummed against him. It could have been either a yes or no, or perhaps even avoidance. Probably an 'of course', but not willing to admit his methods. Greg filed the information away in his mind for later, and tried to focus on the warmth of his partner's body against his own. He took a few deep breaths, wriggled about to better cuddle Mycroft, and closed his eyes. He kissed Mycroft gently on his forehead.

"I'm glad I have you to come home to." Greg said warmly.
"And I you." Mycroft responded, moving in and kissing Gregory softly.