I am not lonely [Mystrade]

CHAPTER 72 : Nervous Breakdown

"Oh for God's sake shut up !" roared Gregory to his team.
"So Graham I was saying ..." the younger Holmes started.
"IT'S  GREG ! And shut up you too Sherlock !" the detective interrupted him,  letting everyone in the room making funny and shocked face before  storming out and dashing to his office, slamming the door.
"Have I  said something wrong ?" wondered the consulting detective, turning to  John, looking surprisingly rather unsure of himself.
"You really  should learn his name you know. I really don't understand how a genius  like you is unable to learn just four letters ..." replied the doctor.
"Because he is a psychopath and doesn't care about anyone." intervene Donovan.
"High-fonctionning sociopath Sally. And that's none of your business." jerked the young man.
"He is right Sally, that's none of your business." Anderson slipped into the conversation.
"And since when are you defending the freak Phillip ?" wondered the young woman.
Letting  the three of them to their childish argument, John silently exited the  room and walked down the corridor to the DI's office, knocking gently on  the door. The lights weren't turned on, despite the pitch dark night,  but the doctor could hear some soft noises inside the room indicating  him the presence of his friend. He knocked another time, still obtaining  no answers.
"Greg, it's John. Please let me in." he tried quietly.
He  waited a few seconds and was ready to asked again when he heard the  discreet 'click' of the lock. He pushed the door and slipped in the  room, finding his friend sat on the floor just beside the door, his  knees against his torso and hi arms wrapped around his legs, looking absentmindly at the moon through the windows. John closed the door and st beside the detective, patting him friendly on the shoulder.
"Do  you think they will ever be able to work together for a day without  wanting to kill one another John ?" the inspector let out, sounding  really depressed by his team behaviour.
"It's Sherlock fault. He've been like this all week, can't say why ..." replied Watson, trying to sound reassuring.
"It's  not only Sherlock, is it ?" retorted the policeman. "Sally and Phillip  can't say a word to each other without it being WWII all over again. Donougher  can't take an order without having a 15 minutes speech on why he should  do what he is ordered. Stephen don't want to work with anyone. What is  going on ? How can I be that bad at recruiting a damn team ?"
"Greg,  it's not your fault if they can't behave themselves." John shushed him.  "You are trying your best, it's just that this day have been tiring for  everyone and that doesn't reveal the best part of them."
"No, it's  not only today. It's just not a team. They are unable to work together."  explained the yarder. "They are all the best in their specialities and  still, as team they worth nothing because they just aren't a team. What  kind of team leader does that make me ?"
"Come on, they don't worth  nothing. Today haven't been a good day, right, but they are very  capable, look at your rate of success, it's the highest in Scotland Yard  !" denied the blonde.
"No, that's just because I call Sherlock  fucking Holmes every fucking time I'm fucking stuck, which is pretty  much fucking always." snorted Gregory.
"Mate, come on. Stop blaming yourself like this, you know it's not true." John tried to reassure him.
"Uh ..." the detective giggled humourlessly. "Maybe I should give up, take a desk job. That would be easier, wouldn't it ?"
"And  it would make you desperately unhappy. We all have bad days, maybe this  one is worst but don't give everything up for a bad day." retorted the  doctor, placing his hand on the other man's knee in a comforting  gesture.
"That would give me desk job's hours, I'll be able to see a  lot more of my son, maybe start playing the guitar again and have a look  at Sarah's drama group productions." continued the inspector as if he  haven't heard his friend's remark.
"But you'll hate your new job. You hate paperwork and all that stuff." John tried again.
"But  that will allow me to be home every night and not to be completely  exhausted because of the childish behaviour of my team." remarked Greg.  "Maybe that's the most important thing for me now John, I'm not a young  man anymore, I should stop pretending to act like one."
"It's  not a question of being a young man or not. It's the question of are  you ready to spend 8 hours a day, five days a week for the next 15 years  doing a job you hate to avoid an argument now and then ? That's the  real question Greg." Watson asked him, his voice a little more steady,  trying to make the other man react.
"And am I ready to risk another  marriage and another of my children for a job that I only half like ?  Isn't that a question too ?" retorted the detective, defensively.
"Do  you really think Mycroft is blaming you for your job and that he will  appreciate his partner coming back home every night bored from his day ?  He is not an example of being at home every night either is he ? He  understands that and I can swear that he just want you to be happy  Greg." replied the doctor.
"And how would you know that ? You meet for fish and chips every Friday at lunch maybe ?" chuckled the yarder.
"Surprisingly enough we do talk. Maybe not around fish and chips  but if you want to know everything when you've been injured he was  afraid that you would take a desk job to avoid risk and that it would  make you unhappy. He said it to me, he doesn't care if you sometime have  impossible hours or if you sometime have to take risk if it makes you a  happy man at work." responded Watson, looking right in his friend's  eyes.
"I don't know John. I'm not even sure I'm happy anymore doing what I'm doing ..." retorted the policeman, dismissively.
"Come  on Greg, go back home, spend the night with your family and have a good  sleep, tomorrow will be better. There is no point in continuing the  investigation tonight, nobody is in the mood for this." concluded the  blonde before squizzing the older man's shoulder once more in a friendly gesture and leaving the office.
He made his way back to the meeting room where the rest of the team was now quiet, looking at each other with venomous  look, the tension sensible in the air. Sally was the first to speak,  trying to hide the ressentiment she had in her voice. "What is going on ?  Is Greg alright ?"
"I think he is a bit tired and sick of the  constant battlefield that this room has become. I've sent him back home,  doctor's order to avoid a more severe nervous breakdown. Come on, team  dismiss, go back home, think about your behaviour and come back tomorrow  morning if you are willing to work as a team or I think you'll better  stay at home because I'm quite concern he is ready to sack anyone who  will have a childish behaviour." the doctor warned them all.
With  concerned looks, the policemen all exited the room, one after another,  Sally closely following them, starting to realise what a hell of a team  they sometime might be. Of course, she didn't consider it was completely  her fault if she was often mad at a member of the team, most of the  time this member being Anderson who, despite her constant rejection,  still tried to invite her out for a date, but that maybe if everybody  hold their nerves a little more, it would be easier for everyone to  work. Of course, sometime being mad at someone was a human reaction and  she was quite certain Greg wasn't blaming them for that, him having his  own bad days now and then, but she had to agree that it was more than  often to have harsh arguments in their team, most of the time for very  stupid reasons and that if peace could come back, maybe they would be  able to do their job better and quicker. Greg was her friend and she  knew that for loosing his temper like that, he must have been really  upset since quite a long time and she was determined to do something,  she didn't knew what for the moment, to sort this situation out.
John and Sherlock were now the last in the room, the younger Holmes looking absolutely  not concerned by what just had happened. Watson dragged him out and  they walked down the corridor to the lifts, the doctor checking on his  way that Greg had indeed left the building for his home, smiling a little when seeing that his office was empty.
"What is so hard for you in remembering Greg's name Sherlock ?" he asked once they were settled in a cab.
"What  is important in a name ? If I ever knew it I just deleted it for  something more important." answered the young man, looking absentmindly by the window. "Why is London so boring at the moment ?"
"Sherlock, don't try to change the subject." the blonde scolded him. "It's important to him. Just, do it ! Call him by his real name that's it, that's what normal people usually do."
"I'm not a 'normal people' John." retorted the consulting detective with a disgusted look.
"You bloody are not but God save me, behave like one just on this point !" half-yelled his flatmate. "G-R-E-G. Four letters. Put that in your thick head and stop erasing it !"
"Would that be any kind of comfort to him really ? It's just a name." chuckled the dark-haired.
"Yes  it will." responded the doctor. "You Holmes, can't understand that for  whatever reason, but real people like when they are called the right  name and Greg is part of those normal people."
"Boring." pouted Sherlock. "Normal people are always so touchy. It's boring."
"You,  you mister Sherlock Drama Queen Holmes is talking about being touchy ?  That's the best joke I've heard in a decade really !" exclaimed Watson,  half yelling, half laughing.
"I'm not a drama queen John ! And I'm not touchy !" denied the younger Holmes, looking offended.
"Point proved." replied the doctor. "So now stop arguing, just put those four letter in your head and use it !"