I am not lonely [Mystrade]

CHAPTER 122 : Please ...

For the third day in a row, Greg awoken on the small dingy sofa in  the corner of his office, the neck stiff of the weird sleeping position  he had fallen into after hours of turning side to side to fin a more  comfortable position. He grunted and check his watch. It was only 6.20  in the morning but knowing that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep  he resolved to stand up and pushed back his feet in his shoes. The  entire floor was still silent and gloomy as none of his colleague  already had arrived and the single light lighten in the corridor near  the lifts wasn't exactly of any help not to hurt anything in the open  space, but the detective still didn't lighten any other lamps.
He made his way to the coffee machine and ordered the strongest blend it could offer, looking at his reflect in the glass while he was waiting for it to be delivered. He was looking all grey and his usually tidied and quite glowy hair were flat and messy, large violet bags under his eyes, a discreet smell of cold tobacco adding to his already quite frankly non-attractivness. He shook his head and grabbed the steaming cup and drank it in only two long sips.
Luckily, Scotland Yard was equipped  with showers so by the time his colleagues started to arrive he was  looking a little better, even if despite his clean shirt and shave, it  was still clearly readable on his face that things weren't all good for  him. Sally gave him a worried look as she passed before him but she didn't felt entitled to make any kind of remarks. As much as she liked Greg and  she valued his friendship, she thought it wasn't her business to  intrude his private life if he wasn't willing to talk about it.
Not able to stand those pitiful looks longer, the inspector retired  to his office and locked the door behind him to make sure not to be  disturbed. He wasn't planning to work, he couldn't actually focus on it,  even if he spent his all day and night in the small room, and paperwork  was pilling on every furniture. He just sat down at his desk and took a look by the window to the grey sky over the westend.
Insisting knowing on the door dragged him back to earth. He took a look at the time displayed on the screensaver of his computer, only to acknowledge he had been staring absentmindly  at the city for the last two and a half hours. He stood up and made his  way to the door, still not sure if he was to open it or just to say to  the guy behind it to piss off.
"Gregory Lestrade,  open this door or I swear I'll open it myself and it won't be pretty."  he heard the muffled voice of Donovan saying behind the wood panel.
Reluctantly,  he unlocked the door and without a look to his adjunct, went back to  his seat and engaged himself with finally entering his computer.
"Cut the bullshit Greg, I know you haven't been working since this morning. Neither did you yesterday,  or the day before for all that matters." she told him. She had no  anger, nor pity I her vice but the authority she was displaying  remembered the policeman of how his mother would scold him whenever he  was coming home with bad marks as a teenage boy. "I know it's probably  not to me to ask you that, but what the hell is going on with you ? And  don't dare tell me everything is alright. No one sleep in his office for  three days when everything is alright."
"You wouldn't understand."  the detective grumbled, not looking at the young woman, afraid she could  read through hi like clear water.
"Bad answer." Sally tutted him.  "You know I'm not going anywhere until I have an answer, don't you ? And  that's not only because I am in need of you signing my reports,  something you haven't done in the last three days, but also and mainly  because I am your friend and I don't like seeing you in such a bad  shape. So you'd better go straight to the fact now."
"You couldn't understand, you are not married." dismissed the yarder, still looking at his hands.
"Alright, so it has to do with Mycroft.  Let me guess, one of you make a stupid and possibly hurtful remark to  the other and it ended up in a fight and by the fact that you aren't  angry but just self-shamming I would guess that you've done this remark.  How far from the truth am I ?" the young woman nodded, pulling herself a  chair beside her boss.
"Not far." Greg admitted, reluctantly. "I've told him he was a liar and to go fuck himself."
"You know you've done quite stupid things since I know you but this one is probably topping all the others." Donovan remarked.
"Thank you." grunted the inspector.
"Tho,  you really think that living in this office while self-pitying all day  for the rest of your life is a wise plan ? Because spoiler alert, it is  not. You've been lucky so far that Jameson is on holidays and haven't  noticed you have constantly ignored every emails  you've received for the past days because if so, you would probably  already have been sacked. And even if you manage to avoid Jameson, is  this really what you want your life to look like just because you've  said two words too much ? I know it's easier to say than to do, but what  about you move your ass and try to make things up better than dying  quite quickly of pain and grief ?" Sally retorted, forcing the man to  look at her in the eyes.
"And how do I do that, Einstein ?" snapped the yarder.
"Use your brain ! What do you think offended Mycroft  the most ?" exclaimed the woman, not taking umbrage of the anger Greg  had shown, actually even thinking that it was at least an improvement as  he was now standing up for himself.
"Between me calling me a liar or  implying that he could be everywhere else than work for all what I knew  ? I have to say I'm not sure ..." replied the policeman, quite ashamed  of his own attitude.
"Please tell me you haven't also implied he could be cheating on you." beseeched his adjunct.
"I  don't know. I mean maybe he could have understood that from 'God only  knows where you could be' but I haven't said it directly. At least I  don't think so." denied Gregory.
"It's still pretty nasty, you know that. All I can say you is  that you've hurt his pride and that we both know how much he values  that. But we also both know that he loves you deeply and that more than  being hurt in his pride, he probably misses you very much." stated  Sally. "I'm no argument specialist, but I would suggest you going back  to your home and apologizing because from what I can deduce, you both  are sad of this situation and you both desperately need one another."
"Do you think I need to bring him a present or flowers to apologise ?" wondered the detective.
"I think you need to move your ass ! He doesn't want flowers, he wants you !" retorted Donovan. "So chop chop ! Here you go !"

Greg stopped his car in the Holmes's Mansion alley and  took a look at the house before him. As he finally gathered his courage  to step out of the BMW and reach the door, he would have swore to have  seen the curtain of the living room moving but as nobody was answering  the door on the first ring, he decided that it was probably just his  mind playing a trick on him. He still rang a second time still with no  answer and was to withdraw, sure that the official was probably at work  and not willing to talk to him when he heard a loud 'bang' and muffled  curses somewhere on the ground floor of the house. Turning back on his heel and strenghtfuly knocked on the door.
"Mycroft, please, I know you are here." the policeman pleaded, his mouth just an inch away from the door.
The cursing had stopped and the yarder heard the chocked sound of light footsteps inside but the door stayed securely closed.
"Mycroft,  please ..." the detective begged. "At least tell me if you want me to  leave. Or open the door, even if it's to slap me in the face. Just say  something, please."
With a discreet 'clic' the inspector heard the door being unlocked and the man behind it retreat to the other end of the corridor, although he understood that he was still granted the access to the place. He slowly pushed the wood panel and stepped in, catching a glance of the other man entering his private study.
He made his way to the small room at the other end of the corridor, remarking the broken  decanter on the floor and entered through the open door, only to face  his partner's back. The auburn was wrapped in a dark burgundy silk  nightgown, his hair all messy, his hands in the pockets of his night  gown, his back arched, an overall impression of fragility and weakness  showing through.
"What are you doing here ?" the elder Holmes asked sharply, his voice cold as ice.
"Myc', please, I know I've behaved like a prick. I know it was inapropriated and invidious. I miss you Myc', I need you ... I  don't know how I can make it up to you but I would do anything. Please,  I know I'm unforgivable but would you please give me another chance ?"  Greg let out in a confused monologue, feeling like an idiot in front of  someone who had clearly too much resentment to just forgive him in a minute.
"Have  you thought about what I could want ?" wondered the auburn, still  turning his back to his husband even if his voice was slightly softer  than it had been earlier. "Have you any idea of how hurtful you have  been toward me ? I've never lied to you Gregory. Never. And I've never doubted of your honesty either. Because  I love you Gregory. You know it that I love you, don't you ? But as  much as I love you, I can't live with someone who don't trust me."
"I trust you Mycroft. I swear it." the detective protested. "It's  just ... Well, you know me ... I'm not perfect and sometime I just say  things that I don't mean ... I have my temper and all that ... You know ...  I'm not good at self-control like you are and I just fuck things up but yeah ... I love you Myc' and even if I say things like I've said you, I don't mean it ... I'm just an idiot sometime and ..."
"I know Gregory." the official interrupted him."I don't want you to self-admonish, I just need you to come back here and bring me back my son. That's all I want Gregory."
The  detective approached from the taller man and shyly wrapped his arms  around his waist, resting his head on the man's shoulder, not yet daring  to look at him in the eyes.
"Alden is still with my parents. I can  go and pick him up later this afternoon if you want." he whispered as he  felt the auburn's hand covering his.
He then slowly shifted his  lover's body in order to see his face and let a gasp out as he glanced a  look at the red eyes and leaden tone of the man's skin as if he hadn't  had any sleep of the last three days and had spent many hours crying.  They stayed in this position, looking right in each other's eyes during a  long time before the detective moved again, grabbing the elder Holmes's  left hand that was still in his pocket.
"Oh Myc', what have you done to yourself ?" he worried, seeing that it was wrapped in a bloody linen.
"It's because of the decanter." the auburn simply explained, letting his boyfriend dubious.
He  could have agreed that it could have been the decanter breaking if only  the cuts weren't that straight and steady and that some of them haven't already started to heal but not willing to break the fragile intimacy they had just started to rebuilt, he didn't made any comment, even if his eyes clearly shown that he wasn't believing a word of it.
"Maybe we should disinfect it and put a proper bandage over it ?" he suggested quietly, leading the younger man to the bathroom.