Printed // Sheriarty AU

2.2

"Yes how... Delightful." Mycroft replies and his attitude makes my eyes roll. He thinks he's royalty I knew it. There's no point talking to him or even getting his attention for that matter. He'll leave soon and that'll be that. He shall never be a part of my life again.

But I'm Greg lestrade. A recovering drug addict who's desperate for a smoke. I am not letting this slide.

I chug about half of my drink, my eyes on one thing. Myc. And he's getting what's coming to him.

I place the half drunken pint on the side of the bar and I walk sternly towards the brothers, a goal clearly on my mind. Worries run through my mind at all of the different possibilities that this situation could turn into, but that doesn't stop me from stomping my way across the pub.

I deserve to have him speak to me, and after tonight, no matter how this turns out, it'll all finally be out of my system. I've been waiting for 10 years to speak to him again, no way am I going to let my nerves and worries stop me from taking this opportunity.

I stop my walking when I near the brothers, my attention not been received yet.

"Hey." I but in on their conversation and I warn both of their attention. Finally, Mycroft has noticed me after so many years. The brothers fall silent and they turn their attention to me. I don't bother looking at what Sherlock's facial expression is but I could tell that he's probably finding this all amusing. You see, Sherlock knows that I've been trying to contact Myc for a while now, so seeing me confront him now must make him find this fairly amusing.

I only stare at mycrofts face. It looks the same but different at the same time to how he used to look. His face is the same, but his eyes look older, and he doesn't smile anymore. Mycroft's eyebrows raise in surprise when he sees me confront them. I swear I see a hint of happiness in his eyes but it's all in my head. He's cold-hearted now, and I can't change that.

"Greg." Is all Myc can manage to say. He has that same alien smile on his face as he did before and it makes me pity him. What changed to make him so cold, so malicious? My blood boils at his lack of sympathy and his lack to apologise for ignoring me for years. I need to talk to him.

Alone.

"We need to talk." My eyes go cold and stern. My lips pierce together forming a straight line. I notice Sherlock backing away slightly in the corner of my eye. He knows what I'm like when I'm angry. Mycroft sucks in his cheeks and his nose twitches. He's dreading the outcome of this as much as I am. I walk towards the doors of the pub, and as I suspected, Mycroft follows.

We both end up behind the pub on a patch of grass. There's a park bench and small shrubbery scattered around. This is the smoking area of course, and I'm dying for one. We stand facing each other, stern looks on our faces. Noone dares speak first, but as I requested him to come out here I guess I'll ask the questions.

"It's been 10 years Myc. You got nothing to say?" I ask a slight twang of hurt in my voice, which I'm mentally killing myself for letting him know that I'm hurt. I stuff my hands in my Jean pockets. He has a look of defeat on his face which seems out of his royal persona. He decided to pull out a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and take one out and light it. He has a look of disgust on his face - not smoked in a while then. He walks closer to me and offers me one. It was so tempting to just take one and breath in the tar and nicotine, but I had to refuse. He sends me a look of surprise.

"I quit." I simply say and I show him the nicotine patches on my arm. He looks straight into my eyes and his eyebrows furrow, like he's trying to work me out. "You gonna answer me then or what?"

He takes a drag of his cigarette. "There's nothing to say"

"You're kidding me right? I've been trying to contact you for years and all you've done is ignore me like I'm some piece of junk from your past. Am I not good enough to talk to you? Am i not far up enough the queens ass that you can't talk to me, is that it?" I tell him what's on my mind and that's it. He stares at me in shock at my sudden outburst from the mellow atmosphere prior.

"Greg, a lot has been going on in my life recently and you were not going to be apart of it, so...there." he takes another drag from his cigarette.

"You didn't want me back in your life again. After all that we went though I wasn't worth anything to you?" My voice quietens as my heart begins to break and I don't know why.

"It was 10 years ago Greg. Move on, because I sure did." And with that he walks away from me back to the pub.

I stand still like a statue in my place on the patch of grass. Of all of the outcomes that I thought of, that wasn't one of them. He's left me heartbroken. I thought that he couldn't effect me like he just did, but guess what he still effects me. He's broken me. I can't help but stand in my place in utter shock. My chest hurts. My breathing becomes erratic. I've waited so long for that conversation, and I didn't want it to end like that.

I don't want him to hate me.

I take a deep breath and I smile sadly to myself. I rub my face with my cold hands and I insert them back into my Jean pockets and I make my way back to the pub.

I open the doors and I see Mycroft mingling with John and Eddie. I grab my jacket from the corner of the pub, deciding that it's best if I leave. I put my jacket on which catches the attention of Eddie.

"Hey where you off to Greg?" Eddie calls from the other side of the pub from the conversation with John and...Mycroft. The two other men turn around and have the same sense of wonder on their face. I avoid eye contact with Mycroft at all possible costs.

"I...Um...I got a call...From the department. They want me to come in." I lie and Eddie sends me a glare of worry as he knows when I'm lying.

"Do you want me to come with?"

"No no. You stay here and enjoy yourself. I'll see you later." I smile sadly at Eddie and his face full of concern makes my heart wrench. I sneak a look at Mycroft and I know that it's a mistake but his eyes say a different story as to what he was acting like outside.

He's concerned. He's sorry.

I shake the image of Mycroft out of my head and I insert my hands into my jacket pockets and I make my way out of the pub, and away from Mycroft.

____________________

"So, you basically ruined all hope of talking to him again and mending your relationship."

"Why am i friends with you Anderson I do not understand." I mumble into the table of an entirely different pub. After I left Sherlock's gathering I went straight to Anderson and his local pub. He wanted me to get drunk, get my mind off of that brat, but he's only making me feel worse.

"You're making me feel worse. I know I fucked up my chance of ever rebuilding a friendship with him and I feel shit about it." Anderson places his hand on my shoulder.

"That's why I brought you here. I get free drinks."

Hey guys! So a slightly longer update and ugh writing this was breaking me, but this is a good starting point as to what I wanted their relationship ship to start like.

Hope you enjoyed the update!

Comment below what you think Greg's role in the upcoming season will be!

-darcie