Greg had to get out of his flat. The last week of seeing practically nothing but the walls of his flat had nearly driven him over the edge. He knew that he had to regain his strength and allow the potions time to clear out the shite he'd poured into himself, but it had been boring. He'd even had to owl Alexi for more DVDs. There had also been a lot of time spent thinking about how stupid even taking the potions had been. No matter what, Maeve and Pansy needed him- they always had and always would. They were his. The thing was...he'd realized that he could be someone's too and not lose the girls...his family. He was a little lost and a little broken. That had to be fixed. It wasn't something easily fixed, but maybe, just maybe, with help he could fix himself eventually.

He showered and dressed in warm clothes to stave off Luthien's muttering. His luck, she'd disappear and report to Beren that he wasn't taking care of himself. That meant Pansy would pop in and try to yell at him. He'd only allow her so much lee way with that. He knew how Pans worked. He also knew how Maeve worked. He'd always been the one to 'handle' them. The two of them, above and beyond anyone else, were his family. Mine, he thought, my sisters.

Waving off Luthien's concern, Greg stepped into the hallway outside his flat and pulled a black skullcap on before adding the hood of his hoodie. He'd even worn gloves in deference to the chilly early evening air. His wallet was in the back pocket of his jeans and his wand was in the front pocket of his hoodie. He wasn't about to catch a cold or something stupid, not so soon after being as ill as he'd been. He let his mind wander as he meandered through the streets of Muggle London towards The Leaky. The pub was half-full when he slipped through and entered Diagon Alley, and thankfully no one seemed to recognize him as he made his way towards Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The space Fred had given him was as appreciated, but it was time to talk. He tried the shop door and was surprised to find it unlocked.


Stepping inside, Greg smiled softly, thinking of all the pranks he'd pulled with the twins' merchandise. He peeled off his gloves and stuck them in the pocket of his hoodie before lowering the hood. The shop was comfortably warm after the chilly air. Thinking of all the times he'd used the items on the shelves to protect what was his, he called out, "Fred?"

Mostly finished with his afternoon puttering in the lab, as he wasn't actually on track for any major projects, Fred looked up as he heard a familiar voice call his name, realizing that he'd not locked the door, though he'd set the sign to read that the shop was closed. Dusting the residue of exploding powder carefully from his hands before rinsing them in the cleaning solution he and George had developed specifically for lab purposes, he called, "In the lab, come on back!"

He was glad Greg had decided to seek him out; perhaps it meant that they could get through some of the things they needed to discuss, to get to the place they'd almost had a start from before. If they were going to work, the three of them together, they each needed to be grounded and understand where the others were. Fred was fairly sure of Katie, at least as pertained to himself, but Greg had gone from unknown to complete mystery, and that was no starting ground for something as potentially serious as involving him with Katie. Hands clean of anything potentially dangerous, he turned to the open door of the lab, moving a step in that direction as he heard footfalls.

Greg followed the sound of Fred's voice half-lost in his thoughts. He wasn't entirely sure that everything hadn't changed but was willing to play this out. Maeve's words had shaken him down to his bones. He so didn't need any more upheaval in his life. Shoulders hunched and chin on his chest, Greg looked up through his hair. Fred was framed in the doorway of what looked to be an extensive lab with an unreadable, at least to Greg, look on his face. "Hope you don't mind that I just stopped by."

Taking in the very unhappy set of Greg's shoulders, the harrowed look in his eyes, Fred paused in his forward motion, tilting his head to one side in question. "Not a bit, you're always welcome here. Or upstairs." Not quite sure what Greg wanted or would accept by way of greeting or comfort, he held one hand out, loosely, an offer designed to mean what Greg wanted it to, unassuming enough to be ignored if he so chose.

Greg warily laid his hand in Fred's as Maeve's words bounced around in his head as they had been almost constantly since she left. What would be taken as a small gesture by most meant the world to Greg at the moment. Fred had, literally and figuratively, reached out to him. He wasn't sure he'd ever needed it more than he did right now. His words slipped out before he could stop them. "It's good to know I'm welcome somewhere."

Fred frowned minutely at Greg's answer, drawing him slowly closer until he could grasp the tense shoulders, sliding his hands along Greg's arms over the padded fabric of the jumper. "Any time," he reiterated, preventing his brow from furrowing in concern by sheer force of will. "I'm done here; we could go upstairs for a bit... wouldn't mind knowing what's got you so sunshiny this evening," he jibed lightly, showing a small smile in hopes of brightening Greg's expression some.

Unsure of what to do or say just yet, and knowing that he couldn't keep what was wrong from Fred, Greg simply said, "Thanks."

With a quick locking spell and the password to set the wards, a muttered 'nox' to douse the lights, the shop was ready to be left for the evening, and Fred trailed Greg along behind him by one hand, as he might do with Katie. He guided them up the stairs and into his flat, stopping by the kitchen door long enough to remove his shoes, then moved to the sofa and settled himself in one corner, the end-table lamp charmed to a pleasant dimness with a word as he waited for Greg to decide to join him. This hesitant attitude was unlike the Slytherin, and Fred found it decidedly perturbing, though he refrained from showing as much.

Greg dropped down next to Fred feeling a bit worn from the day's events. He resisted the urge to lean on Fred and curl up like Pansy liked to do with him when she was upset. He wasn't used to this feeling, as he was normally the one people leaned on, physically or emotionally. All he knew was that with Fred he would be willing to do so, be willing to be comforted, to lose a bit of the control. It was something he'd only encountered with the redhead currently watching him. He just wasn't sure how to say so. He took a deep breath and looked Fred in the eyes, silently asking for him to understand. He was nearly broken at the moment, wary and unsure of everything.

Smiling sadly at the uncharacteristic display of nerves and tension, convinced that there was something large and unpleasant waiting to be explained, Fred forced himself to relax against the cushions, keeping his posture open. "Come here," he directed, "and sit with me the way you want to. I don't mind and I won't push you away." Perhaps the specific instruction would suit better than mute patience.

Oh thank Merlin, Greg thought as he curled up and took the support he needed at the moment. He laid his head on Fred's shoulder and relaxed fully for the first time in days. He let the silence stretch, trying to find a way to explain what was going on in his head. "You're the only one. Not pushing me away, I mean."

"Oh?" Fred asked, as neutrally as possible. He slid his arms around Greg, guessing from the easy acquiescence that it was what was needed at the moment. Resting his cheek lightly against Greg's temple, he went quiet, just there, until Greg felt like forming an answer.

"Two people...family really..." he said slowly. "Well, one is my sister in every way that counts." He gave up right then. He would just let the words flow and hope he made some sort of sense. He closed his eyes and let it all go. "She called me an insufferable bully and suggested I behave more like Zabini. The other...he's in trouble, I know he is. He told me to worry about myself and that he could handle it." He laughed, though it was full of bitterness instead of amusement. "No matter how much he's changed, he still needs help. They wouldn't let me help."

Fred listened, silent except for the subtle brush of his fingers over the fabric covering Greg's shoulder. "Family is like that sometimes," he said softly, remembering spats with his brothers, with Ginny, their parents. "The gods only know how many times Ginny told George and I to shove off and leave her be. We never listened, of course... she's our- my baby sister, and she gets looked after no matter what. It's generally a matter of either explaining why or watching from a distance." He knew the advice was only so helpful, and held his tongue a while, eventually adding, "Everyone needs help sometimes, you included. Unless it's dire, let things lie for now and take care of you."

Greg rolled his eyes more out of reflex than anything. "I do watch from a distance, usually. It was only when she went and moved the wanker into her house that I started to wonder what was going on in her head." Venting helped, but he needed to grumble a bit more about it before he tackled the other part of what Fred had said. "The wanker shagged Pans then turned around and shagged Maeve...I even warned the idiot what would happen if he made her cry." He leaned back enough to meet Fred's eyes. "What would you have done if some bastard used your sisters like that and then spoke badly of them in public?"

Brushing Greg's hair out of his eyes, Fred took the time to consider an answer. "Checked on the girls, first, then caught the bloke in question somewhere private to remind him how to treat ladies. I'm guessing one of the sisters in question is Pansy Parkinson. I don't remember a Maeve, though, from anywhere near your year at school. I doubt I want to know who the bloke is, though if Parkinson's involved, I can't imagine she hasn't hexed him half to death yet." He tugged Greg's cap off and laid it aside, combing his fingers through the shaggy strands now accessible. "I take it things aren't going so well on that front, though?"

It felt so good to have Fred's hand in his hair that he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feelings. He adored having hands up in his hair in any way, shape, or form. If Fred kept this up, he'd be content to sit here like this all night. Relaxing even more, his eyes slid closed. "No, Maeve...Tracey, Tracey Davis...she sent me a Howler for punching the wanker. Then she yelled at me. Pans is too caught up with McLaggen to bother with what the little bastard said. It was worth the Howler to thrash him on my birthday...not worth her nearly walking away though."

Slightly lost in the sequence and scope of what Greg was talking about, but knowing it would be better to let him finish instead of jumping in and sorting things through, Fred tried to pick up the points that seemed to be most distressing. A smile stole over his lips as Greg went nearly limp against his side, and he continued the consistent petting as he asked, "Your birthday? When was that?" He filed away the information that Parkinson and McLaggen were a potential item, having never been a fan of Katie's insistence that McLaggen was 'just misunderstood', and tried to wind the rest of the new information together enough to make a coherent picture. "So Maeve, then, she's upset over you thrashing the fellow who used her for a shag and is apparently living with her?" He had to be missing something. Girls were mental, as a general rule, but so far the facts weren't quite adding up.

"Halloween, my birthday I mean," Greg nearly purred, not minding in the least that Fred was supporting him. "They're mine, Pansy and Maeve. No one hurts them and gets away with it. I told him I would thrash him if he hurt her. She apparated to my flat all upset." He sneered a bit as he said, "I hit him twice and laid him flat. It's not like I gave him a limp."

"Wish I'd known, though I suppose you weren't in the mood for company after dealing with upset girls and whatever sod's been toying with them," Fred reasoned. "I imagine she's still attached to him as it's got you so turned around, half a week later," he guessed, knowing he'd be beyond upset if someone had done the same to Katie, or even Angelina. "What else?" he coaxed, remembering mention of someone else turning away, and his own still-unanswered statement.

"Yeah she is. She yelled today and said some things I never thought she would say." He turned a bit to scoot as close as possible to Fred and figured he would tell all since he'd already shared most of it. "She's been mine since...well forever. I told her to go, gave her the choice actually." His voice hardened. "I wouldn't allow the rat bastard son of a bitch come between us." He sighed. "The other...Draco. He said I should take care of myself. I've been mostly stuck in my flat for a week drinking nasty potions, having a house elf mother me and likely reporting my every move to Pans."

Tipping Greg's face to look at him, fingers still playing through his hair, Fred had to point out, "But you are, if you've told her to go. I can't say I'd be any less angry than you are, really, but once you've both had a chance to be apart a bit, you'll have to talk to her, or he'll be between you, and that's not on." He blinked in surprise a moment, then arched an eyebrow. "Malfoy?" It ought not to be such a surprise, as Greg had been practically attached to the then-obnoxious blond for most of their school years, but he couldn't reconcile the image of pompous, smug Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts with a person who gave a damn about someone he knew. Losing control over a smirk, Fred tugged a lock of hair. gently, quipping, "But it's good for you, and I'm not sure I'd want Parkinson checking up on me... you might want to go along with the house elf and the potion regimen."

Greg snickered, biting back a moan as Fred tugged on his hair. "Draco," he huffed. "He needs someone to watch out for him. Always has and always will." He refrained from mentioning that Ginny would be the one looking after him if Draco had his way about things. He rather figured it would be all to amusing to watch Draco dance to Ginny's tune. It wouldn't do for Fred to know about it just yet. Though, if Draco ever moved past pining then Greg would spill all. "He's a good friend, a brother of a sort. You're right about Pans though. I've been taking my potions like a good little boy."

Fred chuckled, deciding to dismiss his disbelief over Malfoy for the time being, grateful that Greg's mood seemed to be slowly improving. "Little, you're not," he teased, running his hand over Greg's sturdy bicep and shooting him a pointed look. "But you'll have to keep up with that until you've finished whatever you're supposed to. No going back to bad habits," he reminded, voice softening with the warning.

Greg grinned cheekily at the compliment and then pouted. "I am. I did promise I would behave. You could always drop in and check with Luthien. She'd tattle on me in an instant, especially to you or Pans."

"Smart elf," Fred laughed, pulling Greg closer for a kiss. His worries weren't completely allayed, but Greg seemed happier, and that was something. "And loathe as I am to admit it, Malfoy is onto something; taking care of yourself is important. You can't take care of anyone else, your Maeve and Par- Pansy included, if you can't keep yourself healthy and content and on your own two feet," he said, hoping the logic would make its way through to Greg.

"I will," he replied seriously and then grinned. "You actually said Pansy!" Feeling good enough to tease a bit, he narrowed his eyes and looked Fred over. "Did she hit you with some sort of congeniality hex or something?" He relented though, adding, "She's family, more so than anyone other than Maeve. It's good to know you two didn't hex each other right off." He set his head back on Fred's shoulder. "Both are more fragile then they like to let on. I'll set it right with Maeve soon enough. Shopping and sparkly things are the key to keeping both of them from staying mad at me."

Smirking as an idea formed, Fred muttered, "All right, you," and shifted, sprawling them both sideways and scooting Greg toward the other end of of the sofa so they'd have room to stretch out. He settled himself against the center of Greg's body, a rather wicked smile gracing his lips as Greg blinked up at him. "I can't say for sure, but she, Pansy, seems to be a bit of all right. Not planning on brassing her off, as I distinctly remember an aspect of 'hex now, ask questions later', but as I've actually seen her since school, now, and you call her by name, it seems a bit silly to keep using her surname." Shaking his head at the mention of sparkly things, he leaned down to kiss Greg again.

Greg was surprised but not displeased in the least when one moment Fred had been teasing him and the next kissing him. He slid his hands up Fred's arms, one resting on his shoulder and the other sliding behind his neck. He needed this, to touch, to hold, to feel, to be needed.

He hadn't realized it in so many words, but along with being worried and not wanting to interfere too heavily, Fred had missed this part of their fledgling relationship. Being wary of allowing too many people inside his walls kept the potential for future pain lower, but at core he was friendly and enjoyed being close to people he worried about, which Greg had somehow become in fairly short order. Nipping Greg's lower lip gently, catching and tugging a bit with this teeth, he reminded them both of the physical connection they'd made almost immediately that day at Gringotts.

Greg's hands flexed, pulling Fred closer as he hummed in pleasure, deepening the kiss. He'd missed this, the feeling of belonging. He'd never felt safe belonging to someone before. He'd always been the one that people belonged to. He realized, right then and there, that belonging to Fred wasn't a bad thing at all.

Fred had to remind himself that Greg was still recovering, still shaky, had only in the past few minutes managed to pull himself out of a terrible mood; Greg tested his focus at times, dragging heavily towards distraction. He pulled back a little, watching Greg's face in a mix of affection and curiosity, both pleased and relieved that a visit had been chosen over alcohol or potions and solitude. There was little doubt in him that Greg sincerely meant what he said about being committed to avoiding a relapse, but he knew all too well the siren song of bad habits when life was rough, when it seemed the pattern of mistakes and catastrophes would never end. "Feeling a bit better now?" he asked quietly, smoothing his hands over Greg's shoulders.

With you touching me...of course. Greg smiled wryly and laid his head back, fully relaxed. Who in their right mind wouldn't feel better with Fred Weasley basically in their lap? Only a complete moron, something Greg wasn't- contrary to popular belief. "Yeah, loads better."


[SUMMARY: Greg visits Fred to vent a bit and find some comfort.]