He scrawled a brief message to Katie to let her know that Greg was all right and back at home, shooing Galileo out the window with the small scroll and a bit of bacon for his trouble.  Glancing around his flat out of habit, he shook his head and grabbed his wand from where he'd dropped it after racing up the stairs from the shop, then Apparated himself to Greg's flat.  He'd certainly never been friendly with Pansy, but if she was Greg's he would be civil, especially since she'd taken the initiative to owl him about Greg's condition. 

Reappearing in the dark living room of Greg's flat a moment later, he glanced around, noticing Pansy immediately.  She was rather pretty, which he'd never bothered to see before, and looked worried but determined not to show it.  He nodded her direction by way of greeting.  "Parkinson."

Pansy looked up at the sound of the Apparation.  "Hello," she replied guardedly.  She put down her book and rose from where she'd been curled up on the couch.  She stretched a bit, working out the kinks in her neck and shoulders. Taking in the look on Fred's handsome face, she tried to twist her face into a reassuring smile, but failed.

Pansy sighed deeply.  "I'm glad you came.  And I know Gregory will be."  She put the book she'd been reading on the coffee table and hugged herself, frowning.  "The whole thing was absolutely horrific.  He'd taken several potions and evidently tried to go for some kind of record with liquor consumption.  I found him passed out and took him to your sister," she looked at him, "who is brilliant at her job, by the way, and she roused him from the coma and then released him, with set instructions for care." 

She picked up her book and sat back on the sofa.  "He's sleeping, but you're welcome to go in, if you'd like." 

"How..?" Fred shook his head, dismissing his own question.  There'd be time to ask what Pansy knew about him later.  At the moment he needed to see Greg, though he felt a bit better knowing that Ginny had been the healer to take care of him.  Making mental note to sweet-talk his baby sister for information sometime soon, he nodded at Pansy again.  "Thank you."

She reopened her book to the page she'd been reading, and put it down again. Stopping, she looked up at Fred again.  "Listen, I know he doesn't look it, but he's fragile right now."  Her expression became serious, and she tapped the book against her hand nervously.   "I believe that he has a friend in you," she began, her face grim.  "I would hate to find out otherwise,"  she finished softly.  Pansy nodded to the hallway, and returned to her book.

Making his way to Greg's bedroom, the memory of the last time he'd been there sharp in his mind as he stepped through the doorway, Fred took a deep breath and observed the man he'd become bizarrely attached to for a moment.  He looked pale, dark smudges marring the skin under his eyes, and Fred's first thought was to be glad Greg was alive, closely followed by the fact that Katie would worry at seeing their ...lover? ...friend? in his present state.  He exhaled forcefully, taking a few steps closer to the bed. 

Greg jumped a bit when he heard someone walking across his bedroom. He rolled and cracked his eyes open only to see Fred standing there looking worried and maybe...just maybe...a bit angry. He pushed up on shaky arms, not bothering to catch the sheet as it pooled in his lap. He leaned against the pillows that someone had piled against the headboard and cautiously watched Fred. Still shaking a bit, he ran a hand through his hair. "Fred?"

Fred moved to stand at the foot of the bed, watching as Greg rearranged himself.  He had obviously been sleeping nude, and while that would normally have been at least a pleasant thought, if not downright distracting, at present Fred was attempting to swallow the irrational anger he felt at seeing Greg again, the boiling, liquid heat of the emotion warring for dominance with cold, gripping worry.  He nodded in acknowledgment, offering, "Parkinson owled me," in return.

 Greg fisted his hands in the sheet and sighed, looking anywhere but at Fred. He knew, just knew, that Fred would yell at him for being so stupid and then leave again. "If you didn't want to check on me, you didn't have to."

"Yes," Fred bit out, resisting the urge to step over and grab Greg's face, demand eye contact, "I did.  I had to see for myself that you were actually still alive."  He forced himself to release his breath and draw another one, trying to refocus on worry instead of rage.  "Katie's been beside herself since Wednesday.  I couldn't not come." Though I likely should have visited the cliffs first; I don't imagine this is what you really wanted from a visit, even if you do deserve a bit of it for hurting Katie.

Greg sighed, making eye contact with Fred. "I am sorry...I wasn't thinking straight."

Snarling, Fred turned away from the bed, then pivoted back on his heel, tired of tamping down the stream of words that wanted to burst forth.  "I can't believe you were bloody well THINKING at all!  You've a sweet, beautiful girl on the string who only wants you to pay attention to her, and you might as fucking well have hit her for all the use your 'goodbye' was!"  He was properly angry now, and it almost felt nice, after keeping his more vicious thoughts to himself around Katie, not wanting to worry her.  "Yes, Greg, with two people who give a damn about you, wanted to help you, the obvious choice is to go drink and drug yourself into a COMA because you didn't want to face a bit of the truth..."

Slowly subsiding into a growl from the full-out yell he'd started with, Fred continued, more reproachfully, "If you'd just stayed that afternoon at the Leaky..."  He scrubbed both his hands over his face, then dropped them to his sides, still simmering but done exercising his lungs.  "You utter fucking sod," he muttered, no venom to his words, "you might have let me explain."

Greg opened and closed his mouth, not quite sure what to say. He knew he deserved being yelled at. His brows rose and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Thanks for the recap. I didn't think, we both know it...hell even your sister knows it. I run, it's what I do. I was a Slytherin for a reason you know. I know I fucked up. If you're going to yell and then tell me to stay the hell away from both of you...get on with it." 

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and listen!" Fred demanded, voice rising in volume again as he stepped into Greg's personal space.  "I don't know the details of whatever ghosts you've got looking over your shoulder, but they're there, and they're always going to be there.  I don't know why you ended up in Slytherin, either, but that's not an excuse.  Running is only what you do because you're so wrapped up in being unhappy you think you haven't any better option.  You're wrong," he hissed, having come to this realization only quite recently himself. "There are at least two people, and I imagine a third, as Parkinson is wringing her hands in your sitting room even now, who'd rather prefer you were alive, just for starters."  Settling back into a neutral stance, allowing Greg a bit of room to breathe, Fred said quietly, "The wards in my flat have been keyed to you since the weekend I stayed here.  You've only ever needed to show up."

Greg ducked his head. He was totally and completely ashamed of himself. It wasn't something he was all that familiar with. He tugged on his hair and grimaced. "I'm a fucked up bastard. I know this...you know this..." He groaned. "I shouldn't have run. I shouldn't have changed the wards. I shouldn't have cut everyone off. I am sorry you know."

Fred nodded, but insisted softly, "Tell that to Katie."  He was quiet until Greg met his eyes, concern and warning shining there as he added, stonily serious, "Don't do it again."

Greg held his hands up in surrender. "I will tell her and I won't do it again, promise."

Bracing one knee on the bed and bending so that he was eye level with Greg, Fred let go of the last thing he needed to, what he had to hear confirmed before he could embrace the plan he'd dreamed so willingly with Katie exactly a week ago.  It was so much more important than anything he could want for himself.  "If you hurt her again," he breathed, "there are no more chances."

Greg's eyes went wide. "I didn't intend to the first time." He lowered his voice and added, "I will not deal alone again, either."

"Thank you," Fred whispered, one hand sliding around the back of Greg's neck, tugging him into a bruising kiss.  He knew what the promise had cost Greg, and would repay it, the apology, and Greg's acceptance with everything he knew how to, starting with forgiveness.

Greg relaxed a bit at the show of acceptance and returned the kiss, slipping one hand up Fred's spine to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly. He felt alive, truly alive, for the first time since he'd run from The Leaky. He wanted desperately to tug Fred closer, wanting to all but crawl inside the gorgeous redhead. This is where I belong, was all he could think. His other hand gripped Fred's hip, his nails digging in just enough to garner a reaction.

Pressing slowly forward, using his hand at Greg's neck to guide, Fred laid them back against the pillows mounded at the headboard.  He felt bad for yelling at Greg when he was feeling low, but it had been necessary, and now they could move on.  Lofty thoughts were quickly lost to relief and happiness at having Greg back, mixed with plain want, desire.  He'd missed this in the fairly short time they'd been apart, which told him more than many things how serious he'd been in proposing the plan he had to Katie.  Nipping Greg's lower lip, tongue flicking out to soothe the sting, Fred settled himself against the strong body beneath him, the hand not twined in Greg's hair moving to play over his shoulder, seeking confirmation of presence, wholeness.

Greg wanted to hold on and never let go. He had Fred back, here, with him. It was like a dream...only better, much better. He let all his worries slip away under the weight of the happiness he was feeling. Only having Katie here, with them, could make him happier. He gripped Fred's hip harder, moaning at the feel of Fred's body pressing him into the pillows. He arched his back, seeking the warmth of Fred's body...the sense of safety he felt when Fred was near. "Am I dreaming?" He wasn't sure he'd even said it aloud.

"Mm?  No, not dreaming," Fred answered, raising his head to look at Greg.  "Nor drunk, nor drugged."  He cupped both his hands around Greg's face, the hints of his demons still there though Fred could practically feel the pleasure radiating from him.  "We'll talk about that later," he promised softly, brushing his lips over Greg's.  "Just here with me," he finally answered, "and right now I plan on us staying that way for a bit." 

Greg pulled Fred tight against his side, content to just soak up the fact that Fred was here, with him. At least for a few minutes. It's not a dream...It's not a dream, he assured himself over and over, still not quite believing it. What did I do to deserve this? "You sure?" he murmured.

Fred stretched and wrapped himself more tightly around Greg, hands wandering over the warm skin he could reach.  "Quite.  I can think of a few ways I wouldn't mind convincing you, but your keeper said you're supposed to be resting."

"Rest with me, then?" Greg asked, hating to sound needy, but knowing it was exactly what he wanted, and might end up being more restful than being alone.

"Of course," Fred agreed, leaving the bed long enough to shed his outer clothes, as he hated sleeping in them.  He crawled under the sheet and pulled Greg back into his arms.  "Sleep.  I'll stay as long as I can," he promised.

Greg smiled as he laid his head on Fred's shoulder. He felt the weariness dragging him down. He could sleep peacefully now that he wasn't alone. "'kay," he muttered groggily.

[Summary] Fred checks in on Greg...Pansy is pleasant..there is arguing and a promise made.