"Sherlock, for fuck's sake! You can't go running off on cases like that," Sherlock rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin.
"Shut up John, I'm capable of taking care of myself." Sherlock murmured as Greg kneeled awkwardly by his feet. John did have a point.
Greg lifted his head slightly, wondering whether he should risk telling his Dom that John was actually correct.
"Got anything to say, boy?" Sherlock glanced over at Greg, reading him like a book.
Greg shook his head and bowed his head down, his chin resting against his chest.
A tight tug on his hair made Greg wince, and was forced to look up at Sherlock.
"What is it?" Sherlock asked sternly.
Still wincing, Greg opened his mouth, then closed it again. "It really is nothing, Sir."
A sharp slap to the cheek made Greg frown. "I- I only thought, only for a moment, that maybe John was right, I-ow! Can you let go of my hair, Sir?" he winced.
Sherlock tugged at his hair further before releasing. Greg whimpered and lowered his chin again, feeling ashamed and anxious as to what his Dom would do next. He daren't look up.
"...Sorry Sir," Greg whispered, the guilt growing over him at the realisation that he had disappointed his Dom not once, but twice, in the past two days.
"...Hmm?" Sherlock had returned back into his Mind Palace, and wasn't really paying much attention.
Greg hesitated, as John watched on curiously.
"What is it boy?" Sherlock repeated irritably.
"...I just apologised Sir... for... for disappointing you," Greg began to look visibly more upset, almost on the verge of tears.
Sherlock sighs softly. "Come on, up you get, love," he beckons for Greg to climb up on the sofa next to him. Greg obeys immediately, tentatively resting his cheek on Sherlock's shoulder.
"You haven't disappointed me Greg, you know how much I don't like when you hide things from me. Don't forget I can read you like a book hun, I know when you have the urge to say something," he ruffled his hair and gently pushed his head into his lap.