Can't leave you alone for five seconds here

"What do you care anyway?" Mikey asked bitterly. He took his son from Tom. "You go with him."

"What do you mean what do I care? I love you," Butcher was shocked.

"You only thought of that when you got off the phone." Mikey snapped. "Not that important, is it?"

"You are important to me." Butcher's eyes fell to look at the ground.

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Same old same old. You're like a broken record."

"What? What do you want me to do, Mikey?" Butcher didn't look up.

"Just go to your Goddamn wedding like you want to!" Mikey snapped. "I'm fed up of being a rock around your neck!"

"You're not. When I tell you I love you I mean it," Butcher said quietly but sharply.

"Go." Mikey repeated, eyes dark.

Butcher didn't say anything else, knowing that they'd been here in a similar situation before. I ruined everything.

Mikey pointedly turned his back, his wings shooting out to wrap around himself.

Butcher flinched and turned around to leave without meeting anyone's eyes.

"Moody bastard." Tom muttered. He stood up and walked past Butcher, brushing his hand against the inside of his elbow sympathetically.

It was lucky Mikey had a wingspan of twelve foot. He couldn't reach his stomach anymore with his hands.

Butcher followed Tom slowly, not able to help looking back at Mikey before he left the room.

Tom shook his head, hating what he'd just seen.

Butcher wiped his eyes on his arm to make sure none of his tears spilled over.

Tom wrapped an arm around Butcher. "Come on." He whispered.

Butcher smiled at Tom slightly and let himself be taken away.

"If it helps..." Tom raised an eyebrow. "I know Mikey. And he does love you, whatever he says."

"I know he loves me but I made him moodier," Butcher shrugged.

"Bullshit." Tom shut the door behind him. "He's Mikey. He can't possibly get any moodier."

"Not even with seven dwarves in his tummy?" Butcher stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Seven dwarves..." Tom chuckled. "I like." He grew sombre. "He already has twice the hormones, at least, I think he does." He rolled his eyes. "He'll be fine. You do kinda let him walk all over you though."

Butcher grunted and punched Tom's arm lightly. "Okay... maybe I do."

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