Sherlock sat straight up on his bed with his breath stuck in his throat. Something was not right. He knew it since his whole body was shaking; it told him something, something that he couldn't deduce.

Sherlock went up from his bed and dressed himself in one of Mycroft's black dressing gowns made of silk, then he quickly went out of his room and headed downstairs. Mycroft was standing in the big kitchen, cooking pancakes judging by the smell. Anthea was standing right next to him with her hand on his shoulder.

"Brother." Sherlock said with a tense voice. He hadn't used that voice in quite a while. Mycroft immediately turned around and met his brother's stare./p

"Yes Sherlock?" Mycroft asked with a perked eyebrow, his mouth shrunk to a small pout. Anthea also turned around to look at Sherlock. She took over the pancake cooking from Mycroft.

"You are hiding something from me." Sherlock said with a low growl emerging from his throat. He bared his teeth menacingly at Mycroft; they quickly grew longer as Sherlock allowed his body to transform a little.

"Hiding something from you? Why would I do that brother? And take it easy. Why are you so tense?" Mycroft asked slightly worried and raised his hands in front of him, showing that he didn't want to pick a fight.

This made Sherlock's body tense even more. Tons of fur started to grow on his arms and legs, wolf-ears popped up at the top of his head and his face started to grow longer.

"Please Sherlock, calm down. I do not want to fight you, okay?" Mycroft begged and swung Anthea behind him to protect her from his brother.

"You are hiding something from me!" Sherlock repeated himself. His voice was something in-between a loud human growl and the deep warning growl of a wolf. He went down on the floor, letting out a loud groan with pain when his back cracked and grew longer. He gripped the wooden floor with his growing nails, they carving deep scratches on the floor when they turned thicker and sharper.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft shouted, now angrier and more determined than before. He didn't want his brother to transform, especially not when Sherlockwas angry and emespecially /emnot when his children were in the house. He would be able to smell them and nothing would stop him from going to them once he did. Mycroft figured Sherlock was angry because Sherlock could instinctively sense that his children were right here in the house but Sherlock didn't understand and couldn't know what it was he was feeling. Mycroft ran towards his brother and put his hands on Sherlock's shivering shoulders.

"Please Sherlock, calm down!" he begged while staring into Sherlock's now amber glowing eyes.

Sherlock answered his begging with a loud snarl and a scratch to Mycroft's left cheek. His claws went deep into the elder man's skin and blood quickly dripped out of the fresh wound. Anthea let out a strangled gasp and was about to run towards Mycroft to help him but she was stopped by her mate's body starting to transform as well. She stepped away from the now two furiously growling wolves and ran upstairs to see if the noise had woken the children and to prevent them from going downstairs if it had.

Sherlock circled around Mycroft with his teeth bared. Mycroft sat down and looked at him with an intense gaze. He wouldn't fight with him, there was no reason and he didn't want to wound him. Now when Sherlock had just finally been revived.

"Tell me! You are hiding something! I can feel it!" Sherlock's voice growled furiously inside Mycroft's head. Mycroft just grumbled at him, but sat still on the floor. He hoped that Sherlock would calm down. Sherlock's ears suddenly pricked and his pupils dilated. He had smelled the scent of his children.

"My children are here and you're not telling it to me?!" Sherlock's enraged voice screamed inside Mycroft's head as the younger werewolf raised himself up to stand on two legs instead of four. Sherlock gave out a deafening roar before he rapidly turned to run to the stairs.

"Sherlock! Stop right there!" Mycroft shouted after him and the smaller werewolf froze right on the spot. Mycroft was finally using his alpha voice even though he hadn't wanted to. He didn't like forcing Sherlock to have to obey just because Sherlock's wolf-mind knew it HAD to defer to his will when he used his alpha authority. He'd much rather use persuasion and reason to get what he wanted from but now was not the time, not when it came to his niece and nephew.

"Turn around and come over here!" Mycroft growled and Sherlock immediately did as his elder brother said.

"I have not been telling you that your children are here because for your own safety and well-being." Mycroft explained and Sherlock snarled at his words.

"How could telling me that my children are here hurt my safety and well-being?! They are my children! And I haven't seen them for five years! I haven't even met Tim! He was ripped out of my belly and then I DIED!" Sherlock roared. White, milky tears of anger and betrayal streaming down his furry cheeks.

"Could you be quiet just for one minute and let me explain?" Mycroft hissed at him. Sherlock immediately quieted down.

"You see, I did not want this to happen to you here and now since I knew how you would react. That is why I wanted you to go to Anderson because you would have taken it better there than here." Mycroft started to explain but he got interrupted by Sherlock opening his mouth.

"No! You keep quiet!" Mycroft growled and Sherlock closed his snout, white tears still streaming down his cheeks. (Werewolves tears are white because they are crying water from the moon when they are in their wolf-form.)

"Yesterday, around midday, your children called me completely panic-stricken because their father was lying on the floor, screaming in pain." Mycroft told his brother. He knew he sounded mean but he was angry at Sherlock because he hadn't listened to him and was now forced to be abrupt. Mycroft raised himself and sat down in front of Sherlock and pushed his forehead on Sherlock's forehead, showing him his memories of yesterday.

"J-John?" Sherlock whispered with a hollow voice. His heart started to ache as he saw the flickering pictures of John lying on the floor in pain before his retina.

"What... what happened to him? What is happening to him? Where is he?" Sherlock asked sheepishly.

"He is dying because the loss of you. A human mate cannot live without the second half of himself that is the werewolf-mate. The second mate that compels him, that makes him whole. You know that, do you not?" Mycroft said, his voice much softer than before.

Sherlock nodded slowly, tears of the moon streaming faster down his cheeks. He slowly reverted back to human, the anger he had felt just minutes ago was gone.

"I do know, it is just that I did not think about it earlier... I mean, I just got back and..." he broke off into silence.

"How can I heal him? How can I make the clock of death stop ticking for him?" he asked when his transformation was complete.

Mycroft turned back to human as well.

"I do not exactly know Sherlock. It is kind of a haze in our history, there exist many ways to make him stop dying, almost too many. Some of them are too dangerous to even speak about. I still think you need to go Anderson. He may have some answers. Otherwise, I do not know, I am afraid." Mycroft said truthfully and Sherlock nodded while wiping his face with some torn pieces of the black dressing gown.

"Do you know where he is now?" Sherlock then asked and looked around the room to see if there was something he could dress himself with. He saw a red quilt and quickly covered his body with it.

"He is at the hospital, naturally they cannot help him with his pain." Mycroft said and scribbled something down on a yellow note. He handed it to Sherlock.
"His room number, the room's telephone number and visit-times." he explained.

Sherlock took the note in his hand.

"I will get me some clothes, then I will go to my children. After I have been with them, I will go to John and after that Anderson." Sherlock said shortly to his brother before going away.

Mycroft went to one of the bathrooms and cleaned his wound.

"I will be getting scar from this..." he thought and sighed deeply while he bathed the wound with water and soap. Another scar to add to his collection...


"Daddy? Is daddy Holmes alive?" Astrid asked Tim with big eyes and a wide open mouth. Tim nodded his dark head.

"Yes. Somehow I can feel it... He is alive..." Tim said and curled close to Astrid.

They had just been woken up by some strange noises from downstairs, though the sounds were pretty dull considering the thick walls around the room. Anthea had entered the room a while ago, though they didn't wake up when she came inside, and was sitting there quietly observing.

"But how? How can you feel that he is alive?" Astrid asked and put her arm around her little brother.

"I don't know, I just do!" Tim said. It was like he could feel his second father coming up the stairs. He did not know how or why, the only thing he knew was that his father was alive.

Suddenly, the two children could hear footsteps walking up the stairs. As soon as Anthea heard the steps she got out of the room. Tim sat up as fast as a pistol-shot on the bed and stared intensively at the door. Astrid looked at him with her head cocked to the side. She was just about to say something to him when the door suddenly opened and a tall, lanky, dark headed man dressed in a very tight buttoned-up shirt and black fine pants stepped into the room. His eyes were the first thing that Astrid recognized. She had seen those eyes before when she was just a baby. Father. Sherlock Holmes. Her father. Astrid screeched out in pure joy before she jumped head over heels off the bed and into Sherlock's arms.

"Father! Daddy! Dad!" Astrid screamed and started crying from joy when her long lost father finally put his arms around her. Tim just stared at the man with awe. He couldn't believe that his father had returned from the dead and that this man in fact was his father. His father that had saved his life in sacrifice of his own.

"I'm here now... I'm here with you... And I will never leave you again..." Sherlock whispered. His voice was thick with overflowing emotions, especially love. It felt like his heart was about to burst in his chest. Astrid buried her face in Sherlock's neck and kept weeping with joy for a while before she stopped and turned around to Tim.

"Come over here and greet your dad." she said softly to her younger brother. She understood that he was a bit scared and stunned, though she really wanted him to greet Sherlock. Tim hesitated for a moment before leaving the bed and slowly making his way to his father. Sherlock looked at him with one of his softest smiles and stretched out his left arm to welcome his son into his embrace. Tim walked to him with shaking legs and finally let his father embrace him. The three hugged for a long time until Tim broke the silence.

"I need to pee..." he said deeply embarrassed and Sherlock almost burst out into laughter.

"Of course you do. Go to the toilet." Sherlock said softly and let him go. Tim hurried to the bathroom.

Astrid looked at Sherlock with admiring, sparkling eyes.

"How did you come back? I thought death was something you never return from." she said with a questionable face. Sherlock smiled at her and stroked her head lovingly.

"I asked Fenrir, all werewolves father if I could return to you and he allowed me to. Though it took some years to convince him..." Sherlock explained quietly while holding his daughter close to his heart.

Astrid shuddered as she listened to her father's life flowing through him; it was something that moved her deeply.

"I'm so happy you're back with us... Daddy has been missing you so..." she murmured and hugged him even tighter.

"I know... I know he has..." Sherlock murmured and drew her sweet smell into his lungs. He would always remember the smell of his daughter. The smell of her made memories of him and John meeting her for the first time back at the werewolf camp flood through his head. His arms were suddenly covered in goosebumps and he hugged his daughter even closer. She was one part of his everything.

"Daddy... Do you know what happened to daddy?" Astrid asked Sherlock, meaning John of course. Sherlock nodded.

"Yes, I do know what happened to him and I will go to him as soon as I have been with you a little more." Sherlock said softly and kissed her forehead.

"May we come with you?" Tim asked very quietly when he suddenly entered the room. Though Sherlock heard him as if he had spoken in normal speak-tone.

"I do not think the doctors would agree on that." Sherlock replied, regretting every word he said but he needed to be alone with his love.

"Why not?" Tim asked with a troubled face and sunk down in Sherlock's lap. Sherlock put his arms around him. Astrid popped up beside Sherlock, holding his hand very tightly.

"Because father needs his peace and quiet. His heart needs to rest you see, and me coming back in full person will be a shock for him and to have you two there with me would just be too much for him." Sherlock explained. He tried to be as honest as possible.

"Okay, we understand Daddy but we'd love to seehim later tonight if the doctors allow that?" Astrid said and looked at Tim whom looked like he had fallen down and scratched his knee badly.

"I will call you as soon as I know. And I will not disappear again. Never." he said and kissed their foreheads and stroked their cheeks.

Astrid nodded, as understanding as ever. Tim let out a small sob though he crawled over to Astrid's lap and curled into a little ball once he had settled himself.

"Do not cry my love, I will come back." Sherlock said softly to Tim and kissed his head. "I promise." he said and Tim nodded slightly.

"You will need to be with your Uncle until I come back, but you do like him, right?" Sherlock said and tried wholeheartedly to not sound cynical, but it was hard since he had some problems with his brother too.

Astrid laughed gently, her laugh sounding very much like John's.

"Of course we like him, don't we Tim?" she said to her brother and he just nodded, smiling a little.

"Good, very good." Sherlock said and gave them a final kiss on their heads before leaving the room and going downstairs.

"I will be going to John now. My children are upstairs. I am sure they want some breakfast." Sherlock said sourly to Mycroft. Mycroft made one of his faces and nodded.

"Yes, master." he said with a snort and Sherlock left the Holmes estate to finally meet up with his Everything.