Hello, and welcome back to my fanfiction!

So if you read the prologue, you would know that I am uploading this right after it.

Also you would know that I am planning on updating this every one to two months due to my busy schedule with college homework and my big hero 6 fanfiction; Mistakes.

I also think that this fanfiction is a lot more detailed than Mistakes, but it might just be me.

Reviews are appreciated and will be read.

Thank you Rosycat for telling me that the website screwed up the chapters, look I fixed it!

Chapter 1

Sherlock opened his eyes blearily, observing the bright morning light filtering through his this curtains. It illuminated the dust particles floating in the air, descending gracefully on smooth surfaces. Sherlock yawned while stretching his wings as much as possible in his small room. His light feathers brushed against the walls, but his wings were only half way extended.

He only moved from his space when he heard John shuffling in the kitchen. Sherlock stood, grabbing his robe from the hook on the door. He swiftly folded his wings and pulled them into the slits of his robe. He quietly opened the door and lightly stepped into the kitchen where John was preparing himself breakfast. He was making toast and eggs.

"I wouldn't touch the bread if I were you." Sherlock said behind the shorter man. John jumped, almost dropping the spatula flipping the eggs. He set the offending item down before facing Sherlock.

"Why?" John questioned with frustration clear in his voice. Sherlock noted John's lips, which were tightly pressed together. Sherlock knew this meant John was suppressing his emotions as much as he could.

"Experiment. Testing the absorption of deadly poisons in bread. That one specifically is odorless and colorless. It's quite interesting actually-"

"Not now, Sherlock. How many times have I told you to keep your experiments away from the food?" John sighed in frustration, rubbing his face harshly. Sherlock waited patiently for John to calm down. Sherlock's phone interrupted John from his thoughts as it buzzed on the cluttered table in the dining area.

"It's probably Lestrade." Sherlock moved to answer the cell. It was not Lestrade, but his annoying brother.

-Do try to remember your appointments with the doctors. You are late. - Mycroft

Sherlock frowned, shoving his phone into his robe pocket. John stared at his pocket where the phone disappeared into, slightly confused.

"It was my brother. I try not to answer him, makes him feel like he's in charge." Sherlock answered John's question.

"Well he is your older brother." John commented with disapproval. Sherlock rolled his eyes before moving into his room. He emerged less than five minutes later fully dressed. John's eyes followed his movement from the comfortable chair he sat in. Sherlock ignored his gaze and grabbed his coat from the hook on the wall.

"Where are you going?" John questioned before standing. Sherlock answered over his shoulder, clearly annoyed.

"To answer my annoying brother so I can skip you forcing me to go. Saves time, really." Sherlock went through the open door, leaving no room for argument.

It was several hours before Sherlock came back. He walked straight, though his body burned with exhaustion. Trips to the doctor always entailed being forced through several tests that he couldn't care less about. Most were painless, but a few entailed his feathers to be pulled to be examined. The black feather had to be replaced with a few layers of gauze, as it bled profusely. Mycroft usually had to step out of the room for that part of the examination.

Stepping out of his thoughts, Sherlock pushed the door open. He straightened his back before strolling into the kitchen, observing John speaking with the landlady. They appeared to be engaged in trivial conversation, which Sherlock cared nothing about.

"Ah, boring!" Sherlock shouted, interrupting the thoughts coming out of their simple mouths. John turned to glare at Sherlock, slightly annoyed. Mrs. Hudson glanced between the two before heading towards the front door.

"I think I'll leave you two to sort this domestic by yourselves." She smiled lightly before departing.

"We're not a couple." John called vainly after the small old lady. He focused his attention back on Sherlock. "What was boring to you? You just walked in, you couldn't have possibly be bothered by our conversation." John asked with frustration.

"You two were engaged by a trivial conversation, and you appeared as though you didn't want to speak to her based on how many times you looked at the clock and shifted between your feet. That also indicates that you were impatiently waiting for something, now what could that be?" Sherlock concluded smugly. John gaped at him, flabbergasted.

"You knew that from just standing there for less than five seconds?" John asked, perplexed. Sherlock sighed before speaking.

"You would be able to too if you had been trained in observation and deducting as I have. Now what were you waiting for?" Sherlock demanded.

"You." John replied, his fists tightening by his side. Sherlock lost his smug attitude immediately, afraid of upsetting John further.

"I did tell you where I was going so there wasn't any reason to worry." Sherlock carefully reminded John. To Sherlock's dismay, John was just angered more by the tall detective's attempt to reassure him.

"No reason to worry Sherlock? I should have every reason to worry when you say you are going to your brother Sherlock. You and I both know you never go to your brother willingly. You would rather face your boredom than relieve it with a case he offers, so give me one reason why I shouldn't worry Sherlock!" John ranted with a dangerously low tone. Sherlock was impressed by his tirade, but he would never show it.

"If you insist, I was at a doctor's appointment. I have one every month." Sherlock reluctantly explained. John's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Why would you need to go to the doctor every month?" He paused, thinking. "Are you okay?" He asked, concerned. Sherlock sighed.

"No John. Just something from my childhood, that is all." He murmured before trudging into his room. He shut the door lightly, locking it behind him.

John knew that something was wrong. Last night after their argument, Sherlock had dragged himself into his room in a very slow pace. It was as though he was in pain. In the morning he had slept in and when he finally came out of his room, he was stiff. He didn't touch his back to the chair. John just hoped that it wasn't too serious.

He was sure that Sherlock had no clue that he was watching him. When he thought John wasn't looking, he would have a small grimace on his face. John had noticed how the detective hadn't even touched the smooth surface of his violin. Sherlock would usually play it in the mornings when he knew John was up.

Yes, something was definitely wrong with Sherlock and he was going to find out.

Tell me if I made any mistakes, I don't know if I did or not.

I am going to assume that I didn't because I already read over this chapter about 4 or 5 times. Either way I would love to know if I did make any mistakes.

Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it. Sorry if it takes me a little while to update, but I do promise not to abandon it! I never abandon my stories, and I don't plan on starting that.