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Chapter 12
John's POV
The following day came early it seemed to the tired alpha as he stretched and got out of bed. He had not had a very good night's sleep because he had been fretting about his potential bondmate who's mind seemed to be in overload. Which due to the pack link he could feel, even though he was sure that Sherlock had not linked in with anyone else. Focusing on the pack, he allowed his thoughts to clear and checked on each member. Most of them were fine, they were startled by how the previous night had gone but had accepted as is. Nearly all the adults had noticed his wrist and the spiral bondmark on it though none of them had commented. Those of his team and his sister knew who the bondmark was in relation to but they weren't saying a thing. He pays particular care to the link between himself and Thomas, first to see if it is still there, yep; then to see how the defeated wolf feels, upset but clear headed, not holding a grudge. Good. He would have to check with Jacob later to see what his beta had assigned for a punishment.

Grabbing his things, he heads into the shower to get cleaned up. While there he delicately reaches out on the pack link to check on his dark-haired human, who's mind is still buzzing like there is no tomorrow. From what he can tell he had never gotten to sleep. Sighing, he finishes washing up before dressing and heading into the kitchen in order to make tea for himself and coffee for Sherlock since that is what he noticed him drinking the previous morning.

"Morning Sherlock," he greets the tall human as he sets the cup down on the coffee table in front of the sofa near his head before retreating to his chair.

Sherlock is stretched out much like he had been when considering whether to text the cabbie or not just a few days prior.

He is not surprised by the lack of communication from the taller man, he is probably still processing. Perhaps it would be a good idea to invite Eric over, those two should hit it off rather well. Both of them are far more intelligent than him, though in different ways. Grabbing his phone he sends of a text message.

-Tech, would you mind coming over for a bit? I think Sherlock might need someone who understands him a bit better to explain things when he starts questioning.- JW

-Of course. What about Mouse?- Tech

-You're not taking her place.- JW

-Good. I don't have the tolerance to.- Tech

-Mouse, you can stop by to make plans as to when lessons start if you have not already.- JW

-Okay! Cya soon. –Mouse

Through all the texting Sherlock doesn't move an inch, nor does he move when he goes to answer the door and let Eric in. However he does move when the cobra eyes him for a moment before taking a seat in the second arm chair. It's a little motion, just a tilt of his head, but its something.

Most of the day after that goes silently, with the two genius doing whatever it is genius do while he works on settling in his meager possessions into his room. It is shortly before dinner time when Eric pipes up with, "Umbrella boy is coming to visit," which seems to pull Sherlock out of his mind because he glances over at him, shocked.

"Umbrella boy?" he repeats slowly, shifting into a seated position to look over at him.

The cobra ignores him, still typing away at his computer, in his chair John is doing the same thing, but he is watching the interactions closely. He had already determined that his mate needed acceptance and praise that was not a hard one to get when his scent always filled with pleasure when he got it. It was not hard to give either because he was bloody brilliant. He also figured that he needed mental companionship, someone who could keep up with him, and that was something that John was certain that Eric could do.

"Your elder brother," Eric eventually replies as he gets to his feet, "I'll be on the roof," he tells the room at large before vanishing to the roof top.

"How does he know?" Sherlock inquires, glancing over at him.

He shrugs, "Probably the same way he does anything, hacked the system. He gets bored easily."

The dark-haired human stares at him when he says that seemingly shocked.

Smiling, he takes his seat in the chair he had claimed as his, happy that the cobra had not touched it. "You're unique, amazing, and resourceful, but I got the impression you have very few people if any that can keep up. I know that my mind doesn't move nearly as fast as yours. However Eric, well that cobra thinks far too fast and recalls way too much sometimes. Perhaps you can find a friend in that, someone who will keep easily," he shrugs a bit self consciously, "well if not there was no harm in meeting anyways."

At that point he falls silent, the scent of Mycroft reaching before the actual person who is actually climbing the stairs right now.

"Good evening, Doctor Watson, Sherlock. I would like a word with you." his glance flickers to him, "In private."

Smiling briefly, John gets to his feet before heading outside for a bit.

oOo

Sherlock's POV
The previous night had been too much for him in such a short period of time. Since Cyanne had made sure he made it back inside, he had been lost in his Mind Palace sorting out all of the new information that he had gotten. An entire wing had been added to the palace for John in the last few days, and now another wing had appeared this one for his new pack.

Pack. He was part of a pack, human him was part of a mostly wolf pack. For the most part they had seemed to welcome him. Only that small group had tried to judge him and then it wasn't really him that they had a problem with, it was humans. Perhaps later when he was being more himself around them they would judge him. Perhaps it would go all horribly wrong. After all things rarely went right for him, his mind worked too fast, noticed too much, made people way too uncomfortable, yet….yet that girl had seemed relaxed in his presence. She had said he was gifted. That boy with the laptop, his eyes had seemed vaguely familiar, had he not been in over load he might have realized that his expression was much like his when he was figuring out puzzles.

As he gets the information straight in his head, he is able to figure out the life stories of each of the pack members he met. Or at least most of it. However he feels like he had missed some important details because not a one of them seemed to be having an affair or cheating on their significant other, how was that even possible for a group of that size? Then there was the fact there was a lot of single ones in the group who did not seem to be having any sort of affair at all and that was really just weird. Perhaps it had to do with them being shifters? He really did need to learn as much as possible about their customs, particularly since he had been invited into the fold.

Shifters, he thought to himself. John's form was that of a giant golden-blonde wolf the same shade as his hair. Yet he could still clearly see every single line and inch in his mind. He had been huge, bigger than any sort of wolf he had ever heard of, standing as tall as himself despite the fact that wolves were normally small, not even reaching his waistline. His wolf form was gorgeous, he thought, perfectly shaped and proportioned, the sunburst discoloring on the wolves shoulder probably lined up with the scarring on his human shoulder. Still he can only hope that he will get a chance to study John's wolf form a bit more in the future.

At some point the smell of fresh coffee catches his attention, drawing him momentarily out of his Mind Palace to discover John has freshly bathed and placed a cup of hot, fresh coffee near him as he murmurs his morning greetings. As John takes a spot in the seat that he is quickly thinking of as his, Sherlock allows himself to fall back into his Mind Palace and doesn't come out of it again until he feels a cool presence entering the room.

This time when he emerges he is startled to see the kid from the previous night lounging in the second armchair, laptop resting on his legs as he types but never says a word.

Silently he studies the teenager trying to figure out what all is familiar about him besides the fact he seems to be lost in thought. He's a slender young man, straight black hair, scale patterning down the side of his neck and jaw that he once would have thought was a tattoo but now realizes are his natural scales, light yellow eyes barely leave his screen as he keeps going in a too pale of face when compared to the obsidian scales. This boy was trouble, he realized, the kind of trouble that took great pleasure in it as well.

Eventually he mutters, "Umbrella boy is coming to visit," as he continues to type away at his laptop as if it is the most natural thing in the world to make announcements like that.

Umbrella boy? He repeats to himself, none of the members of the pack that he had meet the previous night had an umbrella, so who is he talking about. "Umbrella boy?" he repeats out loud, frustrated that he could not figure it out.

The teen ignores him for a bit before finally commenting, "Your elder brother," he pauses momentarily, shifting his stance and moving with a liquid grace that he almost envies, "I'll be on the roof."

Glancing over at John he questions, "How does he know?" It is so weird to not know with just a look. How was the boy doing that?

His short flatmate just shrugs answering, "Probably the same way he does anything, hacked the system. He gets bored easily."

He can't help but stare. Mycroft has some of the best in the world to make sure the computers are safe, that they cannot be hacked and here is his flatmate of not even a week, his new alpha in the pack he had been accepted into telling him that that teenager was better than the best. It is discerning really.

John smiles at him as he perches in what Sherlock sees as his seat again as he remarks, "You're unique, amazing, and resourceful, but I got the impression you have very few people if any that can keep up. I know that my mind doesn't move nearly as fast as yours. However Eric, well that cobra thinks far too fast and recalls way too much sometimes. Perhaps you can find a friend in that, someone who will keep easily," he shrugs looking a bit self consciously, "well if not there was no harm in meeting anyways."

Moments after the golden wolf comments he hears the front door shift open and the familiar sound of his brother climbing the steps. It is very unusual for Mycroft to actually visit in person. He prefers to send a small team to kidnap him and meet at his leisure no matter what he was doing prior. A few seconds later the his elder brother comes striding in as if he owns the place, his sharp eyes taking everything in the room in.

"Good evening, Doctor Watson," he drawls in that tone that never fails to annoy, "Sherlock. I would like a word with you." his glance flickers to John, "In private."

Smiling briefly, his flatmate gets to his feet before heading outside for a bit without saying anything.

Sighing, he shifts from his sprawled out laying down to sitting upright. He is shocked to see that John had changed out his coffee for a fresh one at some point so the one he has tastes far better than expected.

"What do you want Mycroft?" he just about snaps at his brother, he really would rather be in his head right now, working his way through the details that he had collected the night before.

"What happened here last night Sherlock? All of our camera's that can see this place and two blocks around it went offline and when they came back on it seemed to be on some type of loop. Yet every time I sent a team they reported that there was no one here or they turned back before reaching here." His very frustrating older brother comments. "I do not like the idea that you're playing with the CCTV's."

He smiles, smirking really as he considers Eric and Daria and apparently whatever they had done had really angered his brother because it was out of his control. That was wonderful, even if there was not another perk to this pack thing, that alone would make it well worth it.

"I don't know what you're talking about Mycroft. John had some family over, apparently they felt he needed a flat warming party. It was nothing special and there were far too many of them." He informs his brother loftily, internally gloating I know something that you really wish you knew.

"Sherlock," Mycroft grumbles warningly.

He smiles again, "If you will excuse me, I have mental house cleaning to do." With that he refocuses on his mind, falling back into his Mind Palace to keep going over the details of the previous night.

He does not hear it as Mycroft leaves, nor as John and Eric come back, he barely notices when he gets a text message, and just about forgets everything else in his single minded focus to recall and understand as much as possible.

Mouse had said that if he had any questions to get a hold of her, it was her task to help teach him the customs though she had not said how to get a hold of her. He was ecstatic when shortly after he smells John making dinner the chipper voice of the small female cuts through his mind. Sitting up and stretching after being still for so long he takes in everything around him to see how things may have changed in the forty-eight hours.

The teenager is back in the second armchair, while the mouse is in the kitchen speaking with John as he cooks.

"Cyanne," his voice cuts through the room, surprising her since she hadn't noticed that he moved, "You said you were to teach me about the pact. We begin now."

She smiles at him replying, "Right after dinner, and you should eat too, your far too skinny, how do you expect to find a proper mate if you are a bag of bones?"

He blinks shocked for a moment before answering, "Why would I want a mate? I'm married to my work."

She shrugs answering, "For now, but I think you're like a great cat, you have your passions and eventually your needs will assert themselves, now come eat, Elder John is an excellent cook." She pauses looking over at the teenager, "You too cobra."

For such a small thing she is bossy, he considers arguing but decides not to, he wants the information she has and he has a feeling that arguing with her will make it harder to get.