Hi guys! So, onwards to 2015. This story may be a bit delayed because MBC (formerly MJCF) has to wade my way through old emails to find some bits that are currently missing. She should hopefully be able to fill in the gaps and upload another chapter soon (though I'm not sure how soon is soon given both our busy schedules). Comments are always appreciated.

Please note, if you're new to this story, that we are sadists and although this story does have its happy moments, there are plenty of sad times ahead too.

Warnings for this chapter: Cutting, depressed!angel Sherlock, and suicidal thoughts.

Sherlock stopped moving when he was certain no one would be able to find him. His chest was heaving heavily and his stomach was cramping badly. Yeh, probably not a very good idea to run whilst pregnant. He spotted a hole in the brick wall of the alleyway that he was currently in and quickly clambered in to it, just in time too as it had started raining. By the looks of things it looked like it was going to storm quite badly too, the black clouds in the sky almost suffocating him with their intensity.

He shivered as the ran began to pour down heavily, a gust of cold wind blowing into his hiding place. He wished that he had wings so that he could keep himself warm. His back twinged slightly with a faint phantom pain, a reminder that he no longer had wings and he'd never feel the warmth of his own feathers curling around him ever again.

He closed his eyes, whimpering and whining as he pined after his old life with his lover and with a son that looked up to him and didn't hate him with a passion.

Despite the heavy rain, Mycroft refused to give up in his search. Sherlock was out there somewhere and he wasn't going to leave him alone in the rain. He took refuge under a shop's awning and closed his eyes, searching for his brother. But the bond was blocked.

'You honestly think that will stop me?' He mumbled aloud. 'I'm older and more powerful than you, dear brother.' He repaired the bond easily and found out where Sherlock was hiding. He grabbed an umbrella from a vendor and went out to search for his brother, finding him in an actual hole in the wall, shivering and freezing cold. Mycroft picked him up and wrapped his wings around him, covering him in the soft warmth of his feathers.

'Let's get you home,' he whispered softly, transporting them both to Sherlock's bedroom. He removed his sopping wet clothes and helped his little brother into bed, wrapping the covers around him snugly.

'Get some rest, Sherlock,' he whispered, placing a soft kiss to his temple. 'I'll be back to check on you later.'

Sherlock waited until his brother was gone before rolling out of bed, padding to the bathroom. His whole body was shaking fiercely and his breathing was harsh and painful. He eyed the box of blades that he knew his brother kept hidden on top of the cabinet behind a bunch of beauty products.

Vain bastard, Sherlock sneered.

He knocked the bottles off the cabinet and grabbed a blade from the box. He held it between two fingers, eyeing it carefully before bringing it down on his pale flesh, slicing long and deep cuts into his flesh. The blood pumped from his veins as a red waterfall.

Mycroft found Gregory and the kids in the kitchen, David in the sitting room watching TV. He took a seat next to Sky and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, ruffling her hair slightly.

'Hey,' she pouted, trying to fix her hair. 'You ok, Papa? You look sad.'

'I'm fine,' Mycroft told her gently, hauling her up onto his lap. 'Better now that you guys are all here. What's on the menu, Gregory?'

'Pasta bake with chicken and bacon,' Greg answered, sprinkling some cheese on top of the pasta dish he'd prepared. 'It's just gotta cook for twenty minutes and then we can eat.'

'Sounds good,' Mycroft grinned. 'What shall we do whilst we wait?'

'Well, you can explain about the hobo you brought home who you insist is your dead brother, and Sher's namesake.' The little boy who'd named himself after his uncle blinked up at Mycroft and Rupert rubbed his shoulder gently.

'OK,' Mycroft sighed. 'Everyone to the sitting room. I've got a story to tell.'

As Sherlock cut into his flesh more insistently he could feel a nearing presence of another angel. He ignored it however. Whoever was watching him now was going to witness his suicide and the murder of two beautiful baby angels. He was almost certain it was Michael and that only made his cuts more vicious. Tears welled in his eyes as he collapsed onto the ground with a scream. Why was he so fucked up?

Michael entered Sherlock's room in a flurry, feeling his daughters' panic as their host became agitated and began hurting himself. He almost screamed when he saw Sherlock laying in a bloody heap on the floor. He knelt down and ran his hands over the deep cuts in Sherlock's arms, thighs, and neck. He smoothed a hand over Sherlock's belly, calming the girls down and lulling them to sleep. He picked Sherlock up and carried him into bed, curling up against him and wrapping his wings around him protectively.

...::-::...

When Sherlock awoke he felt warm and safe. He snuggled up against the warmth and hummed. He could hear hushed voices. One of them definitely belonged to Michael. The other sounded a lot like David... what on Earth? What had led Michael here and why was the son that supposedly hated him talking to Michael?

Then the image of blood pooling from thick cuts in his skin flashed in his mind and he instantly panicked. Michael would be angry at him. He was even more likely to hurt David now! So what were Michael and David doing talking like old chums?

'I know of your parentage, David,' Michael said softly. 'But at this point in time I couldn't care less that you're half human. It's your angel side I care about. And you're a very strong angel.'

'Thanks?' David said, the question heavy in his response. 'So... You're my dad's new lover?'

'It would appear so, yes,' Michael said gently. 'He's carrying my first ever children, and I would appreciate it if you could watch over him when I can't. He's still your dad, even if he's come back from the dead. His love for you hasn't changed. So please be kind to him. He needs you right now.'

David took in a deep breath and nodded. 'OK.'

Sherlock cracked an eye open and stared at David sorrowfully before turning to Michael. 'You're not going to kill my boy?' he asked in a small voice.

'No,' Michael said softly. 'So long as you don't threaten the lives of my daughters again, your boy will be safe.'

'I'm sorry, Michael,' Sherlock apologised, thick tears building in his eyes. 'I just... I wish I was dead.'

'Don't you ever say that!' Michael growled menacingly. 'Now, I know you went to visit your human, and I know what happened. If he remembers there could be drastic consequences. Death the most practical option.'

'Then make it stop!' Sherlock wailed. 'Make me forget him! Because I loved that bloody idiot so much, Mike. He was the father of my child.' He pointed to David. 'And he was the love of my life. And I can't stop pining after him so just erase him from my fucking memory! Or better yet, wait till your offspring have been born and kill me!'

'I'm afraid neither option is feasible,' Michael growled.

'Please, Michael,' Sherlock begged, tears streaming down his cheekbones. 'I'm in so much pain. Just make it stop.'

'I can't ease the type of pain you're in,' Michael stated sadly. 'Angels can't fix emotional pain. And I won't kill you or wipe your memory. And I shall advise your son and brother not to as well, should they want to be reported to the High Council for illicit activities with humans.' He looked at David and frowned. 'And an illegal existence as well.'

David growled, his feathers rustling in agitation. 'If you weren't such an uppity angel I'd sock you.'

'If you value your life then you won't,' Michael countered.

'Then what do I do?' Sherlock whispered, sniffling loudly. 'These thoughts... of killing myself... they aren't going anywhere anytime soon. And I can't die again, Michael. I can't leave my family again.' He glanced up at David. 'No matter how much they resent me, I can't do it to them. I just can't.'

'You seek council,' Michael said softly. 'Find someone who you trust, who you can talk to. Though it is ill advised, perhaps your human could be of some help. Or his mother. I know she was particularly fond of you. Especially after you "fixed" her husband.'

Sherlock blushed and cleared his throat awkwardly. 'I know we're not meant to fuc– to alter human personalities, but he was a threat to John and I was merely trying to protect him and do my job.'

'You did an excellent job with him though,' Michael assured him softly. 'He's a wonderful human. And your child with him isn't all that bad either.' He smiled over at David. 'Though I disapprove of your choice of dress.'

David scowled and looked at his completely black ensemble. 'You'd have issues too if you watched your father die and the other one forget you existed. This is my armour.'

'Are you forgetting what I used to wear?' Sherlock joked, trying to lighten the mood. 'I was worse than David. Much worse. But then I did see my father– never mind.' He shook his head and blinked back a fresh set of tears. 'I'm not going to go there.'

'Yes. Let's not go there,' Michael agreed.

Sherlock sighed sleepily and nodded, thankful that Michael allowed it be. He really didn't want to dig up his past in any shape or form. 'Maybe I should get some more sleep. I'm exhausted.'

'Sure. Do you want me to stay? Or do you want to spend some time with David?'

Sherlock shrugged slightly. 'That would depend on David.'

'I... I guess I could stay,' David said quietly.

'Then that settles it,' Michael smiled. He pressed a kiss to Sherlock's forehead and clambered out of the bed, clapping David on the shoulder. 'Watch after your dad while I'm gone. And try not to be so angry. He was gone but now he's back. Do try to spend some time with him now that he's here.'

'Ok,' David said softly.

'Good. Sherlock, I'll be back to check on the twins' progress in about a month's time. Do take care of yourself and them. And for goodness sake, eat something! You're still skin and bone.'

Sherlock nodded and curled in on himself, his arms wrapped around his stomach. He shivered at the sudden loss of warmth and glanced up at David with soft eyes. David cleared his throat and slid off his shoes and jacket before climbing into bed with his dad. He wrapped his wings around him protectively and rested his forehead against Sherlock's shoulder blades. Michael pulled the blankets up to cover Sherlock's stomach and smiled softly before disappearing.

Hello, everyone! Apologies for the long delay between updates. I've been trying to focus on my schoolwork so I could raise my GPA so I could apply for studying abroad! I've begun the application process but won't hear of my acceptance (or rejection *sob sob) until mid-March. Wish me luck!

I also hope to continue to update this story, as well as Second Star, on a semi-regular basis. Given our busy schedules, we may not be able to update as often as we would like, but I hope to update at least twice a month. We'll do our best to stick to that, but it depends on what's going on in our lives at that time on whether or not we'll be able to update. But we'll try our best to update when we can.

~TSA