I'm sorry this has taken me so long, and I'm sorry in advance if I take even longer for the next few. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it, but I'm kind of in my last semester of my bachelor's, so, as you can imagine, I'm drowning a bit under study, and honours applications, and I'm also putting some of my dance students through an exam and putting a huge group of them into a competition - you can imagine how much free time I have at the moment. Don't worry, though, because I promise I'll be back, and hopefully this chapter will help tide you over until then. Thanks again for all your support; you guys are brilliant.

A million thank yous to Becca for being extra brilliant in beta-ing for me. (And, you know, she has a fic called Deducing Daisies that you could definitely check out while you're waiting for my next update.)

Chapter Thirty-Five

John's blood was fascinating.

Sherlock ended up spending hours in St Bart's Hospital, taking advantage of the labs and the equipment there to study the vial of blood that Hannah had let him have. Determining whether or not it would be safe and beneficial if John were to be injected with a small amount of Sherlock's blood was a simple enough test, but while Sherlock was here and while he had some spare time, he could not resist running some extra tests of his own. After all, John would probably spend most of the day sleeping while his body healed. Sherlock would not be missed that much.

John's blood was only subtly different from human blood, which was perhaps in part the reason that Sherlock was so interested in studying it. Looking through a microscope, if you did not know what you were looking for, you might not have realised that John was anything other than human. However, Sherlock knew the smell of it. He also knew the taste of it, which he was rather pointedly not thinking about, especially not while he had a small vial of it in his possession. He knew it was different, and he needed to know how.

So he spent hours. There would always be unanswered questions about John's biology - Bart's did not offer him everything that could be used to study John's blood, and even with access to all the resources he could desire, there was only so much that a small sample of John's blood could tell him. However, that small sample of John's blood could tell him something, and Sherlock wanted to know anything that he could.

By the time he left the hospital, the sun was already sinking below the horizon; he had completely lost track of the time while he was there. He caught a cab back to his brother's house, and he made his way up the driveway with the intention of going straight to John's room to discuss his discoveries, and then finding somewhere to hide away from his brother.

Unfortunately, his brother took away that option, by waiting for him at the front door.

"Hello, brother mine," Mycroft said, pretending not to notice Sherlock's groan. "I do hope you weren't planning on avoiding me for the duration of John's stay here."

"That was the idea."

"Now, now, Sherlock, no need to be childish. Don't forget that I have so kindly opened up my home to your werewolf once again, as well as provided a member of my own personal staff."

"So now I'm eternally in your debt?"

"Of course not. I just think you should show me a little more respect. Mummy would be quite upset with you if she could see you now."

Sherlock met his brother's eyes, purely to shoot him a glare. "I don't know why you insist we need to talk," he said. "I'm certain John has told you everything you need to know about the case."

"Can't I want to have a nice chat with my little brother?"

"You and I don't do nice chats, Mycroft."

"Nor do you normally show such concern about another person, let alone a werewolf. I've never seen you show quite this much... emotion, especially not when it comes to someone else."

"Whatever you're implying..."

"I'm not implying anything. I'm merely observing that you were quite panicked when you contacted me."

"I was not panicked. John was bleeding, so I had to contact you quickly. I was being efficient, nothing more."

"Of course you were. And I suppose you weren't at all bothered by the smell of his blood."

Sherlock met Mycroft's eyes with a cold, steady gaze. "What are you saying, Mycroft?"

"You fed from him."

"Yes, once. Because I had been shot and he lifted a bleeding cut to my lips. I can control myself."

"Can you? Because the last time you fed from a living being, I had to lock you up."

"Oh, please. 'Had to lock me up', like it was some great chore on your part, and not a decision you made because you feel the need to run everyone else's life as well as your own. Excuse me, Mycroft. I have things to do." Sherlock brushed past Mycroft's shoulder as he passed him, and Mycroft did not try to stop him from heading down the hall towards the room where John was staying.

"I'm merely looking out for you, brother," the older vampire said behind him, and Sherlock pointedly ignored him, pushing open the door and stepping into the room.

He could hear John's heartbeat, slow and steady – John was not quite asleep, but he was certainly relaxed, perhaps about to drift off. However, the werewolf turned his head to look over at Sherlock as he stepped through the door, and immediately he looked as though he was wide awake. He shifted, carefully propping up one of the pillows so that he could be more upright while still leaning back against something. Sherlock let the door shut behind him and walked over, taking a seat by the foot of John's bed.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like I've been stabbed in the stomach," John replied. "How'd your experiment go?"

Sherlock's eyes lit up immediately, and he sat up straighter. "Your blood is remarkable, John!" he exclaimed, ready to launch into a complete explanation of every test that he had run and every discovery that he had made. However, he got no further than "at first" when John sighed, and cut him off.

"Sherlock," he interrupted. "I'm tired. Can we just pretend that I don't have a medical degree or any knowledge about blood and cut straight to the chase?"

Sherlock gave him a look that mixed condescending with disappointed. Really, how could John not want to hear about the experiment? This was John's biology that they were talking about; surely the man would be interested. However, rather than arguing about the reasons why John should be interested, he cut his day of experiments down to a brief summary. "In short," he said, emphasising the words so that John would know that he was cutting this down a lot, "you know that your body heals faster than a human's, although the silver slows that down, so the wound itself will take time to heal. However, the silver should only impact the way your body heals on the surface. Essentially, your body produces blood cells faster than a human."

"So, you're basically saying I recover from blood loss faster?"

Sherlock nodded his head. "It seems so. Of course, that wouldn't have been fast enough for you to have not required the transfusion, but it should mean that you'll get your strength back soon. The wound itself will limit what you're capable of doing for a while yet, of course."

"Huh," John said, glancing down at the bandages on his side. "Well, I suppose the universe owed me something good to make up for the whole monthly bloodthirsty monster transformation."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You shift once a month, John; you have three hundred and fifty-two days in a year where you are able to control yourself, with added strength and enhanced senses. I think the universe gave you a good deal."

"Easy for you to say. You get all the physical enhancements, minus the full moon stuff."

"You're forgetting that vampires don't wake up after being turned magically able to handle the bloodlust," Sherlock replied, and he saw something like guilt flicker over John's face.

"Right. Of course. Sorry." The werewolf glanced away for a moment, and then returned his gaze to Sherlock. "So. Your experiment. Did you find out if it was worth trying to... give me some of your blood or whatever?"

"Given the fact that you'll recover quickly thanks to your own system, I don't think it's necessary anymore. I did test to see if my blood was compatible with yours, however, and it seems it is, which comes as no surprise given that I fed from you with no adverse effects. So, should you be in need of a blood transfusion again – in the unlikely event that I cannot prevent that – at least we know that you could use my blood, if nothing else was available. Presuming you only require a small amount, of course."

"And that wouldn't turn me into a vampire?"

"I'm fairly certain that werewolves cannot be turned into vampires, and I'm not willing to test that theory on you. The turning process only works if a human's blood is replaced with a vampire's – so, essentially, they die of blood loss in the process. A small enough amount of blood wouldn't be enough."

"You sure that goes for werewolves as well as humans?"

"There's nothing to suggest otherwise. Regardless, I'm not expecting you to be in this circumstance again any time soon, so you requiring my blood for a transfusion is highly unlikely."

"Well. Good to know in the case of an emergency, anyway."

"My thoughts exactly."

OoO

Hannah insisted that John stay at Mycroft's house for one more night, which did not surprise Sherlock. She also informed him that he was not to bother John, because his body needed sleep in order for him to recover, which also did not surprise Sherlock. What did surprise Sherlock was that Mycroft helped her enforce this suggestion by stationing a member of Mycroft's private security outside John's door, for the entire night, so that Sherlock did not even have the option of disobeying her order.

Sherlock informed his brother that the fact that he distrusted Sherlock so much that he felt it necessary to put a security guard outside a room in his own house was ridiculous, and it was even more ridiculous that the guard was there at all times, with the exception of a few minutes for toilet breaks that directly aligned with the times when Hannah came in to check on John. Mycroft informed Sherlock that the fact that Sherlock monitored the door enough during the night to know that it was never left unguarded was proof that the security guard was necessary after all.

(Really, though, it wasn't like Sherlock would actually stop John from sleeping. He wanted John to recover quickly, which meant allowing John to sleep through the night. The fact that Mycroft put a security guard there was the reason why he kept checking if the door was still being guarded, that was all.)

When morning came, Hannah came in to check on John again, and she did (admittedly with some reluctance) allow Sherlock to come in while she changed his bandages, on the condition that Sherlock stood in the corner and behaved himself. Sherlock considered ignoring her orders because, as far as he was concerned, she had no right to order him about, but then he decided that if he did ignore her he might end up locked out of the room again, so, just this once, it was logical for him to do as he was told. Still, standing in the corner gave him a view of John's wound, which was fascinating from a medical standpoint, and it did give him that little bit more insight into werewolf biology and the way John was healing.

After that, Hannah decided that John was fit to go home. She gave him some extra painkillers, told him that he would need to come back to her in a few days' time so that she could remove his stitches, and that he was to take it easy, to take those few days off work until she could assess whether or not he was fit enough to start working again. Mycroft organised a car to take John home, and Sherlock insisted on coming with him – just so he could check John's bedsit again, of course, to make sure that no one had planted anymore cameras or bugs while John was away. He could help John into his bedsit and make sure that he got in safely – for John's sake, of course.

It certainly wasn't because he was worried about the werewolf. That would be sentimental, and Sherlock was nothing of the sort.