Four: Leave Me Alone
Sherlock was right, this was boring. Just sitting in an office with Sherlock filling out papers and talking to Lestrade about the current 'unsolved' case. Lestrade wanted details as Sherlock gave all he could without revealing too much. Lestrade had admitted that this was puzzling.
Sherlock finished the last thing as Aveen perked up when she saw them being handed to Lestrade. Lestrade had said her mother didn't even want to be taken to court, she just let Aveen go without a second thought. Figures, she's only twenty something and didn't want the child in the first place.
God, Sherlock hated horrible parents. Which was why he was going to try and not be like her mother. Well, she's not her mum anymore, now Aveen was Sherlock's. He didn't regret what had been done, he regretted his future with raising her. He really wanted to be a good father, but he wondered how this was going to work.
John would definitely be a good parent, but it was himself that worried him. Sherlock waved her from the seat as she skipped after him, "So I can stay?" she asked in confirmation.
Sherlock nodded, "Yes," he replied.
"Never going back to mummy?" she asked.
"Never," he wanted to add, 'I won't let you,' but that would sound weird. She grinned and nodded as she settled and her shoes squeaked as she walked.
Sherlock took her to get ice cream, promising it wouldn't be boring and he took her to the park afterwards. He needed fresh air anyway, and John wouldn't get home until about five tonight. He hated that job, but the money was nice, so Sherlock just let it go.
Aveen got along well with the kids at the park, something that never happened with Sherlock. Although, she did hang around the boys a lot. They liked her, but she only saw friends. The other four girls just gathered in a group and envied her.
Reminds Sherlock of high school all over again. God, these kids are so different from when Sherlock was younger. When he was her age, he was alone because he avoided people. But he studied them, and usually they split into two groups: the weird ones and the preppy assholes. But at least they weren't like this.
His attention was brought back to Aveen as she was getting ready to punch this one little blond kid, Sherlock could see it in her eyes, she was pissed. "Okay," he pulled her from the blond little git who was little shorter than her. He made her sit on the bench he had been sitting on, "What'd he say?" knowing he had said something.
"He said I couldn't play football because I'm a girl," she complained. Ah, one of those kids. Now, Sherlock had regretted pulling her from the group. Sherlock would have punched the kid, too.
"Do you know how to play?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes!" she shouted as another parent looked over to them in curiosity.
"Well, tell them that, and if they won't let you play, I'll buy you a football and we can play," he promised as she popped up. She hugged her thanks to him as she skipped off to give this kid a piece of her mind.
A woman settled on the bench beside Sherlock, "Hi," she greeted. Sherlock nodded in response. She persisted, "Your little girl is adorable," she complimented. Sherlock shrugged as he saw that Aveen finally got her way, and she was good at football.
The woman didn't leave, "I'm Jade," she held her hand out. Sherlock took it, stating his name and she instantly blushed. "Never thought I'd get to meet you." Again, Sherlock shrugged, watching Aveen show off. She recognized him from the start, it was why she sat here in the first place.
Jade kept up with the one sided conversation, "Sorry about my boy, "She apologized. "His father is extremely sexist and I guess it's rubbed off," she explained.
"Dead?" Sherlock guessed as she nodded, going on about things Sherlock didn't care to hear. He blocked out her annoyance and just watched Aveen play and prove this woman's boy to be an idiot. Sherlock definitely was keeping her. now he had two people he cared about more than anything. Ugh, stupid sentiment.
Jade suddenly fell silent as Sherlock just watched Aveen pant her way to the water fountain, her face red and she gulped helplessly. Sherlock smiled as he finally looked to the woman beside him. Blond, green eyes and not much to her, she had curves, but other than that, she wasn't really attractive. Not ugly, just not interesting.
She removed her ring a few months ago, due to her husband dying. She was glad he was dead, did she do it? There was no way to tell now. But she was definitely still stressed, even with the husband not around to shout at her for not doing something 'right'. She mumbled something about things and tasty as she collected her son and was gone.
Sherlock shrugged it off, thinking she meant food, seeing as she took her son right after she walked away. Aveen was still breathing heavily as she sat by Sherlock again, "Nasty woman," she commented, "Her son, too," she added as she put her head in Sherlock's lap. Her vocabulary is amazing for her age. Sherlock would have to ask about that later.
He stroked the hair from her forehead, it soaked from the water she poured over herself, "What makes you think that?" he asked.
She shrugged, "Dunno. Just have a feeling, especially with the way she was looking at you," she commented. So that was what she was getting at. Jade was looking at him as if he was a meal to eat. But Sherlock wasn't up for the taking.
This brought up the question Sherlock had been honestly, unintentionally avoiding for a while: was he with John? Were they together or just… awkward friends? Sherlock decided he would say they were together. They had all the qualities of lovers, after all.
They slept together, they kissed, they shagged, John cooks for Sherlock sometimes, trying to get him to friggin' eat, they even had a kid. Yeah, they fit the bill. Sherlock smiled as he continued petting Aveen's raven hair and she settled, napping while Sherlock let the time slip by.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
She stirred as Sherlock shook her shoulder gently, "It's time to go home," he smiled as she sat up, stretching. She didn't really feel like walking, so she held her arms out and Sherlock rolled his eyes, getting what she was going for.
But he scooped her up and placed her on his hip as he walked back to the sidewalk where he hailed a cab fairly quickly actually. Apparently having a kid helps. Whatever, he slid in as she settled on the seat beside him.
She cuddled into his chest as he awkwardly sat there, just letting her. He had no objections, but it's not like he loves it that she's so clingy. But her mother was an ignorant bitch so that probably has something to do with it. No, that definitely has something to do with it.
Sherlock hated this woman, and he never even met her! But he knew that if he ever had, she would probably be disgusting as a person. He pulled Aveen from the cab as he found John standing in front of the door, fumbling with something in his pocket.
When John heard the car door slam shut, he looked behind him and slipped, what was apparently his mobile, into his pocket again. He was surprised to see Sherlock with a kid on his hip, but he just adjusted her so she didn't slip and opened the door as she slid from him and ran up the stairs.
Sherlock and John followed as John was still questioning why Sherlock had taken Aveen anywhere. "Sherlock," he started. Sherlock shushed him as he faced the soldier.
"Don't, Aveen will tell you what we've been out today for. It's her story to tell anyway," he admitted as John wandered into the kitchen where Aveen was looking through the fridge and found what she was looking for.
She pulled out the milk and was about to just chug it, and remembered that she wasn't the only one drinking out of it. But she couldn't reach the cupboard either. John pulled a cup down as he didn't ask about the day yet, but he definitely curious.
He did really wonder though, as she chugged the milk. The glass was empty when John moved the milk back to the fridge, "So, Sherlock tells me you have a story for me?" he asked as he sat opposite her at the kitchen table.
Sherlock listened to her version of the story of how they went to the Yard, then got ice cream, and went to the park where the kid wouldn't let her play, and then the woman who was practically drooling on Sherlock.
But John questioned why they went to the Yard. Did Sherlock finally give a statement about the case? What did he decide to do? He asked Sherlock these questions as Aveen sat awkwardly at the table, straining to listen to their quiet conversation in the living room.
She swung her feet in interest when John's voice was full of surprise. He wasn't angry that Sherlock had adopted Aveen as their own, but he was definitely surprised. "Lestrade suggested it, and she already practically lived here, so I figured-"
He was cut short by John's kisses "God," kiss, "Sherlock, you," kiss, "Are amazing," he complimented and then realized that Aveen was still in the kitchen, wondering why they were doing this. She just started humming when John smiled at her, and she rested her head on her forearms on the table. She wasn't tired, just bored.
John decided he was making dinner again tonight and made Sherlock sit down with them to eat it, too. He had complained at first, but John was making spaghetti, and it was apparently, Sherlock's favorite.
Aveen finished first, loving John's cooking much more than her mum's. "Mummy never had time to make food. She was too busy being out," she swallowed the last bite and Sherlock was angry at that comment, but then it faded and he smiled through the noodles, which was funny, John had to admit.
John finished last, not really hungry, just bored, and wanting something to do before they went to bed. But Aveen hopped from the table, and grabbed the remote from Sherlock's chair in the living room and flipped on the telly.
She relaxed on the couch as John joined her, dragging Sherlock with him. They settled on the couch, Sherlock half sitting on John while Aveen was laying with her feet to her bum and her head on the arm of the couch, as Sherlock does sometimes.
Sherlock gave up on cuddling and one foot went beside Aveen head, and the other hung off the edge of the couch as his head rested in John's lap.
As the night crept up onto the daylight, the clock was hitting eleven and Aveen fell asleep, and Sherlock almost had, but he was kept awake by John's fingers through his curls. He didn't want to sleep, exactly. He just wanted to relax.
So, John carried Aveen back to bed as Sherlock changed into PJs, and he plopped down in bed as he watched John do the same. Sherlock yawned and his head hit the pillows as John slid in under the covers with Sherlock.
John cuddled into Sherlock as they both fell asleep, exhausted by the day's drawn out boring tone. A lot had happened, but it wasn't the best day ever, just different.
The next morning, John woke to Sherlock already awake, "I have a case," he explained, "And I need you to watch Aveen, I can't."
He lazily put strokes to John's chest as he practically begged, "I can't take her to work, Sherlock," he pointed out.
Sherlock shrugged, "Why not?" John rolled his eyes as he kissed the idiot and sat up. He mumbled a whatever as he slipped out of bed, rummaging through his clothes to find some to wear.
"What's this case about anyway?"John asked.
"Things," Sherlock said, standing beside his lover as trousers were slipped on. John gave him a look that said he'd better explain now. Sherlock sighed, "I'm visiting someone," he admitted, "and I'd rather not have Aveen there," he further explained.
"Who?" John asked, buttoning a striped flannel.
"A person, look, it doesn't matter," John shot him another glare as socks were pulled over his toes. "I won't die, so I'll be fine. Don't worry about it. Besides, I'll tell you later. Right now, you need to go," he pointed to the clock and John had five minutes to get out the door and still be on time.
Aveen was already awake, and dressed and wondering why she was going with John, but he explained that Sherlock had a case, and she had to hang with John today. She simply smiled and complied. John took another glance at the clock on the stove in the kitchen. Two minutes, Watson…
He swore under his breath and gave Sherlock a quick kiss before he was rushing to get out the door and Sherlock followed all the way down the stairs, "Oh, John," he said as the door was opened. He pulled him for another kiss then said, "Have a good day," and ushered Aveen and his frazzled doctor out the door.
John hailed a cab as Aveen waited patiently and inside, Sherlock climbed the stairs to get dressed. He was visiting an old friend, that he stuck his neck out for, and he was having a good long talk with her…
Sherlock received a reply from the text he sent to who he was to visit. She gave him an address, which obviously wasn't where she was staying, because it was an alley about four blocks from his flat. He decided to walk, seeing as it would do him good and it would be weird to give such an address to a cabbie.
So he walked, in the sun, with a black shirt and jeans that didn't help with keeping away the heat. He walked, with his hands in his pockets and his head in the clouds, just thinking about the things he would tell her. The things he would chastise her about, and tell her she could have done very differently.
And he would tell her just how much he had risked getting her to a safe place. And how much she was risking just with the actions she's taken lately. He thought back to John and how he would react if Sherlock had told him just how much danger he was putting himself into.
He rounded a corner cautiously as he peaked around and there she stood, shadows covering her face, but Sherlock could see the twinkling blond hair that defined Mary as herself. The curves that stood out as she walked up to him.
She had been crying recently, but not as much as before. But what was she crying about now? John? Something she had done? Did she murder another one? Sherlock's questions flew through his head as he bit his tongue, making sure he didn't ask a one.
Mary gripped his shoulders in her arms in a hug that Sherlock didn't return. Sherlock was about to grill her on the many things he had thought about on the way over here, but he was stopped short by her saying, "Thank you, I know what you're risking even coming here now, let alone all you've done to keep my baby and I safe," she sniffled and smiled sadly.
"Why did you kill someone innocent? Why not someone who deserved it? Or who didn't have family?" he asked, the cold creeping into his voice and it chilled her, even with the heat of the day.
She bowed her head, "I wasn't thinking," her hair dropped over her eyes as she swept it back again, tucking it behind her ear as Sherlock noticed her pin was gone. But Sherlock gave her a look that said, yeah, you weren't thinking and now look? "But I was craving it, and even now, as we stand here, I can hear your pulse, begging me to rip your throat open," her sad voice faded into one Sherlock didn't recognize.
She looked up at him, hungry, and not for food or kisses. He saw her fangs descend and her pupils dilated slightly as she stepped closer. He didn't move, he didn't even flinch, knowing she wouldn't give in. She stepped closer, wondering why he wasn't moving, but she was still hungry.
The green in her eyes was almost gone to pupils as she stepped so close she was breathing on his chest as she looked up, yearning, begging, needing. He tilted his head to the side just a bit to show his vulnerability and her tongue flicked across her lips.
She wanted to, she could see the blood run and his veins pop from his skin, but it was Sherlock. She couldn't hurt him, even if she wanted to. Could she? She elevated herself slightly on her toes as he just stood, watching her try to contain herself.
He was right there, so vulnerable, so ready. But something flooded through her, and she saw him for who he was, not as her next meal. It was Sherlock, unafraid, loving, and sometimes an arse, but it was Sherlock, not just another bag of blood.
She backed away, she couldn't. The green returned to her eyes and she let her hair hide the tears welling again. Her fangs slowly retracted and she stood in utter disbelief in herself. She was about to hurt her ex's lover because she was simply hungry and bored.
She used to be so good at containing her hunger, so what was so different now? It was the baby, the hormones running through her were taking over and the human in her was fading. Vampires may feed on the living, but they live as well. They are no different than any other man or woman you find on the street.
As a matter of fact, they just may be the next person you run into. You wouldn't know, because it isn't obvious that they aren't human. The only thing that separated them was the appetite and with it the abilities.
They were stronger, faster and better at thinking, but their needs were the same. They still needed food, albeit a very small amount, but still, they needed the nutrition. They still needed exercise, they could still get fat and get injured and bleed.
They were people as well, but what Mary was becoming was not a person. She was turning into an animal which could strike and kill anything with sheer boredom and not care. That was why she hadn't picked her victim carefully.
She hadn't been thinking because she was thinking too much, if that made any sense. She thought herself too skilled to get caught, and she didn't, but they found the body of the woman's soul she sucked through her teeth and released. She took that woman's life and thought nothing of it, until she stopped and really thought of what she had actually done.
She had murdered, for the sake of not being bored. All she needed was a little blood, she didn't need the whole body, but she had wanted it. She had wanted all that that woman could give, simply because she could give it.
She was a murderer, and should be put behind bars. But she was already chained. These pesky emotions kept nagging her, telling her to care about what she had done. And they won, and she regrets every moment of what she had done.
Hearing the scream and enjoying the sound of it, enjoying sucking the life from a stranger as they begged for her to stop. Loving that the body fell to the ground and she was high, dripping blood from her teeth and lips.
She shivered as her knees buckled and she almost cried, but no. Not here, not in front of Holmes, but she was shaking furiously. Sherlock knelt in front of her, wondering what he had done. He hadn't done a thing, and that was the problem.
Mary loved it when her victim squirmed and screamed, giving the last whimper as their life left them. Sherlock hadn't screamed, hadn't fought and so she was disinterested. She disgusted herself when she admitted this was the reason she hadn't attacked and drank.
"Mary," she heard the ice of the voice in front of her. She looked up, still shivering from the emotion she was not about to release in front of him. His curls glistened in the sunlight as she focused on those grey eyes that had ice blue swirled into them. "Tell me what's wrong," he knew, but he didn't want to tell her, he wanted her to tell him.
"I…" she shook, "I murdered her, because I loved the way the scream fell from her throat and into the night, I loved the way she tried to fight as I bit down and the life from her body left with one last whimper before she fell limp into my arms. I loved to hear the sound of feet running from me as I stood with crimson dripping from my lips. I murdered her and I loved it," she screamed in disappointment at herself.
The sobs ripped from her chest and throat as the tears dripped from her pale and fluffy cheeks and they hit the concrete under them. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her, letting her sob it out, but suddenly her head ripped from Sherlock's shoulder as they heard footsteps behind Sherlock.
She looked up to find the woman she despised most standing behind the detective as she put a hand to his shoulder, keeping him on the ground as Mary scrambled to her feet. Sherlock nodded for her to run and she hated when she obeyed and her flats clicked on the ground as she ran.
Sherlock tried to stand, but the woman kept him down as she leaned over him, her blond hair falling over his shoulders as he recognized that color. He looked behind himself and confirmed what he thought.
"Jade," he rolled his eyes, "what a nice surprise. Where's the boy?" he asked. Her grip never faltered as he felt something on his neck.
But this feeling left as she pulled him off the ground and threw him on the wall, under the creeping shadows. She eyed him with the brown in her eyes being covered by her bangs and the pupils being blown so wide Sherlock didn't have to look to confirm she had fangs hanging from her lips.
"Predictable," he sighed as he tried to leave, but she pushed him to the wall and their chests met as her pearly white fangs drifted over the vein in his neck that was just screaming and pleading to be ripped open and drank from.
"To answer your question," she finally said, the fangs making a slight lisp, "the boy is with my sister," she said.
Mary watched as she couldn't tear her eyes from the scene far from her. Jade was talking to Sherlock, just talking and getting closer, but still just talking. He was responding as they talked of pointless things and Mary was hoping she wouldn't-
Her hopes were thrown in the trash as Jade's teeth sank into Sherlock's pretty and pale neck as he gasped in surprise. Mary's footsteps weren't heard as she got closer. She knew it was too late, but she had to do something.
He had to live, somehow. Mary ran to Jade, ripping her from Sherlock as she snarled and turned on Mary, "I'll eat you too if you don't leave now, dirty rat!"
"Fuck you!" and she kicked out as her foot was buried into Jade's abdomen and she hunched over as Mary rushed to Sherlock's side, assessing just how much blood was taken. Not much, enough for Jade to be nourished, but not enough for Sherlock to die. And sadly, enough for him to… no, this couldn't be happening.
Sherlock was hunched over in pain as his fingers touched the wound on his neck. Jade twirled Mary from her stance and tried to punch her, but Mary was too fast for this. And she was done, this woman was not hurting the man she loved as a close friend.
Mary's fist wrapped around Jane's and Sherlock cringed at the sound of bones cracking under that pressure and as the hand was released, Mary brought her in for something she's only ever tried once. She wondered how it would feel this time.
Her fangs descended once again and her pupils took over her eyes and her teeth sank into Jade's lovely neck. The blood tingled on her tongue as human blood doesn't and she drank more and more as she could feel her body being pleased.
It tasted so different from last time, and from human blood, but it was so good, she almost moaned from how much she wanted, how much she told from the woman whimpering under her grip. Jade's body paled as Mary drank and Sherlock watched. He was… jealous? Wait, why was he jealous? What was there to be jealous about?
Mary let go and the body fell to the concrete as she turned to Sherlock. Her pupils were still dilated, but not as much as she hiccupped. Why was he was so keen on blood? On how good he thought it would taste? What had Jade done to him?
Mary giggled, "She turned you, you sodding idiot," she pointed as she stumbled again and fell beside Sherlock, licking the last of the blood from her lips. Sherlock glared at her. "You're one of us, now, pretty." She stroked his cheek as she dazed.
It was a few minutes before she controlled herself enough to say, "I'll email you later about us. You'll need to learn, bye," she giggled as she stepped into the shadows where Jade laid and Sherlock leaned against the wall he sat upon.
He gained the strength to stand as he stumbled back to Baker Street and his flat. Luckily everyone was at work and their children were at the park, enjoying the last week of summer before going back to school.
He flung the door open as he collapsed on the stairs and Mrs. Hudson freaked out, grabbing bandages as she grabbed her phone, "No!" Sherlock suddenly shouted, "Don't! I'll take care of it," was all he could get out before his mouth went dry and his vision was on the fritz.
The colors of the main room confused him as his chair was a bright pink and the kitchen was filled with purples and blues and strangely, orange. His head couldn't take the pain given as he passed out.
Mrs. Hudson believed Sherlock and trusted him and she didn't call the police or an ambulance, she simply cleaned him up and stopped the bleeding as she covered him with a band aid and a blanket and left.
She didn't want to wake him, thinking sleep would help, or else he wouldn't have fallen asleep. His breathing became shallow as he fell into the deepest sleep he'd ever been in.
Sherlock wandered his mind palace aimlessly, trying to settle on a memory, but he couldn't as he flitted through them, all of them boring, except… ah, that night. John had taken him, and it felt so good, and he had taken John.
They had taken one another from this world, and thrust each other into a world of love and lust. Sherlock had loved that night and it was always playing in his mind, over and over again, wishing for it to happen once more.
And this was what he did, he replayed that heat, that love and those moments where he couldn't remember himself, let alone the sound surrounding him. He replayed it until he heard voices.
"Sherlock," John shook his shoulder, "Sherlock, love, I'm home," he said as Sherlock blinked, his vision repaired from the weird shit it was doing earlier. He felt his neck where Mrs. Hudson had bandaged it for him. He loved her for that, but as he pressed his fingers to it, the pain jolted him from the sleep he had tried waking from.
John was confused as Sherlock jumped up, spilling the blanket to the floor and his eyes were full of something John couldn't figure out. It was a mix of lust and pain. Pain from what? The wound? It seemed so. "Sherlock, what happened?" John finally asked as Aveen stood awkwardly watching all of this fold out.
She stared as Sherlock answered, "She bit me," he said as if he couldn't believe she had done such a thing. His fingers felt over it again as he ripped the bandage from it and his fingers stroked it bare. He hissed in pain, but persisted, looking for something, it seemed.
He gave up as his fingers fell to his side and John tilted his head so he could see and his eyes widened, "Sherlock, did Mary-?"
"No!" he almost slapped the idiot, "Jade! That woman who flirted with me at the park! That woman!" the rage bubbling up in his chest when he shouted.
"Sherlock, calm down. Aveen, go to your room," he ordered as she nodded and followed the order. She wondered what Sherlock meant by that comment about being bit.
John pushed Sherlock to the couch and made him calm down as Sherlock purred, "Mmmm, John. Can we play?" he giggled as he pulled John into a kiss.
The soldier resisted, "No, Sherlock. We need to figure out what's going on. What did she do?" he questioned as Sherlock pouted.
"She 'turned' me, Mary said. She bit me and I got this funny feeling and now I want you. Please, play with me," he begged, obviously not himself.
"No, Sherlock! Stop!" he silenced the lusting detective. "She bit you? She was a vampire?" he asked, lowering his voice so Aveen couldn't hear. Sherlock nodded, ashamed of himself, suddenly. What was he doing?
He had the doctor in a death grip with his thighs and he had a bulge in his pants that disappeared quickly as he realized what he was doing. He pushed John off of him and sat up quickly. He blushed of embarrassment. John finally nodded, confirming that Sherlock was done being a horny idiot.
"Sherlock, " he tried, Sherlock looked to him, every emotion faded into the back of his mind and all that was left was the face that was hiding a lot. John could see it, though. He saw the emotion swimming in his mind, waiting to burst.
But he didn't push into them, he simply skirted them and asked, "What happened and how did you get bit?" Sherlock started with the text he sent Mary to meet him, then he went to the alley where she had cried and told him about the murder and why she had chosen that woman instead of someone else.
He also told of how it felt to have Jade push her teeth into his neck and how Mary pulled her off and fought her and bit her and now she was dead as Mary was still alive and still very healthy. High on blood, but healthy, and so was the baby, from the little gut she was sporting.
She was fit, but pregnant, so she couldn't do anything about the belly she was getting from the baby, but Sherlock thought it was adorable for some reason, maybe because that baby was part of John. At that, John cringed, he had made a baby, and she or he was going to be a vamp.
But he recovered as Sherlock continued on into how he walked home and Mrs. Hudson found him and bandaged him and he fell asleep and now he was here. "And I'm sorry," he continued, "for being a lust filled clot." An apology? Well, now that was something.
"It's fine," John admitted, "it's all fine. Jesus, this is horrible. Now what?" he asked, searching Sherlock for an answer. He simply shrugged as he remembered Mary's words.
He jumped up and grabbed his laptop, for a change and logged in and checked his email. Yup, there was one from an anonymous person that had to be Mary, plus, there was documents attached and there was a lot. She explained the reason she sent him this and he opened the documents.
He gaped at how much information was held in this email. But nonetheless, he was curious and started reading…
So, reviews? You can rant and yell at me if that's your cup of tea...