Seven: I Insist!

John and Sherlock were just going to leave Aveen at the flat while they left, but she had spoken up, "I know where you're going, and I want to go, too," she insisted. They were just going to leave her with Mrs. Hudson.

"You can't, and if you know where we're going, you know why you can't," Sherlock confirmed as John just raised his eyebrows at her.

"I insist! I'll cry if you don't!" she threatened, her lips puckering. Sherlock rolled his eyes as John drew his eyebrows together, thinking she wouldn't even be able to. But her eyes watered, "Please!" she begged.

She hung on Sherlock as he was about to yell at her to get off, but John saw that tension in his shoulders, and slapped the back of Sherlock's curls, "Don't start," he warned. Sherlock just turned to him as if he couldn't believe that John had hit him.

Aveen couldn't help it, she giggled. But returned to 'crying' when Sherlock turned back to her. "Okay, fine!" John picked her up from Sherlock's knees. He drug Sherlock and Aveen down the stairs and out the door, a little peeved that he had to bring Aveen, and a little bit more pissed that it was Mary they were going to see.

Aveen wondered what Mary looked like and if she was adorable like Molly. She also wondered why John had loved Sherlock so much more than Mary, a woman. Aveen just couldn't wrap her head around the fact that two boys loved each other more than the women that were and probably still are all for them.

They stopped in front of where Mary had been living and John instantly felt guilty. It wasn't a rundown place, but Sherlock and John's stay was definitely better than hers. She ushered them in as she knew they'd be here.

She was still nursing a head ache, a small one, but still a head ache. "Why'd you drink it if you knew it would give that effect?" Sherlock asked, not saying it was blood.

Mary was at first confused, but Sherlock tapped his neck and she instantly understood. "It tasted good at the time, and it was for a good cause, so shut up and be glad I saved your dumb ass," she said.

John looked around as Aveen gaped at the woman in front of her. She was beautiful, like Molly, and John threw her away? What was with these two and having amazing women on them and they just throw them off for each other? Aveen shook her head at this.

Mary finally looked to the small child, "No need to hide it from her," she pointed out as John definitely looked nervous around Mary. Could it possibly have been the fact that she could snap him in two, and the fact that he had left her? And that that only made it worse? Shouldn't she be pissed at him, by the way?

"John refuses to see that she's definitely-." Sherlock started.

"A Wicken," Mary cuts him off to finish, knowing he didn't know yet. "Only people who aren't human can see it, but how did it take you so long to see?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. John only had one thought running through his head, was he the only fucking human in this?!

Sherlock simply pushed off the comment and scrunched his nose in misunderstanding, "What in God's name is a Wicken?" John almost face palmed. Even he knew this one. But John let Mary explain.

"Wickens are human, but they're a little more advanced. They're like Vampires, except they don't drink blood. They're stronger, smarter, faster, the whole nine yards," she explained.

"Then how are they different from us?" Sherlock was so stupid in this situation. He had no idea about creatures of legend. He had never read up on anything like this. He didn't expect it to be important.

"Because they aren't descendents of Demons. As I said, they are humans, but they get their power from nature. Native Americans had the right ideas with that one," she looked to the floor, "sorta. Anyway, the point is, they're different from us, and shouldn't be feared actually. People think they use magic, and a form of it, yes, but. It's not evil and it's not what people want to believe."

Aveen beamed that Mary was defending her. "I was waiting for you to figure it out, honestly. You seemed to be struggling and it looked funny, so I let you huff and puff. My human age, mentally, would be around ten, eleven. And even for a Wicken, I'm intelligent, so don't underestimate me," the raven haired squirt warned.

She was definitely closer to eleven, with that attitude. And Sherlock rolled his eyes at her. But Mary noticed John practically hiding in the corner as she said, "Tea?" and they all hummed a 'Yes, please?' she smiled and nodded as she shuffled to the small kitchen.

But Sherlock followed her to the stove where water was being heated, "How many other creatures of legend are real?" he asked, leaning on the counter. She sighed and thought about it, pursing her lips like John does.

"A lot. There are some things that will always be of legend, like Santa Clause. But things like Werewolves, and Jinn, and many, many others are real," she admitted.

"Jinn?" Sherlock's face scrunched up in thought as he tried to figure out what the hell.

"Another word for Genie? Jesus, how uneducated are you?" she asked, a little disappointed that Sherlock knew so little.

"Look, I didn't think it'd be important to read about mythical creatures that scare you into bed at night," he explained, "didn't think I'd become one, either," he mumbled under his breath, as if it was so horrible that he wasn't human. John and Aveen crowded in the kitchen as Mary was about to yell at Sherlock for being such an ass.

Who was he to judge the creatures who had no control of what they become? Mary didn't much like Sherlock right now. But when she looked to a nervous John, she smiled. He wasn't trying to show that he really didn't want to be here, but you could tell.

And the only reason he didn't want to be here, was because of the heart he broke. Although, she felt she understood why John left. She actually, in the past, had done the same to a young man. She didn't leave him for another woman, but she left for someone she loved more.

And honestly, it didn't matter that it was another man, Mary was happy that John was happy. She loved him, she really did, and that was why she wanted him to be happy, not just hers. It would have been better if he was hers and happy. But where he was now, he was in love, and he was happy. And who was she to ruin that?

She smiled at him sadly, and he returned said smile, confused that she wasn't hating him. Aveen simply stood, a little bored and Sherlock mirrored her look of boredom. He had questions, but he couldn't ask them with Mary being so consumed with John. Although, with that one, Sherlock couldn't blame her.

The kettle whistled to them and Mary jumped to remove it from the stove and Sherlock reached for the cupboard where he knew the tea was stored. John didn't even question when he knew where everything was. But Aveen was intrigued. He gave her a smile and she cocked a brow at him.

Mary had four cups, and there were tea bags in each one. She figured Aveen might want some, too. She poured as Sherlock picked up the first cup she poured into, and instead of drinking it himself, he handed it to Aveen.

She was so confused, why would he be so selfless with this and not anything else? But she accepted said cup, and sipped cautiously. It tasted good, though. A little bitter, but tea is always like that. Then it was John who he handed a cup to. John also, was confused, but Sherlock gave a small smile as he made sure their fingers brushed together.

John had a pale blush growing and Mary smiled. She loved that look on John, she also loved when she could make it, but not anymore she guessed. But God, did she wish that were still true. John was embarrassed that he always blushed so easily, but Sherlock just smiled sweetly, or as sweetly as he could manage.

Again, Mary saw what she had given John before, and so much more came from Sherlock. She was jealous, no doubt, but she couldn't do anything about it. She subconsciously rubbed her stomach and sat in her kitchen chair as John sat facing her and Aveen sat in his lap. She looked to him with endearment, and Mary smiled.

How many people love John? It was easy to do, and hard to stop. Mary wanted it to stop. John saw the sadness flash through her eyes, and she hid it again as Sherlock leaned against the counter and broke the longest and worst silence in their lives.

"Mary, I have many questions for you," he stated. She nodded and looked to him.

"They would be?" she asked.

"Well, for one, and this may be awkward for someone who isn't me, but why is drinking blood while having sex so intimate?" he had to ask. John squirmed in his seat and Aveen just sat, confused. Because she didn't want to know why he was asking.

But Mary answered with what she understood as the answer, "Because you're not only taking advantage of their pleasures, but their blood as well. Drinking blood is a way to survive, but doing it while having sex is taking advantage of the one you love completely." She nodded to confirm it, and sipped on her tea, waiting for another question.

John understood the answer given as well as Sherlock, but Aveen just ignored it. She decided to space out and not remember that they were talking about sex. So Sherlock asked another question, "Who exactly are the Elders? I know they're Demons and whatnot, but why them? why not have someone else watch the Vampires?"

"Because they were the ones that created us. Yes, they pass the role to their children, because they do die eventually, but it's because they were the idiots who created us in the first place. They felt it their duty to watch us," Mary answered without thinking about it. She knew a lot about this, she had nothing better to do in school, because it was easy for her. So she studied her background.

"I know this might be a little personal," since when did he care? "But, when were you turned?" he asked. He hid behind his cup, ready for her to shout at him, or simply not answer.

So he was a little surprised when she said, "When I was ten. It was hell, but I had the one who turned me, and I considered her my mother, seeing as my biological bitch was a drug addict. But my sire died when I was sixteen and I've been on my own since then. Well, there was my boss, but he doesn't count," and she wanted to add the fact that he was dead, but she didn't.

"Right," Sherlock nodded, knowing what she meant by boss, "Sire? As in the one who turned you?" Mary nodded. "Do you have a book or something about the other creatures that are out there? I want to know more," he said simply. He was sure she'd say for him to just go to a fucking library, but instead, she got up and retreated to her small room and came back out with a leather bound book.

She handed it to him, and it was heavy, but not as much as he would have expected. "It was my sire's. She gave it to me, but I already read everything in it. If I don't get it back, you die," she said emotionlessly. Sherlock didn't doubt her ability to murder him if he didn't give the book back.

"How much does it cover?" he asked, wondering if these were the only ones she found or if they were all of them.

"As much as there are in Britain," she answered.

"This is only in Britain?" he asked, surprised that there were so many. He flipped the book open and looked at the scribbles Mary's sire called her handwriting.

"Yes. As I said, there are a lot. But you don't need to know about all of them, do you?" she asked, sitting again. John gawked at how much there was and Aveen wasn't surprised. She herself knew that there were many legends, and therefore many creatures that followed them.

Sherlock flipped through random pages, and closed it, looking back to Mary and thanking her. He also followed it with, "John, Aveen, we need to go now." Aveen didn't want to, really. But John welcomed the idea of leaving. He really was nervous around Mary, and he needed out.

Sherlock saw how desperate he was and rolled his eyes, how could John be so stupid? Mary didn't hate him, but she was jealous. Aveen hugged Mary, whispering, "I'm sorry he was so stupid and didn't see how beautiful you are," she hugged her tighter and let go as Mary almost cried.

But she nodded and Aveen gave a small smile. Sherlock was a little confused as to why Aveen liked Mary so much, but John was already out the door. Sherlock followed and Aveen was trailing behind. She waved one last time as the door was closed and Mary let one single tear escape, but wiped it away, blaming her hormones for her being so weak.

You're not weak, Mary. You're simply heartbroken, it happens. It's not okay, and I won't tell you it is, but I can tell you that it will be okay in the end. Besides, I have something nice planned for the boys and the next few days will be worth keeping your life…

John closed the door behind himself and Aveen as Sherlock ran up the stairs, that stupid book in his mitts. John knew this would take his attention for quite some time, so he simply walked up the stairs with Aveen following.

Aveen threw off her shoes and went to the kitchen where John already was, deciding he would make something simple tonight. He was just hungry. Not sure for what, just hungry. And he knew Aveen needed food as well, and he hated that Sherlock didn't have to eat.

But when John finished making macaroni and cheese, Sherlock was still buried in the book, when he sat at the table with John by his side. John smiled through the milky cheese when Sherlock also put a hand to John's thigh, saying he was paying attention enough to know John was by his side.

Aveen didn't take any notice to Sherlock's actions, she just finished, grabbed her night clothes and took a short shower. John finished when he heard the water running and Sherlock perked up, knowing John would have something to say.

Sherlock was already halfway through the book when he put it down to watch John. He kept watching when Aveen came out and he brushed her, as always. He was so careful with her, as if she really was his daughter.

Well, she is now, I guess. But he's so gentle and caring when it shouldn't matter. Sherlock admired John's personality, because there were so many versions of it. When he was happy, when he was sad, when he was… lusting, when he was angry, God forbid, and when he was just tired.

He seemed to be a different person in each, but he was John in all of them at the same time. Sherlock was only one person, while John was many and Sherlock loved studying each one. Aveen was the same as Sherlock in that sense. She only really had one mood, and she was, no offense to her, a little boring.

But John, he was so interesting Sherlock had to stare. And when he wasn't staring, he was listening or feeling. If John left, or died, Sherlock would die. Maybe not literally, but his person now, would return to who he was before. He dreaded the thought of not having John, but what if it happened?

Could he pull himself together enough to care for Aveen? Or would he retreat to himself and continue the cases, ignoring everything else? He didn't want to think about this right now. All he could think about was John's fingers as he ran them through Aveen's long and pretty hair. And how he wanted those fingers on him.

He almost blushed at the thought of him thinking about John like that when they weren't completely alone. But he couldn't help it. He loved John, and with that, came the lust. He also realized that that was what went wrong with John's girlfriends. They only wanted his body, and when they couldn't have that, they left.

But Sherlock wanted it all. He wanted John's smile, his eyes, his walk, his hair. He wanted John's touch, first and foremost right now. Listen to him, he sounds like a girl! He shook his head slightly and John gave him a sideways smirk when he noticed the pink Sherlock had building.

Sherlock picked up the book as Aveen left and he tried to continue reading, but bit his lip when he couldn't stop thinking about John's… never mind. It didn't matter.

John noticed that Sherlock was trying to hide his body's reactions to John, and John smiled fully when he stood and ran his hand through Sherlock's curls. Sherlock almost purred, that felt so good right now. John grinned as he made Sherlock look at him.

He planted upside down kisses on the detective's lips and smirked into each one. Sherlock whimpered with the thoughts going through his head, and the fact that they were going straight to his nether regions with the kisses attached.

Damn… John's hands wandered from Sherlock's curls and he pulled back to look Sherlock in the eye as his fingers made circles on Sherlock's chest. The silk of the shirt rubbing in between them made both of them harder. The black in Sherlock's bluish grey expanded slightly and John chuckled as his digits worked on bringing Sherlock's shirt from his waistband. Sherlock could see that John's pupils were doing the same as his own.

They separated when Sherlock let the book fall from his hands to the table and he stood, taking John in his arms and tipping him back slightly with the power of the kiss he put to John's lips. It was deepened briefly before Sherlock pulled back, breathing heavily and John almost panting.

Then John was reminded, "Sherlock, Aveen will hear us," he said, knowing this was going a lot farther than just a few kisses.

"That's why we go to our room and turn on your favourite music and she won't hear us," he threw out his method to John's ears as his lips moved to John's neck.

"But that'll keep her up as well," he reasoned.

"Would you rather her hear the music, or you moaning my name," he teased and asked at the same time, his teeth now exposed and he was nipping at John's earlobe.

"Point made," and Sherlock followed John to their room where Sherlock's fangs were poking his lip as John dragging him made him harder.

Sherlock gathered his speakers and John his phone. Sherlock snatched it from his hands as John glared. But Sherlock picked something he knew John would love at the moment. He plugged the speakers in and they were loud, but not too loud. They would cover most moans, but if Sherlock made John scream, that'd be another story.

But John was surprised at what Sherlock had chosen for him, playing through the speakers on the nightstand. Also something he hadn't remembered he even had on his phone. He guessed Sherlock had heard John maybe humming it before, but he didn't know as it was Skillet on the speakers.

The first song to play was Whispers In The Dark, and John loved it. It was actually kinda sweet for some of the songs this band does. Despite the lies that you're making, your love is mine for the taking…

That one line was so true as John's lips were on Sherlock's again. He smiled into this kiss as Sherlock's fangs were barely in the way. Even if they had been, John wouldn't have cared. He loved this man, and if he was a Vampire, oh well.

John's lips and teeth drifted to Sherlock's perfect neck, where they kissed and nipped and left a love mark. Sherlock's head rolled on his shoulders and gave John more skin as his shirt was undone and on the floor before he could protest.

John's flannel joined Sherlock's on the floor and John's fingers were on the button to Sherlock's trousers as he hadn't noticed that Sherlock already had John's undone. He grinned at Sherlock's fingers on him, and it was wiped from his face with a moan when Sherlock's fingers were over his groin then Sherlock's palm, palming him through his pants.

Those fingers were beautiful as John wanted them on his bare skin. He pushed Sherlock's trousers to the floor as Sherlock's other hand pulled down his own pants. The hand on John's groin drifted away and pulled off John's trousers and pants as well.

John was glad they didn't like wearing shoes and socks all the time, or they would have gotten in John and Sherlock's way right now. That would have been bad, or at least to them it would have been bad. Sherlock looked over John and decided that no matter what John said, he was more beautiful than anyone Sherlock had ever seen. Including himself.

"Amazing," he heard John gasp. John still couldn't get used to how perfect Sherlock's skin was, all the way down to his toes. Dipping and curving around the muscles on Sherlock's body and presenting the most breath taking Sherlock John had ever seen. Why hadn't he taken Sherlock before he Fell?

Sherlock's eyes were glued to John's shoulder now, studying the way the bullet had entered and exited. But when John's hand was drifting down, Sherlock remembered this moment, and he was instantly aching for John to touch him.

Sherlock's mind focused on the hand on his member and the music flooded his ears as the lyrics said to him, My love is just waiting, to clothe you in crimson roses. He moaned and sighed as John let go and pushed Sherlock into the covers of the bed under the back of his knees.

John kneeled in front of Sherlock, planting kisses on his way down, making Sherlock whimper once again in anticipation. He loved that noise as he parted Sherlock's knees with the palms of his hand and when his mouth landed on Sherlock's member, Sherlock's fingers threaded through John's hair.

He bit back moans when John's tongue tortured and his teeth were merciless when it came to pleasuring the detective. The heightened sense didn't help anything as he almost bit a hole in his lip. But he distracted his mouth with making little sighs instead of panting.

He was unraveling under John's fingers and his mouth. John looked back up at Sherlock, sliding his mouth off from the brief moment of it being impaled with Sherlock's member, and swallowing the precum he had dripping now. He grinned at Sherlock. He was on him in seconds as Sherlock's fingers couldn't help themselves and he took John's cock in hand and started pumping.

This left John panting, and moaning for more as Sherlock's other hand went around and stroked John's entrance, teasing. John reached for the nightstand and grabbed lube, throwing it at Sherlock, and he accepted coating his fingers as one slipped in easily.

John yelped in pleasure when Sherlock accidently pushed into his prostate on his first try. But now knowing it was there, the second finger pushed in and brushed over that bundle of nerves again, and John moaned into Sherlock's neck, where he had bitten down.

John was surprised he hadn't drawn blood by the time Sherlock added a third digit. He gasped, leaving saliva on Sherlock's skin where he had drooled a little. Sherlock chuckled when John's fingers were woven into his curls and pulling, trying to get him to just get it over with.

"Sherlock, I need…" he gasped when Sherlock rubbed against his entrance, teasing him to no end.

"Hm?" Sherlock purred in John's ear.

"Fucking fuck, Sherlock," he panted out, as his hands left Sherlock's curls, pushing on his chest to steady himself, "I need you inside me," he admitted.

"I love you," Sherlock said as he pushed in and he almost giggled at John's reaction. John wanted to return the three words, but he was breathless. Sherlock loved it as he kissed every inch of John's face and thrust in slow motions.

John moved his hips so he met Sherlock with each thrust. He loved feeling Sherlock inside him, feeling him move in such a sensational way. John's lips hungrily found Sherlock's and it was deepened as Sherlock hit John's sweet spot and he moaned, and had it not been inside Sherlock's mouth, it would have been so much louder.

Sherlock loved hearing and feeling that noise, and he made sure he hit it on every slow and agonizing thrust. John screamed moans each time. Sherlock's instinct to drink started surfacing as his fangs pressed into John's tongue.

John could feel Sherlock's hunger and he pulled his mouth off, leaning his head in a way that he could cuddle into Sherlock's jaw, and Sherlock had access to his neck. When Sherlock couldn't hold it back, he sank his teeth in as he heard the lyrics tell John what he felt.

I must confess that I feel like a monster… John heard this and knew Sherlock didn't care that the songs continued to play as John just kept his hips moving, and the friction in between their stomachs rubbed against John's erection as he gasped out moans and screams and Sherlock's name.

The blood filled Sherlock's mouth as he thrust up into John, a little harder now, but he continued when he heard John just moan and ask for, "M-more. Harder, Sherlock," he begged. Sherlock obliged as they were both so close…

Before they knew it, Sherlock was licking John's wound and they were oozing into and onto each other. John came so hard part of it was on Sherlock's mouth as he laughed in bliss. Sherlock licked John from his face and John blushed as he felt Sherlock fall out of him.

John cuddled into Sherlock's neck as he felt Sherlock licking, trying to get the blood from John's neck. "Sh-shower?" John managed, still coming round from his orgasm. It was powerful, and Sherlock's was as well. Somehow, drinking from John mad it better for both of them.

Sherlock felt over John's neck, no scars as the cuts had closed now. The water falling over them made the silence interesting. They had flipped off the music by now, and John loved how Sherlock knew him so well.

"Sherlock, I'm okay now," he moved Sherlock's fingers from his neck and placed them on his heart, "Do you feel this?" Sherlock nodded, his face unmoving, showing no emotion as he felt John's heartbeat under his fingertips. "It beats for you," he said sweetly.

Sherlock finally smiled, his hand falling from John's chest and to his wrist, where he felt John's pulse once more. John's lips brushed over Sherlock's pulse and he felt the slow but defined leaps coming from Sherlock's neck.

He nipped at it and went over the marks he left, wishing they'd disappear completely. He wasn't like other sex partners. Any serious marks he left, he felt guilty for. It wasn't marking his territory, it was cruel. But they were healing at an alarming rate, nonetheless. He still wished he could control himself more.

Sherlock ripped John's eyes from his 'injuries' and they landed on Sherlock's as he got closer. They locked gazes as Sherlock lips settled on John's and they never stopped looking into one another's eyes.

It was a little strange, but when they pulled back and Sherlock rested his forehead to John's, they smiled. This was perfect, and they wouldn't have it any other way…

Aveen had understood why Sherlock and John had the music on last night and she fell asleep to it actually. She loved that they had considered the fact that she was still awake, and she hadn't heard the one scream that had escaped the noise of the music playing.

She was glad she had gotten sleep, though. And she was happy because she understood that sex was a part of love, and if that was the case, they loved each other very, very much. She smiled through her breakfast as John was rushing around everywhere, trying to gather things because he had been called into work for an emergency.

Sherlock hated that stupid call, but he sighed as he followed John down the stairs as always. He kissed him goodbye, sweetly and John loved the sound of them parting and the tingle Sherlock left on his lips as he called a cab.

Sherlock closed the door and went back upstairs to meet Aveen's smile, "Have fun last night?" she teased.

"Shut up," Sherlock snapped, "it's not really any of your business," he then said calmly, realizing he had snapped and he was sorry. He never said he was sorry, but Aveen accepted the apology either way.

"Right," she nodded, "well, I've just got to say that you have amazing taste in music. I actually have a song stuck in my head," she hummed the part she had stuck. It was a good song. Sherlock smiled as he got a text a few hours later, from his brother and it changed everything…

John was just sitting there, minding his own business, when he heard the cabbie swear loudly as he tried to stop. "Hey, mate, what's going on?" he leaned forward and the cabbie just looked at him in the mirror.

"I can't stop," he said panicking. John ran a hand through his hair, he was instantly worried. He'd only ever had a problem with a car like this once before and he was trying to remember how he got out of it. Sherlock would know... Stop it! this is your problem, now solve it!

"Okay, um. Is it the brakes?" he asked. The cabbie nodded, irritated as they were nearing a stop light and he couldn't stop. "Just slow down then and eventually let go of the gas, it'll stop," he remembered and explained but he was still worried as the cabbie was shaking when he slowed down and he did eventually stop. The blood in their veins slowed as they settled.

They stopped in the shoulder, as well. "You'll need another cab while I get this fixed," they both jumped out and John simply nodded. "I'll call a buddy if you like?" he asked. John nodded again. One problem down, one to go. He was severely worried about what emergency they had to call him in for at the hospital. His blood never settled after that thought.

He was in another cab in seconds and he thanked the one before, handing cash he didn't accept at first, but John shoved in his hand. "Thanks," he finally accepted and John was off. Peculiar fellow, John was. The cabbie shook it off as he watched the car disappear.

John settled just as the cab stopped again and he paid while stepping out. He rushed into the building as the others told him what was going on. There had been a bomb that exploded somewhere along the subway, and there were many casualties.

John puffed his cheeks out, exhaling as he prepared for the worst.

John had patched up four people on the last two hours with the help of others and he was exhausted but he had to keep going. He took a break for coffee and a doctor approached him saying, "You must feel like a hero," she beamed, knowing about his successes before he did.

"Not really," he admitted. He looked at his watch, great, another patient in fifteen minutes.

"Here," she poured something in his coffee, "little pick-me-up for you," she smiled warmly. Her green eyes hid a lot from John and he eyed her.

"I don't trust you," he said bluntly. She shrugged.

"Trust me, or don't, it'll help," she said. He smelled his coffee, glaring at her, wondering if he should. Well, he was already in the hospital, and if he was poisoned, they'd help. He still took only a small sip. "I'm Eve, by the way," she said as she stood

John shook her hand briefly as he drank the rest, "John," and he left. He had another surgery now and he couldn't afford to be late. Eve smirked at the fact that John was so stupid. He may be in a hospital, but no one can save him from what she's done. And it wasn't the poison that she was thinking about hurting him with.

John was finished and was about to go in for the last time today, when he felt drowsy. He had felt better after what Eve had given him, but now he was tired again. So much for that. But when he started walking back again, he couldn't stand.

He couldn't even cry out as darkness consumed him and his face hit the cold floor. That was the text Sherlock had gotten: John's in the hospital, and not working. You should visit him, I can't- MH.

Sherlock bolted for the door as Aveen followed and he got a cab with barely remembering to close the front door and lock it. He twitched in his seat as Aveen just questioned what was going on. Luckily they had both been dressed when Sherlock received this text. And obviously Mycroft couldn't make it, he wouldn't text if he could talk, and if he can't talk, he can't move. Most likely something to do with his teeth again.

Sherlock pulled Aveen from the cab and said not a word as he paid and she was being pulled through the door of the hospital. He gave up in anticipation and put her on his hip as he approached the counter with the woman behind it.

"I'm here to see John Watson," he confirmed with a nod and Aveen was almost crying with how worried she was now.

"We can't let anyone see him but fa-."

"I am his boyfriend! And I am Sherlock Holmes, let me see him!" he demanded in a defined voice. Her eyes widened when she heard his name and she ushered him back the hall immediately before more people could stare. She also blushed when she heard the word boyfriend. Everyone thought something was going on with those two, and apparently there is.

Sherlock put Aveen on her feet at the sight of John in that retched bed, with a drip in his arm. Sherlock grabbed his hand as he pulled up a chair and sat by his lover. He had regretted telling the nurse John was his boyfriend, but it was true.

He hadn't shown his anger or any other emotion, he had simply yelled at her, and Aveen noticed that he was bottling said emotions. But now they were sprayed to his face as he raised John's hand to his lips.

"He was poisoned," Mycroft explained when he stepped in the room, hours later. Aveen was just waiting patiently while Mycroft walked in. She gawked at how tall this man was, and how he was dressed. Even the umbrella said he was classy.

She smirked when she heard, "Go away, brother," Sherlock snarled. So Sherlock does have a brother. Aveen had wondered whether he had anyone besides John and Molly. Then there was Lestrade randomly.

"Sherlock, what the hell happened?" Greg asked as he looked over John.

"What are you doing here?" Mycroft asked, wondering why Gregory of all people was here. But as his green eyes met Mycroft's brown, Mycroft tilted his head slightly at the feeling in his stomach. those eyes...

"John's my friend, too, you stupid git," Gregory spat. But then he realized who this was, and simply widened his eyes as he took in Mycroft. But his attention was turned back to John when Sherlock answered his question.

"He was poisoned. I don't know who did it or why, but I will find out," Sherlock declared. Greg noticed John's hand in Sherlock's and had a smile spread over his face. Sherlock turned back to his lover as an annoyed blush creeped over his cheeks.

Greg pulled up a chair on the other side of the bed, and Mycroft couldn't leave this time. He didn't know why but the silver haired man has captured his thoughts as he deduced him over and over. Greg was stressed and John wasn't helping this situation.

Mycroft was confused as to why he couldn't stop going over Gregory's features. Greg's eyes met his again, and he was instantly embarrassed that he had been staring. He didn't show it, but he felt it, and Greg simply glared at him.

Mycroft was suddenly hurt, as Greg's stare went back to John. Sherlock brushed his hair from his face and placed a kiss where that hair had been. Sherlock couldn't wait for John to wake up and tell him what had happened.

But Mycroft's mind couldn't get rid of the DI. He tilted his head again, staring, again, and wondering what was so interesting about this man. Maybe it was the fact that he had the same qualities as John. Strong, kind hearted and a bit older.

Dear God, was Mycroft getting the hots for this man?! he knew he liked both sexes, but seriously?! This man was a friend of his brother, and that would never work. But Mycroft couldn't leave, so he sat. Beside Aveen Mycroft sat in one of the chairs...

This is what Sherlock gets for leaving... Just saying. And yes, I will have Mystrade, and I don't care if I lose views and/or followers for it. But anyway, reviews?