Chapter Twelve

Fifteen minutes later found them both freshly showered and back in Moriarty's study, in the same positions they'd been in was sitting reclined in Moriarty's office chair while the consulting criminal sat in front of him on the desk, scrutinizing him carefully. Sherlock stared back at him, full lips curled into a tiny smile.

"You're confused." He began and his criminal nodded.

"You have fangs." He responded and the detective huffed in annoyance.

"Yes, thank you for that obvious understatement."

Jim sent him an annoyed look. "Explain."

"Caderyn found me after they left me in the alley. I was so ashamed of myself and in so much pain and when he appeared I thought he'd come to finish what they started and I begged him to spare me. He, in turn offered me power, a way to get revenge. I refused it."

The criminal frowned, tilting his head curiously. "Yet you have fangs." He reiterated and Sherlock nodded.

"He ignored my refusal and changed me any ways. I later found out that had he done as I asked, I would've died. Sometimes, I resent him taking that chance from me, others," He shrugged. "I am thankful."

"What is he? What are you?"

He smiled.

"Vampire. Father is the last Vampire Lord in existence. I am the youngest of his children."

Jim frowned deeply. "You're immortal."

His love nodded again and he scowled. "You'll outlive me."

The vixen looked away, shivering at the thought and Jim snarled at him, grabbing his face and forcing him to face him. To his surprise, the man's eyes were full of frustrated tears.

"I don't want to." Sherlock responded honestly. "I don't want to go back to living in a world full of goldfish and boredom. Where there is no challenge, no change. Just ignorance and-and-"

"Shhh. Haven't you learned yet, Sherlock?" He interrupted. "You are mine. You aren't allowed to live if I don't. Ever. Change me."

Sherlock gasped, staring at him as if he'd just said the most blasphemous thing he'd ever heard. His eyes, however, were full of longing and indecision.

"Change me." Moriarty repeated. "Then our game, The Game can go on forever. We can play as well as we can love."

Slowly the detective nodded and stood.

"Forever?" He whispered and Moriarty smiled.

"Forever." He promised.

Large, yet dainty hands came up to hold him in place and he bared his neck in anticipation. Moments later, he felt a pair of sharp fangs enter the tender flesh of his throat and his smile widened.

Forever.

"Where the hell have you been?" John snapped at his best friend as the detective entered their flat with a small smile playing on his lips.

The man ignored him, pale eyes dancing with a light they'd been missing since his disappearance months prior. Seeing it made John falter in his rant and look at Caderyn, who he'd called after discovering that Sherlock was missing earlier that morning. He'd assumed that the detective had gone to visit the man,yet the man had denied such a thing, stating he hadn't seen Sherlock since his visit three days prior.

They'd been talking about contacting Mycroft when the detective had finally returned with a bouquet of white red-tipped roses and a small smile.

"Lockie?" Lord DeLaRose called and Sherlock spun around, blushing faintly.

"Father. John." He greeted and the red-head stood.

"Are you alright, Childe? You gave Doctor Watson quite the scare when he found you missing this morning. Your mother as well."

"I was fine. Another present came last night and I went to follow up on it."

John frowned.

Moriarty's morbid gifts to Sherlock seemed to be putting the detective in a good mood despite the fact that they were wrong and nothing he did made Sherlock realize that they were bad. It was like since that night in the warehouse all of Sherlock's regard for Moriarty's victims had gone out the window. He looked at the bouquet in the detective's arms, realizing with startling clarity that the red tipping the white petals was actually blood.

He gasped.

"Is- Is that blood?" he whispered and his friend frowned at him.

"Obviously."

"Sherlock!" He snapped and the man flinched away from him, cradling the roses closer. This just enraged John more.

"Is your entire regard for humanity just gone?!" He yelled at him and the detective flinched again, scowling.

"Of course not! But not all of us can be a saint !" He spat, pale eyes flashing. "Some of us want for vengeance, for those who wrong us to suffer! Is it really so wrong of me to enjoy the fact that someone is willing to take that vengeance for me?" His voice lowered and he looked down.

"Does that make me a freak?"

Caderyn sent John a dark look, making him stay his tongue then pulled the broken man into his arms.

"Of course it doesn't, My Childe. It makes you human. Each of those disgusting bastards got what they deserve. Never be ashamed of yourself for moving past it and being relieved about that."

Sherlock nodded but didn't seem to believe the man's words and John felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't wanted to hurt his friend, he just wanted to remind him of his humanity, that he was better that the monsters that had tried to break him.

He opened his mouth to apologize, only to cry out as his friend wavered on his feet and collapse in Lord DeLaRose's arms, head lolling on his shoulder.

"Sherlock! What's wrong with him?"

Caderyn ignored him, taking a seat on the sofa with the man in his arms. Then to John's surprise he raised his wrist to his lips and bit down hard enough to draw blood. He placed the bleeding appendage to Sherlock's lips paying no mind as Mycroft entered and froze. Sherlock latched on immediately, suckling like a babe would it's mother's teat. Both John and Mycroft watched them wide-eyed and Caderyn stared back in amusement.

"What the hell have you done to him?" Mycroft breathed out and the vampire smirked.

"I saved his life." He responded, before he proceeded to explain just how close to death Sherlock had come the night of his disappearance and how he'd saved him. He explained how Sherlock had collapsed due to malnutrition and from not feeding from his Sire like he was supposed to. By the time he finished both men were staring at the suckling Detective in a new light, proud of his strength and sad that he'd had to suffer the way he had.

"Shut up." Sherlock rumbled pulling away from his Sire who chuckled.

"No one was speaking, Little One."

"You were thinking, it's annoying."

Caderyn smirked.

"Tell me, Childe. How is your mate?"

Neither Mycroft nor John had ever seen Sherlock blush so hard.

"I turned him."

John raised an eyebrow. "Who's your mate?"

"Moriarty."

Somehow John had expected that.

TBC...