It seems a little pointless to say that I am more than slightly shocked when Mycroft and Greg appear in the centre of the living room without warning. Leaping up from my chair my phone drops from my hand. Since Sherlock left me I have desperately been trying to get through to somebody but nobody has answered, it's almost as though my calls are being deliberately re-directed. I strongly suspect Nightmare might have something to do with it. Yes I am angry he dared to put me to sleep. If I ever see him again he and I will be having words.

I rush over and drop to my knees, fumbling to untie the tight knots on the rope binding Greg's wrists. "Oh God, I was so worried!" I cry, not caring if I sound a little frantic. "What on earth happened to the two of you?" I pause for a moment and glance over my shoulder, realising with a jolt who is missing from this picture "I thought Sherlock came to rescue you."

Because I am busying myself with Mycroft's bindings I miss the look that must obviously pass between them. When I look up again Greg is trying to massawwwge life back into his wrists, both of them marked with raw looking red lines where the rough rope has scraped the skin away. "He did come and he did rescue us but..." Greg's voice trails away and he stares hard at the floor.

Luckily Mycroft steps in to finish off the sentence. "There was an unforseen complication." His voice is heavy and his wings hang simply. "I don't know if Sherlock will be coming back." Greg lets out a small sob and Mycroft wraps an arm around his shoulder, pulling him against him so Greg can bury his head in Mycroft's chest. I can't help but feel a pang of jealously at the sight. After this is all over I am never letting Sherlock out of my sight ever again.

For now though all I can do is hope that Mycroft is exaggerating. "What do you mean he isn't coming back?! Of course he's coming back! He has too!" My voice rises and breaks, shaking uncontrollably as I struggle to keep a wave of panic at bay. Oh God, oh God. I know I shouldn't have let Sherlock leave, that I should have tried to stop him...Though against his new powers I don't know what I possibly could have done.

Briefly Mycroft pauses in the act of gently stroking Greg's hair and looks up at me with sorrow in his ice blue eyes. "Nightmare hurt him badly, I don't know if he could come back from that. I think if he could have gotten away he would already be here." He says, sounding lost and a little afraid. I have never seen Mycroft like this, so broken and...sentimental, and I have to admit that it scares me a little to see beneath his usually perfectly calm exterior. It makes everything seem just that little bit more unreal.

I shake my head rapidly, refusing to believe what Mycroft is hinting at. "No. Sherlock will be fine. He's been in worse situations than this and managed to escape." Neither Mycroft or Greg look convinced by what I am saying but at least they have the decency not to say anything. My self control is alarmingly shaking at the moment and the tiniest push is going to send me over the edge. "He'll be fine, he has to be." My voice lacks conviction. Deep down I know Mycroft is right. Sherlock should be back here by now. The only reason he isn't... nope. Nope. Not going down that road.

At the moment I become aware of a faint tremor running through the floor beneath my feet. I frown. What could be causing it? I glance over at Mycroft to see if he has noticed it too. Apparently he has because he returns my frown and disentangle himself carefully from Greg who barely seems to notice. Poor Greg, out of all of us he is the only one of us who was dragged unwillingly into this life. At least Mycroft and I had a choice; if we want to we could walk away. Not that either of us ever would. "Mycroft, what is that?"

The tremors spread to the walls, shaking the glass in the mirrors and sending things tumbling off the masterpiece with quiet thuds. In answer Mycroft let's out a muffled groan. "Oh fantastic, of course he has to be involved." He mutters to himself, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "He isn't even supposed to be in London." Reaching out he grabs Greg and myself by the shoulders and drags us back into a corner before settling down to watch the termors that are now focused on one specific patch of wall over by the door. Then Mycroft drops into a protective crouch and stretches out his wings, the temperature in the room dropping as he summons his powers in preparation for an attack.

I tense, wondering who is about to step through the human sized patch now rippling on the wall. It can only be an Engifted, no one else could have power like that. As the three of us watch a human hand appears through the wall, emerging through it as though the brick is nothing but liquid. What the hell?! From the corner of my eye I see a serious expression flash briefly across Mycroft's face. Oh dear, he really doesn't look happy about whoever is about to visit us. Seconds later his eyes glow a brilliant blue and a trail of ice crystals creep across the floor towards the wall where they lay in wait for our visitor to step through. When they do my mouth falls open in shock and the ice leaps up, fastening around the visitor's feet and freezing them in place.

Trapped half in and half out of the wall Jim Moriarty glares at the people assembled before him and gives me an especially toxic stare. "Really?" He demands, his lilting voice irritated, "This is how your treating visitors now? Last time I came here Sherly offered me a cup of tea...I'm disappointed in you John." He shakes his head and tugs against the ice preventing him from stepping from the wall. "And I came here with good news as well. I suppose that you don't want to hear it." He sniffs and crosses his arms. "Oh well, I'll just take him back to Nightmare then."

How fantastic! Moriarty is an Engifted! Apparently everyone but me, Greg and Mrs Hudson are not entirely human! You know I preferred the old days before I knew more than one Engifted. Mycroft was enough for me frankly. Just when I though I could not be surprised anymore!

Still in a protective crouch Mycroft snorts loudly and gives Moriarty his best glare. "And what exactly is this good news you're so eager to tell us." He asks, sounding sceptical. Like me he has not had much cause to trust Moriarty. He has tried to kill Sherlock on more than one occasion after all. "If you plan to attack I have to warn you that you won't win against me." To back up this statement the temperature of the room plummets further and Greg and I begin to shiver violently. Hopefully Mycroft will remember we are fragile compared to him before we freeze to death.

Moriarty rolls his eyes at the words, apparently unmoved by Mycroft's display of power. "Really you think I would be that stupid? I have long since learnt my lesson. Now if you would just release me I can reveal my news to you." Mycroft stands and crosses his arms, giving Moriarty a level stare. Moriarty let's out a sigh. "Fine, be like that then. It's only going to make this all the harder. He isn't going to be much help to me." At this I let out an involuntary gasp. Could he be referring to who I think he is? Moriarty gives me a sly smile. "I think John knows exactly who I'm referring to." He says with a wink. Then he leans into the wall as far as the ice allows him and starts to awkwardly haul something heavy through the liquid surface. It does not take long for me to know for certain I was right. There is the familiar messy black curls and lanky frame...I swallow hard. He is horribly limp and my heart contracts. Please, dear God, let him be ok!

I go to rush forward to offer Moriarty help but Mycroft flings out his arm, catching me full in the chest and knocking the breath from my body. I crumble to the ground and gasp for air. Greg rushes over and lightly rubs my back, looking questionly at Mycroft as he does so. Mycroft however only has eyes for Moriarty. "What the hell did you do to my brother?" He demands, his deep voice full of malice. "And I though I told you to stay the hell out of London!" God help Moriarty if he has hurt Sherlock.

Despite the ice creeping further up his body Moriarty somehow finds the audacity to shrug and give Mycroft a grin. "Oh don't worry I haven't forgotten. I only returned because there were rumours Sherly had developed his powers at last." He pauses and looks thoughtful for a moment, " Rumours I see to be true." He continues as he finally manages to get all of Sherlock out of the wall and drops him on the floor with a loud thump that makes me wince.

Then the blood in my veins turns to ice when I notice the state Sherlock is in. He is covered with blood with more oozing from nasty gashes and tears in his skin. I swallow hard, fighting the urge to throw up. I swear I can actually see a gleam of bone from the wound in his chest. Tears well up and threaten to spill over. Oh Sherlock, if you'd only stayed with me none of this would have happened. God only knows how he is still alive.

Mycroft bares his teeth in a snarl loud enough to make even Greg, who has lived with him for years, flinch slightly. "What have you done to Sherlock?" He repeats, his voice full of the promise of violence. I have never seen beneath Mycroft's calm exterior before and I have to admit that it's a little frightening.

Even Moriarty is a little taken aback, though he hastily composes himself and once more gives all of us a sly grin. "I haven't done anything. In fact I saved Sherly from what would have been a fate worse than death. No, the one who did this to him was," Here Moriarty deliberately pauses for dramatic effect, "Nightmare." He finishes with a flourish.

Mycroft rolls his eyes and lets a snort. "Well I know that, Moriarty. I was there when Nightmare first attacked him. What I want to know is why you were there?" His face hardens and the temperature in the room drops further. By now I can actually see my breath being expelled in great white clouds. If Mycroft keeps this up for much longer Greg and I are going to freeze to death and right now there is no way Mycroft will listen to reason. "You're working for Nightmare. You must be to have been there."

For the first time since I have met him Moriarty actually looks afraid, his face draining of colour. "Why would I work for that egotistical maniac?" He asks, sounding hurt Mycroft would even entertain such a notion. "You know me. I'm more of a lone Engifted." Here Moriarty pauses and shifts uncomfortably. "Anyway I couldn't have hurt Sherly even if I had wanted to. Apparently your Brother is unkillable."

I shake my head, refusing to believe what I am hearing. Nobody can be unkillable, not even an Engifted. It goes against the basic rules of the natural world. "That's impossible. Sure he has healing abilities but I'm certain he still has limits." I protest, trying to ignore the thoughtful expression in Mycroft's face. There is obviously something he knows about this, something Greg and I, being mere Humans, are not privy too. "You must be mistaken in what you saw, Moriarty." I say, my voice lacking conviction.

Moriarty goes to reply but is interrupted by a familiar deep voice that makes my pulse begin to race. Un-noticed by all of us Sherlock has brushed himself off and is now leaning against the wall with no sign of his previous injuries. I remember then just how quickly he had healed the work of Bonebreaker and I can't help but wonder about the Engifted he might have become. Can it be possible he really is as powerful as Moriarty is suggesting? "Oh no Groundwalker was not mistaken." Sherlock's voice is a little different to how I remember it. There is a definate undertone of darkness that wasn't there before. Bending at the waist he gives us an elegant bow and when he straightens up his eyes are a deep and pupiless black. "Allow me to introduce myself to you all." He says with a grin that shows off the points of razor sharp teeth, "My name is Thanatos."

Though the name means nothing to me both Moriarty and Mycroft let out gasps of shock. "What? But that's impossible." Moriarty stammers in disbelief, shaking his head. "You can't be."

Sherlock/ Thanatos looks a little taken aback by this and he crosses his arms, frowning at Moriarty as he does so. "And why is that so impossible? Or are you simply unable to see it with your simple little imagination?" He asks with a gleam in his black eyes. Ouch, even for Sherlock that was brutal.

Moriarty bristles, his brown dirt covered wings trembling with annoyance. "Because Thanatos is the last and most deadly of the Elite. I hardly think that you are the best person for the job." Interesting, I am definitely able to detect a hint of jealously in Moriarty's voice. "Mycroft, help me out here. You know your little brother better than anyone."

If the shock on Mycroft's face is anything to go by I don't think he'll be of much use anytime soon. There is a darkness in Sherlock's eyes, a hardness I have never seen before. It is as though he has completely forgotten what happened while we were both prisoners of Nightmare... My cheeks heat and I am aware of Moriarty shooting me a look of curiosity. For now I choose to ignore because that is not information I am willing to share right now. I'm sure Moriarty would only put it to some devious use for his own benefit. "Sherlock? Are you alright?" I ask, afraid of what the answer will be.

There is a long silence and I can not hope but begin to worry. I know people change when they go through the transformation into an Engifted but I had in my wildest dreams imagined I could risk losing Sherlock for good. Finally there is a heavy sigh and Sherlock's black wings lift slightly, the lace like feathers catching the light and gleaming like an oil spill on a summer's day. "I've never felt better John." Sherlock's voice is oddly emotionless and I feel a shiver run down my spine. "Now if you will excuse me I have some business to attend to."

This catches Mycroft attention and he finally makes a comment. "What business Sherlock? You can't leave again. I was going frantic when I discovered you missing." Here he briefly makes eye contact with Greg and the two of them share a look. Hmmm I'll have to ask him about that later. "I forbid you to leave." He says, his voice shaking and badly lacking in conviction.

Sherlock gives him a look capable of freezing even the hottest of fires. "Really Brother you forbid me?" There is dark amusement in his voice and I know with a horrible certainty that Mycroft has crossed a line. "And how exactly were you planning on stopping me? Your power after all is nothing compared to mine." Then he raises one hand and clicks his fingers with a sharp sounding snap.

Almost immediately a feeling of tiredness sweeps over me and I am unable to stop a yawn from escaping. Beside me there are quiet thumps as Mycroft and Moriarty collapse to the ground, both of them asleep before they do anything. I feel a brief flash of annoyance he has done this to me again and then the darkness reaches up and drags me under.

God only knows how much time has passed when I finally blink my eyes open. Because it is now dark I can safely assume it has been several hours since Sherlock put us to sleep. Just like last time I am left with a horrible disorientated feeling and a head that feels as though it has been stuffed with cotton wool. The others have all come around as well and Mycroft has his arms around Greg in what looks like a hug. Moriarty just looks paused off.

"What the hell was that?" He demands, the floor beneath his feet rippling slightly. "What the hell did the detective do to us?"

Mycroft sighs and rests his head on Greg's shoulder. "What my little brother did Moriarty was lower our heart rates enough to put us into a state of deep sleep." He answers, looking troubled at everything that has happened.

I for one am still struggling to come to terms with Sherlock's new identity. Though I do not know anything about the Elite I do remember reading somewhere that Thanatos was the Greek god of death (yes when your around Sherlock long enough you pick up some random bits of information). Somehow I have the feeling nothing good will come out of any of this. Seconds later I am unfortunately proved right.

Unannounced and uninvited Nightmare appears without warning in the centre of the room with a gleam in his red eyes. Mycroft and Greg both let out cries while Moriarty merely rolls his eyes in apparent exasperation. And just when I thought all of this was behind us. "What do you want this time?" I ask, even as tendrils of shadows reach out for the four of us.

Nightmare appears taken aback by my attitude but quickly composes himself, arranging his face into a calm, disinterested expression. "I have a little problem, an Engifted who keeps getting in my way. I think he is known to you." The tendrils cover the room and I feel weakness wash over me. Seriously, I am being kidnapped- again! This is rapidly beginning to grow tiresome. "Don't worry." Nightmare says in a voice that is not at all reassuring. "Once Sherlock Holmes is dead I'll let you all go free. You can all join him in the silence of death." After that everything goes mercifully black and I know no more.