I breath a sigh of relief when the familiar settings of 221B materialise around us. It's feels great to finally be home. For a long moment Sherlock and I remain where we are, neither of us willing to let go of the other. The moment is spoilt however when Greg leaps up from my armchair with a cry that is two parts joy to one part shock and hurries towards us. "Thank God you're ok. What happened?" He slows as he gets closer and stares at me. I glance down. My shirt is ripped and covered in an alarming amount of blood. It looks pretty bad and Lestrade's reaction is understandable. "You're covered in blood!" He gasps, "Are you alright?"

I can't quite meet his eye. Sooner or later he is going to notice that Mycroft isn't with us. "I'm fine. Sherlock healed me."

He looks more closely, obviously noticing Sherlock's protective arm around my shoulder, and his eyebrows rise slightly. He grins. "About bloody time the two of you got together. Mrs Hudson and I have been taking bets on how long it would take." He pauses, tipping his head to one side question my. "Where's Mycroft? Did Nightmare take him as well?"

This was the moment I had been dreading. Beside me Sherlock begins to shake and I know that I won't be receiving any help from that quarter. It is up to me to break the bad news to Greg. I swallow hard, knowing full well what it is going to do to him. "I'm so sorry Greg..." Tears fill his eyes and drip down his cheeks.

"I know." He says in a voice barely above a whisper. "I felt it." In a daze he lightly places a hand against his chest in the exact same spot Mycroft had had his heart torn out. He closes his eyes and let's out a sigh. "At least we got to spend one night together." He murmurs to himself.

Sherlock looks startled by this and goes to say something. I place a finger over his lips and shake my head. "Not now, give him time to grieve and process the news first." I tell him before turning my attention back to Greg. "You can stay here tonight if you want." (Much as it pains me to say it my new relationship with Sherlock can wait). Greg is my friend and he is hurting. Offering him a shoulder to cry on is the least I can do. Still I would be lying if I didn't say I was relieved when he refused my offer by saying he would rather be alone right now.

Sherlock does his best to be comforting but it falls a little flat. Not that Greg really notices. With only the most cursory of goodbyes he leaves to return home. I make a mental note to check on him tomorrow...I glance at the clock and then at the window. Apparently it is 11 in the morning. Over the last couple of days and after everything that has happened I have completely lost track of the time. God only knows how long the fight against Nightmare actually lasted. All I can do now is be thankful the nightmare is over.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself I turn my attention to Sherlock, who still hasn't let go of me since we arrived back. Despite the black wings tucked tightly against his back he looks incredibly human and fragile right at this moment. "I'm sorry John." He says, his voice soft. "For everything. I never meant for you to get hurt." Gently he rests his forehead on mine and gazes deep into my eyes. "At least without Thanatos I'll just be like any other Engifted. I'll never be able to hurt you."

My heart goes out to him. "You've given up so much for me Sherlock."

Sherlock smiles a little sadly. "It was worth it dear heart to spend a life-time with you." A spark of desire burns in his eyes and he takes my hand, laying it against his chest. Beneath his warm skin I feel his heart beating. "I love you." His voice has a rough edge to it and the hand on my shoulder creeps downwards, stroking down the length of my spine and down towards the waistband of my trousers. A shudder runs through me and a quiet gasp escapes from between my lips. "You have no idea how long I've waited to feel your bare skin against mine." He says, his deep voice breathy.

I lean into him and fumble at the buttons of his shirt. The top one refuses to open and I let out a small snarl of frustration. I pull hard until the button breaks in half with a snap and then ease Sherlock's shirt from his shoulders. The material catches on his folded wings and I reach round to untangle it. As I do my fingers brush the edge of one wings, ruffling the delicate feathers. The effect the touch has on Sherlock is startling and I find myself staring at my hands in disbelief that I could have caused him to feel anything so intense. A small grin spreads across my face. Apparently the wings of an Engifted are incredibly sensitive...hmmm I could have some fun with this.

Sherlock lets out a low moan and closes his eyes, tilting his head upwards in ecstasy. His hands on my body go still and his wings tremble violently. "Sherlock?" I murmur quietly, "you alright?" He lets out a groan but otherwise doesn't reply. Who knew I could have such an affect on him? Experimentally I slide my hands down his back and carefully touch my fingertips to where his wings fuse into his skin. The feathers are soft as silk and warm to the touch. Though they may be black I feel no fear. After everything we have been through together I know with certainty that Sherlock would never hurt me.

In response to my touch a shudder runs through Sherlock and he buries his head in my shoulder, muffling a low sound of pleasure. With a gentle rustling sound Sherlock's wings unfurl and curl around the two of us until we are lost in our own little world. This feels so right, like we are two puzzle pieces who fit perfectly against one another... all thoughts are then driven from my head when Sherlock crushes his lips against mine, the intensity of his desire and passion taking my breath away. A feeling of warmth floods through me, coming from Sherlock who is glowing. Though unlike the last time the glow is golden not black and I stare at it for a moment. His wish is already coming true. Though I still feel a little sad he would change himself for me I am honestly glad to see the back of Thanatos. That side of Sherlock was terrifying.

I feel my knees go weak and would have fallen if it wasn't for Sherlock's arms around me. Sherlock breaks off the kiss and looks down at me, his face flushed and his eyes gleaming. "Maybe we should move this to the bedroom before it escalates." He murmurs, leaning down to lightly nuzzle the side of my neck. "The living room floor won't be the most comfortable of places."

My heart skips a beat and I swallow hard. Even having to wait a few more seconds is hard. I want Sherlock's bare skin against mine, I want to feel him inside me. I take a breath and somehow manage to control myself. "Your bedroom is closer." I reply, biting my lip as a wave of sensation floods through me.

As though he can read my thoughts (likely because he is after all to tell a lot about a person just by looking at them) a slow, almost predatory grin spreads across his face. In one easy movement he lifts me off the ground, his wings still wrapped around me and carries me through the flat. When he momentarily pauses to push open his bedroom door I rest my head on his shoulder and breathe in his warm, comforting smell. With Sherlock by my side I have nothing to fear. When I am with him I am home.