It had been three days since Sherlock was "drugged" and John was growing more concerned. Mycroft would not return his calls, and neither was Lestrade. He would think that one of them would bloody call him back with an update.

John placed his phone on the coffee table after another attempt to call Mycroft. John would only call each man once and just hope they would call later. With a sigh, John moved to the kitchen. He needed to keep busy so he wouldn't use his phone again. It was becoming silly how much time John was using thinking about what could have happened to Sherlock. Had he been stabbed? Or worse shot? What if the man needed surgery? John had no way of knowing anything. Mycroft was so vague on the details that he was left with his mind racing.

"John, dear, are you in?" Mrs. Hudson called as she entered the flat.

"Yes, I'm here." John called stepping out of the kitchen to meet the woman in the sitting room.

"Oh good, I brought you some tea and biscuits," She smiled as she placed the tray on the coffee table, "Has Sherlock come home yet?" she asked as she poured tea for herself and John.

"Not yet still working that case. You know how he is," John tried to sound casual as he walked into the sitting room. He didn't want Mrs. Hudson to worry so he told her that Sherlock would be gone a lot for a case. It was believable and the woman didn't question John about Sherlock not being home.

"That man is going to work himself to death," She shook her head and sat down on the sofa, "Why aren't you with him, dear? Don't you need another case for your blog?"

"I wasn't needed for the case. So, I have to wait until Sherlock is done to get a story," John swallowed thickly. Lying to Mrs. Hudson wasn't easy, the woman asked too many questions.

The rest of her visit was spent talking about crap telly, plans for the week and an invitation to dinner. John declined knowing that she was just asking because she thought he was lonely without Sherlock. Which wasn't true in the least. John was fine on his own…really. He just was worried that Sherlock was seriously hurt, that's all. Not missing him or feeling alone whatsoever. At least that was what he kept telling himself.


Sherlock had been going through tedious "training" for the past three days. His brother would come in every day with a bag of blood and increase the brightness of the room. He would stay for hours going over different methods of control and how to focus certain senses. It was as if Mycroft believed his brother, was a complete idiot.

"Mycroft," He growled after his brother explained how he will have to be careful with his strength, "It has been three days and all you've done is babble on and on. Let me out of these handcuffs so I may test myself. You know I would do better with that anyway." Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

Sherlock could feel that he was stronger but was unable to break through the handcuffs. According to his brother he wasn't giving Sherlock enough blood to have full strength just yet. He wanted Sherlock to have control before he let his brother lose.

"I intend to, Sherlock, but I am not going to release you." Mycroft made his way to the door. "There is a reason I didn't give you blood yet. I want to see if you can control yourself when a living person is near you." He explained and opened the door before Sherlock could respond.

The light that spilled into the room made it difficult for Sherlock to see who was entering. Mycroft may be increasing the brightness of his room, but the hallway was brighter. The door closed and Sherlock's eyes adjusted quickly to the once again dim room. In front of him stood Lestrade.

Sherlock was quickly aware of his heartbeat. It was steady, the man was completely calm, interesting. Next Sherlock noticed his smell, it was…different from his brother's. It was more…alive. His fangs extracted and his transport was preparing to attack. It was alarming how much he just wanted to bite the man. Not noticing, at first, he was pulling on his restraints. His transport seemed to have a mind of its own as of late. It wanted to be free so it could get to Lestrade.

"Control yourself, Sherlock. Your thirst is showing," Mycroft ordered. His tone took a hint of warning. Suggesting that if Sherlock did not stop attempting to get to Lestrade, Mycroft will.

Sherlock struggled for a moment to control his arms. With a few deep breaths and blocking out Lestrade's smell, he was able to rest his arms on the chair. His hands twitched every so often, trying to raise itself, but Sherlock refused. He needed to be able to do this so he could return home, return to solving cases, return to John.

"He's getting this faster than you did," Lestrade commented, causing Mycroft to glare at him. Lestrade rolled his eyes, "I had to teach you all this, he gets a vampire to help. Less distractions. If I remember correctly, you almost attacked me five times." He shook his head at the memory.

"Are you quite finished with your little flashback?" Sherlock squeezed his fist closed, finding that speaking made him lose concentration, but just slightly.

"You want me to release you now," Mycroft stated. Turning his attention back to Sherlock. "Afraid I can't do that, not yet anyway. You aren't in full control."

"Of course not, I haven't fed since yesterday. If you would actually give me more than a pint of blood, I would be able to control myself."

"What if you are out of your supply and you haven't fed in a few days? Who's to say you won't attack Mrs. Hudson or John for that matter? If you can't handle this then you won't be able to stop yourself from attacking someone you actually care about. The need to feed outweighs everything. Even your sense of caring for your friends." Lestrade explained giving Sherlock a hard look, "This is the fastest way to learn control. Otherwise, it takes months, and we can't keep you here that long. Especially with John. He's constantly calling Mycroft and myself as is. I don't know how he'll react if he finds that you'll be gone for a few months." Lestrade shook his head knowing he had a lot to answer for with John.

"What have you told John?" Sherlock asked, ignoring everything else Lestrade said.

"You didn't tell him?" Lestrade glared at Mycroft.

"It didn't come up," Mycroft shrugged, "Dr. Watson is under the impression that you were drugged the other night and were hallucinating. I explained I was taking you to a facility to detox. He did not take it well," Annoyance was dripping from his voice. Sherlock smirked. Of course, John wouldn't believe such a ridiculous story.

"Couldn't come up with a better lie?" Sherlock asked, amused.

"At the time no, but it will have to do. Now, I can see that you are faring better with Gregory being in the room." He paused for a moment as he stepped towards Sherlock, "I am going to release you, but if you so much as look at Gregory with hunger in your eyes I will restrain you again." He warned as he pulled the key out of his pocket.

Once unlocked, Sherlock stood and rubbed his wrists slightly. They burned a little from his struggles. He glanced at Lestrade; his heart rate was up just a fraction above calm. Though he was calm he was keeping his distance from Sherlock. He knew from experience that just because a vampire seemed in control didn't mean they were.

"Good, the next test will be difficult." Mycroft started.

"Mycroft you prick, I told you before, if we were going to do this he should be restrained." Lestrade shifted uncomfortably staring at Sherlock. His heart rate was increasing, it was music to Sherlock's ears. Why was it so delightful to hear the heart race?

"He says he's in control. I want him to prove it." Mycroft countered watching his brother.

"You're scared now, aren't you?" Sherlock asked as he took a step forward. He just wanted to hear the man's heart race. It was beautiful.

As Sherlock took a few steps forward Lestrade's heart was getting faster and faster. He wasn't aware of how close he was to Lestrade until his brother grabbed his arm roughly and slammed him against the wall. He grunted and snapped his eyes off Lestrade and turned his attention to Mycroft. His brother's face was contorted into a snarl showing off his fangs.

"This is why you were restrained," He seethed through his teeth. In a blink of an eye Sherlock was in the chair once again…handcuffed.

"Well, that was very sentimental of you," Sherlock grumbled.

"Vampires are very protective of what is theirs," Mycroft said simply as he adjusted his suit.

"Vampires," Lestrade mumbled, rolling his eyes. His heart rate returned to normal now that Sherlock was in the chair. He would never get used to the look of hunger in a vampire's eyes.

"Now then, moving on." Mycroft said as he pulled a knife from his pocket. It wasn't anything intimidating but it could do some damage if used properly. "Gregory hand please," Mycroft said as he held out his free hand.

"You'll heal me, right?" He questioned as he placed his hand in Mycroft's.

"Of course," He smirked and cut into Lestrade's palm. Lestrade winced slightly but showed no other signs of pain.

When the smell of fresh blood hit Sherlock he couldn't help but lose control. He started to thrash about. Using all his strength to get out of the chair and to Lestrade. To add fuel to the fire Lestrade's heart rate increased ten times, due to Sherlock's thrashing. Lestrade was beginning to think that Sherlock would break the handcuffs or the chair itself.

When Sherlock did, Lestrade was not expecting the man to be so fast. He was faster than Mycroft, which was incredible in itself since Sherlock had not fed to full recovery. Lestrade was pinned to the wall faster than Mycroft could react.

Sherlock snarled at the man showing his fangs to intimidate his prey. Lestrade froze in place working on calming his heart and keeping his eyes locked with Sherlock's. Showing fear only makes them want to feed more but before he could calm his heart Sherlock released Lestrade on his own.

Mycroft didn't even have to intervene, Sherlock just stopped. Only glancing at the blood running off Lestrade's hand. He quickly turned away and demanded control of his transport. He will not give into his transport's needs like a wild animal. He was Sherlock Holmes; he could overcome this. Just like he was able to do so with eating and sleeping as a human. He can do so as a vampire as well.

"Are you alright, Gregory?" Mycroft mumbled, sounding concerned. Sherlock never heard his brother use that tone… not on purpose anyway.

"Fine, just fine. Sherlock you okay mate?" Lestrade questioned.

"Yes, I appear to have controlled myself. Even though I wanted to rip your throat out," Sherlock admitted as he turned around, "May I have some blood now?"