Sherlock had not fed for four days. Not long, but enough to make him question his control around John. He tried to eat actual food, but it did nothing to satisfy the aching hunger for blood. He needed more and Mycroft couldn't get him any until next week. His brother was useless sometimes. If only he had been able to catch Victor none of this would have happened.
He found Victor at the abandoned house. Sherlock had been watching it for some time. Hoping Victor was stupid enough to return, and he did not disappoint. Sherlock watched as the man landed on the roof without a sound. He jumped down the hole that was caused by the ceiling collapsing. Sherlock had a feeling this was a trap, but he needed to catch Victor before he hurt John. He couldn't risk anything happening to the doctor.
Waiting a few moments to see if Victor planned to leave, Sherlock finally moved from his hiding spot. He silently crept up to the house and entered the same way Victor did. The man was waiting for him. He was casually leaning against the door frame of the bedroom. A look of amusement on his face. It made Sherlock's stomach twist, remembering that expression when they were "together". He always hated it.
"Took you look enough, Sherl," He smirked.
"I don't suspect you will come willingly?" Sherlock said calmly, ignoring the old nickname. He was on alert though, prepared for Victor to attack.
"You're not stupid Sherlock, so don't pretend to be. You didn't do what I asked, and this meeting is your last warning. Call off your dear brother so I may continue my work." He said casually.
"What work? You're killing random people," Sherlock glared. He didn't like not knowing things. Victor started laughing, causing Sherlock's anger to rise.
"You haven't changed at all. It's just like uni all over again. Aside from the fact that you're not drugged out of your mind. I bet you miss it, don't you? Being free of all that noise running through your head. It was so refreshing, wasn't it?" Victor taunted. "That's what fresh blood is like, you know? I'm sure you don't. Your brother seems to want to keep vampires in the shadows. It's ridiculous really. Vampires are better in every way and your brother wants to keep them a secret. Typical government officials. Taking the fun out of everything," He ranted on.
"So, you want to bring our kind to light?" Sherlock glared.
"You are thinking too simple. I'm disappointed Sherl, tsk, tsk," Victor shook his head as he clicked his tongue. "You are half correct, the other half doesn't matter for now. What does matter is your little hunting game with me. Back off Sherl, I already got to John once. Well, twice." He smirked looking at the pile of rubble on the floor, "I can do it again, easily." He warned.
"I can't do that Victor. Not this time. You threatened John after I became a vampire, and it has captured my interest. So, all I ask is why did you threaten John when you found out I lived? Are you afraid of me?" Sherlock smirked unfazed by Victor's threat.
"Nothing to do with you, Sherl. Sorry to disappoint, I was trying to get to Mycroft. He's always protected you. I'm just using that to my advantage. I could care less about you. Though I must say. I have missed this," He chuckled and moved away from the bedroom, "So back off or I will go too far," He added. A note of a hidden meaning that Sherlock knew. The man was referring to their time at uni, when Victor would always make Sherlock call out the safe word. He would always take things too far. It was a game of his. Sherlock just snarled at him, he just wanted to rip his head off, "Pity, I was really hoping to avoid this, Sherl. I mean, John is a nice guy, and a great kisser. Don't really understand how he puts up with you." Victor shook his head and jumped out of the house.
Sherlock's temper rose, he followed Victor, determined to catch him. He was a lot faster than Sherlock. It could have something to do with the fact that Sherlock had not fed in a few days. He ignored the thought and pushed forward. He needed to catch him before he did anything to John. Of course, Victor would harm John either way. He wasn't stupid but he hated that he had to be stubborn in this situation. He just couldn't show Victor any weakness. Sherlock would not give Victor that satisfaction of it anymore.
Victor was trying to lose Sherlock, but he found that the man wasn't going to give up easily. So, he went with his backup plan. He stopped abruptly causing Sherlock to run into him at full speed. Sherlock was too close to Victor to stop himself or change directions. He ran right into the man. It was like hitting a brick wall. Unprepared for it, the force of running into Victor knocked him out cold. Three hours later Sherlock awoke. Victor was gone and so was his scent.
Now Sherlock knew where the monster went. He drained Sherlock's supply so Sherlock would be weak and tempted to drink from John. He needed to stay away from the man. It was easy around other humans. John, not so much. He just had to stay away from John for a week at the most. Not too difficult…or so he liked to think.
Mycroft's supply was late. It was late! He was told it would be here today, but the shipment was canceled at the last minute. He had not told Mycroft that Victor took the last of his supply. He didn't think he needed to but now he was starting to regret it. Mycroft would have made sure it was here on time. There was no telling when he would actually get his supply. It had been a week and a half. He had not fed and staying away from John was becoming difficult.
He was always around. Sitting, reading, blogging, eating, drinking tea, and just…just there! His blood was driving Sherlock mad. He was going to drink the man dry any day now. He was becoming desperate. For a brief moment Sherlock thought of asking Lestrade for blood. Then thought better of it, he was Mycroft's mate. He didn't want to even think of what they did together. Disgusting. He had two options.
Tell Mycroft he needed blood now or he would kill John.
Ask John if he could drink from him.
Number two was sounding better and better as time wore on. It didn't involve talking to his brother and it would show John that he wasn't lying. It was really a win-win. John had been moody these past couple of weeks and this was going to fix all that Sherlock was sure of it. Besides he needed full strength if he was going to protect John from Victor. The man had not made himself known since his last encounter, but Sherlock knew he would be around soon.
Deciding this was a sound and logical plan-though he would be thinking differently if he had actually fed-. Sherlock got up from his bed and walked into the sitting room. Where he found his doctor. He was currently reading the paper. Sherlock took his chair across from him. John didn't even acknowledge Sherlock, of course he was still upset.
"John," Sherlock started. The man made a noise of acknowledgment but did not put the paper down. Sherlock sighed but continued, "I have a favor to ask of you," he said slowly.
This caused John to fold his paper and look at Sherlock. For the first time in a few days. The man looked sickly, like he had not eaten in weeks, but that couldn't be the case. John had seen the man eat some Thai take-away the other day. Sherlock shouldn't look this bad. Either the detective was sick or doing drugs. He really hoped that Sherlock was just sick.
"Are you alright Sherlock?" John finally asked, worried. He ignored Sherlock's request for a favor. "You aren't sick, are you?"
"No, no I'm perfectly healthy. Now-."
"Sherlock," John interrupted with a heavy sigh, "Are…are you using?" he asked warily. He knew it was all wishful thinking that the detective was sick.
"What? No!" Sherlock glared.
"Then explain your appearance. It's one of three things: malnourishment, illness or drugs. I've seen you eat the other day, and you say you aren't sick. So, the only conclusion is drugs." John said firmly, giving Sherlock a hard look. Sherlock couldn't help letting a small smile graze his lips.
"I'm flattered that you have been watching me so closely, John." Sherlock teased but John's hard look did not waver, "It's not drugs, it's malnourishment. Yes, you have seen me eat but I need something else. My supply from Mycroft has not arrived yet and it's been a week and a half," Sherlock grumbled.
"What are you going on about?" John had a feeling he was missing something. Sherlock was talking as though John knew what he was saying. Not a first but still annoying.
"Blood John, I need blood." Sherlock said bluntly. John rolled his eyes and picked up his paper.
"Not this again Sherlock," He mumbled as he tried to find the article he was reading before Sherlock interrupted him. Sherlock balled his hand into a fist trying to control himself. He needed John to believe him.
"John I-." Sherlock started but was interrupted by the front door flying open. Sherlock and John both snapped their attention to the front door. No one was there, "John, get out of here!" He ordered, knowing that Victor was there. Sherlock stood and was at John's side. He was about to pull John up from the chair when he was shoved away. Flying down the hallway, smashing through his bedroom door and crashing into his wardrobe. The impact knocked Sherlock out, briefly.
"Sherlock!" John called. His voice sounded strained, and his blood sounded like it was quivering. He was scared. Sherlock opened his eyes, knowing that he needed to save John. What he saw made his skin crawl.
Victor had John in front of him. Both of John's arms were behind his back and Victor's other hand was on his throat. A sharp nail was grazing his skin every so often. A threat that he would cut John's throat. Sherlock pulled himself out of his wardrobe getting to his feet, John sighed in relief that the man was okay, and Victor smirked.
"Tougher than I thought, seeing how you haven't fed in over a week," Victor praised. Sherlock glared at him. He was vaguely aware that his head was bleeding. It didn't matter now. He needed to get Victor away from John.
John watched as Sherlock took a step ending up at the end of the hallway. Just like that. How on earth? John thought, staring at Sherlock in disbelief. He was just in his room and now he was a few feet away in an instant. It couldn't be true. John thought as he studied Sherlock. He was stiff, almost uncomfortably so. His forehead had blood running down it from his hairline and he had a murderous look on his face.
"Let. Him. Go." Sherlock ordered, causing Victor to laugh. His grip tightened on John's neck and the man winced.
"Sherl, Sherl, Sherl you were warned far too much. I can't go back on my word. John will die," At this John started to struggle against Victor, "Ah, ah, ah John stay still!" He ordered and John stopped. Sherlock could hear that his blood sounded muffled again. He was in a trance now, "Good, now as I was saying. John will die but not by my hand," He smirked. Victor opened his mouth, fangs extracted, and strike at John like a vapor attacking it's prey. Sherlock watched as Victor's fangs punctured John's neck. Sherlock felt his stomach drop.
"Pirate, pirate!" Sherlock shouted. Hoping that was what Victor wanted. For Sherlock to give into him like he used to, but the man didn't stop. He continued drinking from John. Sherlock was unsure what to do. Not thinking Sherlock rushed at Victor hoping to get him away from John.
Instead of helping, Sherlock's attempts were prevented by Victor. While still attached to John he grabbed Sherlock's arm and threw him against the wall like a ragdoll. The detective dented the wall and landed hard on the sofa. He was too weak. John was in pain, and he couldn't do anything about it.
The pain from the bite caused John to break out of his trance. He let out a groan of pain, but he wanted nothing more than to scream in agony. His body felt like it was on fire on the inside. He would like nothing more than to scream and thrash about, but he willed his body to stay still. He wasn't about to show Victor how much he was affecting him.
Sherlock winced at the sound of John's blood as the detective struggled to stand again. It was shrieking from the pain of the bite. Mycroft told him if a human was unwilling to give their blood it would be painful for the human. Judging by the sound of John's blood it was extremely painful. He was amazed that the doctor himself barely made a sound of pain.
John was released from Victor's hold. He didn't drink a lot from John, but it was enough to make the man woozy. John's legs gave out on him and Victor just let him drop. He knew the doctor wouldn't be able to do anything now. Turning his attention back to Sherlock, he could tell that he wanted to sink his teeth into the ex-army doctor. But he was holding back.
Well, that certainly would not do. Victor knelt next to John and ran his nails against his neck once again. Then he pressed into John's neck causing him to bleed more. John hissed in pain but didn't move away from Victor. Lacking the strength.
Sherlock stiffened. John's blood was no longer shrieking, it was now quivering with fear. Sherlock knew he shouldn't be so tempted to taste John when he was scared but he was. He stepped back and Victor noticed. He snarled at Sherlock and was in front of him in a second. He grabbed Sherlock by his hair and pulled him towards John. Sherlock struggled but lacked strength compared to Victor.
"Come on Sherl, I know you want a taste." Victor growled and he forced Sherlock onto his knees.
John was so close to Sherlock it was uncomfortable. John was holding his neck, applying pressure so the bleeding would stop, and looking at Sherlock in a daze. The man lost more blood than he thought. Victor only bit him for a few moments but that didn't mean he didn't drink a lot. He was vaguely concerned that John had lost too much blood. His main concern was trying not to bite the doctor himself.
Victor pulled on Sherlock's hair causing the detective to hiss showing his fangs in an attempt to warn Victor. All it really did was cause John to frantically scoot away from his flatmate. Sherlock felt a ping of hurt when he heard John's blood quiver more. He was scared of the detective. John now realized what Sherlock really was and if Victor was the same thing. Then he needed to be far away from both of them.
"Don't you just love the sound of fear? It makes their blood taste all the more delicious." Victor chuckled as he adjusted Sherlock closer to the doctor.
Sherlock was so close to John now. He could see the man's frantic plus and that with the smell of his blood was intoxicating. He licked his lips, managing to get a drop of blood from John off his neck. His pupils expanded. John's blood was the most amazing thing he's ever tasted. Sherlock lost all control. He needed more. His fangs extracted he was so close. He just needed to move a few more inches.
Victor suddenly pulled Sherlock away from John. His hold on his hair was released soon after causing Sherlock to turn around. Mycroft was restraining Victor. They made eye contact for a moment, breaking Sherlock's focus from John for a moment. It was enough to snap his control back into place. He desperately ached for another taste, but he was in charge of his transport. It was not in control of him.
Sherlock got to his feet, going to the kitchen quickly. He returned his attention to the sitting room to find Lestrade knelt next to John and Mycroft adjusting his hold on Victor. The man was struggle against him, but Mycroft held fast. How did Sherlock not notice when they arrived?
"Gregory, could you please take Dr. Watson out of the room? I don't think my brother has much control left." Mycroft said as he watched his brother. Lestrade was helping John up but once he was to his feet the doctor ripped his arm out of Lestrade's grasp.
"John, it's okay, I just want to help." Lestrade assured him, but John shook his head and stepped away from the man.
"I'm fine," John sounded weak. His face was pale and had a thin layer of sweat, but his expression showed determination. He turned his attention to Sherlock and glared, "Was that what you were asking for? To drink from me like that? Why on earth would you ever think I would willingly go through that pain? H-Have you lost your fucking mind?" John's breath was raised, and he was struggling to stand. He applied more pressure on his neck, but it didn't seem to be helping.
"You told him?" Mycroft's eyes narrowed at his brother who was currently death gripping the counter.
"Damn right he told me. Not that I fucking believed him. I still didn't when he said he needed blood. It wasn't until he showed up that I realized Sherlock was telling the truth." John took a deep breath. He swayed back slightly and Lestrade reached for him, but John batted him away. "Answer me Sherlock," John demanded as firmly as he could. The room was starting to blur around him, but he wasn't going to let this go. Not this time. He felt an uncontrollable rage and he wasn't exactly sure why. He just needed Sherlock to answer him.
"Oh Sherl, you've pissed off your mate. Tsk, tsk," Victor commented, shaking his head with a smirk on his face. Sherlock didn't acknowledge Victor. He was too busy staying in the kitchen. Mycroft tightened his grip on the man and pulled him out of the flat. He was only gone for a moment. He returned without Victor and stood by Sherlock now holding his arm. He didn't want his little brother to do something stupid.
"John, could we please discuss this when we are both more capable to do so? You can barely stand, let alone speak without being winded. And I am so close to ripping you apart that even speaking makes it difficult for me to control myself." Sherlock said through clenched teeth. John's blood was quivering, screaming and roaring, it sounded like it wasn't sure what it should be doing. It was hard to focus on anything else.
"We are discussing this now Sherlock! I was just fucking bit by a goddamn vampire for Christ sakes! I believe I am entitled to some answers!" John yelled weakly.
"If you don't let this, go for now you will be bitten by another one." Mycroft jumped in, glaring at John, "Sherlock's control is hanging by a thread. So, I suggest if you want to live to hear answers you will leave now." He added threateningly.
John was going to protest but his vision was blurring out more. His knees gave out and collapsed on the floor. His right hand that wasn't holding his neck was placed on the floor so he wouldn't fall completely. He felt himself gasping for breath before passing out.
