The Bloodline Resurrection

by boobearlovesthehipsta

Summary:

This is the new and updated sequel to my other Sherlock fan fiction "The bloodline". You need to read "The bloodline" before you read this; otherwise you will be thoroughly confused!

This story is on hiatus for the moment (writtenSeptember 2012)

Notes:

Hello everyone! This is the new and updated sequel to my other Sherlock fan fiction "The bloodline". Maybe you (probably you that follows me on fanfiction.net) are aware of that I started another sequel to TBL called "Death do not do us apart" but since I lost the inspiration (I couldn't write on it at all) and didn't really have a good plot for it; I decided to make a remake and thus, it became this (with the help of the lovely Firefly here on ao3). I really hope you will like this new story more than the other sequel, and that you will like it as a continuation of 'The bloodline'. Just a quick reminder. It has been about four or five years since Sherlock's death and since werewolf children (in my universe) grow faster than regular children Tim and Astrid are now eleven and eight years old in werewolf years respectively. Just thought I should remind you of that in case you had forgotten. :)

Comments are very much welcome as always!

Chapter 1

---

The sunlight basked its seemingly soft light through the white jalousie that covered John Watson's window. The now awake army doctor slowly opened his eyes with a loud grunt. He was quite annoyed by the sunlight and the fact that his newly bought blinds didn't hinder the light from seeping into his room. John Watson sat straight up on his bed and stared blankly into the nothingness that was his room before he slowly raised himself up from the bed. He went to his desk and greeted his long-lost lover Sherlock like he always did, every morning. It hadn't been a day since the death of his life that he hadn't greetedthe photo of them together with the wolf-pack. Two of his lover'sbest friends were dead; Gregory Lestrade and Molly Hooper. Their frozen, smiling faces stared back at John and the army doctor replied to their forever frozen smiles with a smile of his own, though it didn't reach his eyes. He hadn't been smiling with his eyes since the day his lover left him. How many years was it now since the doomsday? Four? Five? He had almost lost count. The years had just been flying away in front of him – like everything else. He had seen his children growing from age to age, he had been celebrating four birthdays – both at home and at Mycroft's, he had been abroad with them, they had visited Sweden a year after he had finished his book, France - two years after the finishing of the book and later publication of his book, Italy - three years after his unwanted fame and the finishing of the book(his book with the drawings had gotten very positively acclaimed and he had been at signings and whatnot, the people read it as fiction though and no one believed that the story he had written was real) and last, Norway, four years after the book was finished.

This year, the fifth year after the finishing of his book, the Watson family weren't going to go abroad anywhere. Father Watson had been thinking about leaving London, England and to move somewhere else, where the pain of Sherlock didn't hurt him as much as it did right now, though he didn't know what to do yet about it, his children's uncle and pack-mates were living here after all and he wasn't sure his children wanted to leave them just yet.

–

John had come to the recognition that even though he cherished his children and loved them with his whole heart– nothing was the same without Sherlock. He couldn't treasure his life the same way as he had done when he was with Sherlock and the thought saddened him a bit. He had his children, he was still in contact with Mycroft and Anderson and they hung out every now and then, but the thought of those things didn't make him thoroughly happy. The only thing that could make him as happy as ever was the one thing he could never have again. Sherlock. The sound of dripping tears against photograph-paper jerked John back to reality, away from his everyday thoughts about his lost lover. He stared at the torn picture he held in his left hand and let the tears streaming from his eyes fall freely. He didn't want to wipe them away, they were a friendly reminder to him that he was still alive. John stared at the picture for a moment before the all too familiar excruciating pain in his chest exploded like a newly lit bonfire. John groaned from the pain, his vision getting a bit blurred, his legs shaking as he wiggled where he was standing. He took a tight grip of the desk to not fall down on the floor (like he had done the day before) and took several deep breaths to try to get the pain away while he had his right hand tightly pressed against his heart. This ritual happened on almost a daily basis now. He believed that the pain in his chest was something that had to do with the death of Sherlock, probably a mate thing and the doctor didn't want to explore it further. Not now, at least.

The pain in his chest eased up a bit and he was able to walk and move away from the desktop and out of his room. He tiptoed his way to the bathroom as he didn't want to wake up his children yet. It was their first day of summer holiday and he had promised them to sleep a little longer. They needed their sleep after all, Astrid was eleven years old – soon to be twelve and Tim was eight years old. Tim hadn't been ageing as he should have, even though he should have been around ten years old now, he still looked like an eight or seven year old by his appearance. If someone asked John how old his children were, he usually told them that Astrid was eleven and Tim eight – just to avoid confusion.

John tiptoed into the bathroom and sat down on the small stool in the shower(that was left since he had been in a wheelchair). He turned on the water and let the fluid wash over his naked body, his body that wore scars from a serial killer, his body that wore memories of a dead man. John let out a quiet grunt when his chest started hurting again. He pushed his hand to his hurting heart while he leaned his forehead against the wet mosaic wall. He felt the muscle moving quickly underneath his skin and bones, each beat telling him that he was alive and would continue to be until the day of his death, telling him that the muscle of life would continue to beat– even though the colours of his vision had ran out and turned grey, even though his very existence to keep on living was gone. How do you keep on living when the one thing that made you feel alive, the one thing that made you feel loved, the one thing that made you feel beautiful and happy is gone?

---

Later, same day...

---

The silvery moonlight basked down at Mycroft's private graveyard. The silvery light touched the different graves of the generations of the Holmes family. Before the full moon vanished behind a dark cloud, it basked its last rays of light on a grave that was still in good shape even though it had been standing there for a couple of years. When the moon went behind a cloud, something started to stir inside the grave. Suddenly a big, dark brown furry paw popped out of the mud, then another just as big as the first one popped up, together they started digging through the mud with sharp claws. In a matter of seconds, a big and furry wolf head popped up and surveyed the area with glowing, amber coloured eyes. It jumped up from the deep hole and when it had reached the ground, it shook the mud out of its fur and started trotting towards the Holmes mansion, like digging itself out of a grave was nothing special.

"As expected..."Mycroft whispered as he saw his younger brother standing in the entry, waiting for a sign to go inside on a TV-screen. Mycroft opened the big door and Sherlock went in. When he was inside, he transformed back into his human-form.

"I've missed you so much..." Mycroft whispered when his brother came into the doorway and embraced him tightly. "I have been waiting all these years for you to come back..." he added, digging his fingers deeply into Sherlock's damp hair.

"I have missed you too brother,"Sherlock murmured, answering the hug.

"For a moment I thought you were never coming back, but yesterday, when the Moon showed its full face for me, I suddenly knew. I knew that you were coming back,"Mycroft murmured and let go of his brother's embrace. Sherlock nodded slowly and scratched his ear.

"My body has been well preserved, thank you," Sherlock said quietly, kissing his brother's cheek with his dry lips.

"No problem at all, brother dear," Mycroft replied, stroking his cheek carefully.
"I assume you would like to have something to eat and to clean yourself?"he asked, smiling warmly.

"Yes, that would indeed be nice," Sherlock said and Mycroft nodded.

"So shall it be. I would like you to tell me everything that you have been through these years in the Other world after you have washed and areeating."Mycroft added, his younger brother nodding as an answer.

"Of course," he said and went away to the luxury shower. Anthena prepared some food for him while he was in the shower and Mycroft watched her every moment. He would never let anything happen to her; he would not fail her as he had Lestrade. Sherlock quickly came back into the room, disrupting Mycroft from his thoughts. Sherlock's skin was glistening with white again, his curls back to their ordinary lush brown colour and his right eye now sparkling with life. His left eye though, was still just a hole.

"You look great, brother dear," Mycroft said when he saw his sat down at the big table and ate to his heart's content.

"Would you like to tell me now?" Mycroft asked when Sherlock had finished eating and the younger man nodded.

"When I passed away, I was greeted with open arms by Fenrir. He told me how glad he was that I finally had joined him and he instantly wanted me to get properly dressed for the cleansing process, although I told him that I did not want to be cleansed yet. I wanted to mourn over that I had been slaughtered to death, and to mourn that I would never meet my children nor seeJohn again. He let me mourn for a week, then he told me that I needed to be cleansed, which I was soon enough. Later on, we ran over the green fields of Forever for five years. I had no thirst nor hunger, my body did not tire out and by each year that passed, my body got stronger and it slowly began to heal itself. At the last month of the seventh year, I asked Fenrir if I could be allowed to go back to this world, because I have children and a husband that need me and that I did not want to leave them just yet. He burst out in anger. He told me that I belonged to him and the Other world and that I would not be accepted to return to this world, even though I wanted to. I believed him at first, though I mulled it over for a year before I came to the conclusion that I was able to return, since my role here was not finished. I told Fenrir about my conclusion and the next night, he said that I was allowed to return, though he would miss me deeply. I embraced him like an old friend and said that I would return soon enough, but together with my children and husband. I also told him that I had plans on transforming John into one of us, and he thought it was a good thought, since John won't be able to come to the Other world if he is not one of us," Sherlock explained, his hands closed in a prayer-like gesture. His gaze rested on Mycroft.

Mycroft looked at his brother in awe. He would love to meet Fenrir and to run with him over the fields of Forever, though he knew it was too early for him to do so yet.

"I am glad you were able and allowed to resurrect," said Mycroft with a warm smile playing on his returned the smile and put his hand over Mycroft's.

"I am here again and I will not be leaving for quite a long time,"the younger brother said and the elder brother nodded, his eyes a bit misty. Sherlock stroked his hand softly and looked down at the table.

"Do... John still live at 221B? How is Astrid doing? And my second child? How old are they now? Can I see them?"Sherlock asked, his head suddenly filled with millions of questions about the ones he loved the most.

"John still lives at 221B, though he told me yesterday when we spoke that he is thinking about moving away from London, in fact from the whole of England because he can't deal with the pain of not having you in his life anymore. I have not seen Astrid for about a month now, although I think she is doing perfectly fine. Your second child is named Tim and as with Astrid, I have not seen him for quite a while, although I am sure that he is doing perfectly fine as well. Astrid is elven years old now, soon to be twelve while Tim is eight years old. Though he is actually eleven years old. John tells everyone he is eight due to his size. I am not sure if you can see them right now as it would be quite a shock for everyone if you just came by and knock on their door," Mycroft stated and Sherlock chuckled a little.

"Yes... I understand I cannot do that. But why would John do that? He is our son and even though he looks like eight years old, he should still be referred as eleven years old." Sherlock said.
"I agree with you brother, but you ought to talk with John about that." Mycroft said. Sherlock nodded, it suddenly looked like he was pondering over something else.

"John... Does he have... a new lover or..something?" Sherlock asked after a couple of minutes, seemingly nervous of the answerand annoyed by the thought of John being with someone else.

"I do not know, brother dear. John has not visited me for a month now and even if he had a lover, I don't think he would speak to me about it. I think he would rather speak with Anderson about concerns like that. So I would not know about it. You could call him I guess, though it would be better to meet him in person... I think the best thing you could do right now is to call Anderson and make him answer your questions. He knows the answers far better than me," Mycroft said. He didn't want to tell Sherlock about the 'thing' that happened earlier today, and he didn't want to tell him that his children in fact were sleeping in his estate.

"All right. Uh... May I borrow your phone?" Sherlock asked and Mycroft chuckled at his brother's dullness.

"Of course, brother dear," he said softly and handed Sherlock his phone. Sherlock stared at it for a moment with excitement before typing to Anderson:

I think you are aware that I am revived. I think we should meet up tomorrow at your house.Does threeo'clock sounds good to you? Please answer as fast as you can. - SH

That is right my old buddy! God, I never thought I would receive a text from you again! Three o'clock is great for me. You are very welcome! - Anderson

"What did he say?" Mycroft asked softly when Sherlock's mobile phone gave off a buzz.

"He said that it is perfectly fine that I'm coming to him tomorrow",Sherlock replied and smiled at his brother. Mycroft nodded slowly and softly put his hands on both sides of his baby brother's head. Sherlock looked at him and gave him a small smile.

"I am so relieved and so glad that you have returned brother dear. I really am. I thought I would never see you again..." Mycroft whispered slowly, his eyes gleaming a bit by the tears in the corner of his eyes, threatening to flow over any second. He stroked away a dark brown curl from Sherlock's face, then he gave his brother a kiss on his forehead. A soft sob could be heard from Mycroft as he released Sherlock's head. Sherlock stretched out his arms and hugged his brother tightly.

"It's unnatural for me to see you cry..."Sherlock murmured softly against his brother's neck. "You haven't been crying since... Since mummy died..." he added and closed his eyes. Hedrew the familiar smell of his brother into his lungs. Mycroft's smell was home for him. He was finally home. In one of homes anyway, John was his other home...

---

Earlier that day...

---

"Daddy, how are you?" Astrid asked her father as the man came limping out from the bathroom; his face looked like "Ghost face" from Scream. She was dressed in an all too big Kiss shirt, probably 'stolen' from John's wardrobe.

"Oh Astrid, my dear" he said softly to his daughter. Hesquatted down in front of her and hugged her tightly with one arm, the other one held onto a towel that covered his genitalia. Astrid hugged him back with her thin arms. "I am doing so-so..." John replied after a while, he didn't like to lie to his children.

"Why only so-so?"Astrid asked with a worried gaze and released him. Her eyes had the same colors as his, grey tinted with a light blue color.

"I am thinking about your fatherand it saddens me." John said truthfully and kissed her red, curly scalp before going with small steps to his room.

Astrid followed him.

"Why does it sadden you? You know he is still with you and will always be." Astrid said while she jumped up on his bed, watching her father dressing himself in a wine-red knitted jumper with white deer-prints and dark blue jeans.

John scrubbed his hair with the towel before answering.

"I know dear, it is just that I don't have him here..."said John and gestured with his arms in front of him. "... with me."

Astrid nodded. Sheunderstood what he meant and she wanted to have her second father here as much as John wanted to as well.

John sat down on the bed beside her.

"Though I am so glad I've got you and Tim, you're so much like him and you remindme of him every day, in a good way of course." John said and caressed his daughters red, long curly hair.

Astrid smiled at him and put her arms around him, hugging him again.

"I love you daddy, I love you so much.", she said and Johnfelt a sting of warmth and love in his stomach.

"I love you too Astrid." he said and held her tight to his chest. The pair just sat and hugged for a couple of minutes before John asked Astrid if she knew Tim was awake but she didn't know.

"Then let's go and wake him up." John said and took hold of Astrid's hand; together they went to Tim's bedroom.

"What would you like to eat for a very late breakfast?" John asked his children as they sat down by the table.

"Pancakes." Tim said at once.

"Nooo please, not pancakes!"Astrid said with aversion in her voice. They had eaten pancakes for breakfast two days in a row and she was tired of it.

"No pancakes all right." John said, watching his two children on each side of the table.

Tim stretched out his tongue at his sister and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Then I don't want anything to eat."he said stubbornly.

"You've got to eat my love, otherwise you won't grow." John said with slight worry in his voice. Tim hadn't been eating properly the last few days and he had gotten a bit thin.

"I don't want to eat anything otherthan pancakes."he said with a pout, staring angrily at his sister with his green/blue eyes. He looked exactly like Sherlock, just much younger. The sight of Sherlock inside his child made John's eyes tearup.
He quickly turned around to grab some paper to wipe them away, when thepain in his chest struck him like a bolt of lightning. The sudden pain caused John to fall helplessly down on the floor.

"Dad!"Astrid and Tim screamed in unison and came running to him. They put their hands on his back and looked at him worriedly. Tim tried to fight off tears that had started to flow from his eyes.

"Call Un...Uncle Mycroft and 999... Hurry..." John managed to say, the pain almost too much, making it hard for him to speak properly. Astrid hurried up on her legs and ran to the telephone to dial 999. The fear of losing the only father she had left made her skin burn hot. Shestarted to see black blobs in front of her eyes when she felt a transformation to wolf was near. She quickly dialled 999 and explained where they were and what had happened before she couldn't hinder the transformation any longer. Her limbs started to crack and transform, her spine grew longer and the bones in her face shaped into something else. The phone flew down on the floor with a loud bang. Astrid slumped down on the floor by the transformation impact before hurrying up on her legs again. She went over to John and pushed her furry face to his cheeks, whining loudly. John didn't take notice of her; he had his eyes closed and his teeth gritted.

Pain pain pain pain was the only thing he could hear and feel.

Tim was running around upstairs searching for his father's phone. He ran sobbing into John's bedroom and found John'sphone lying on the bed. He picked it up and called Mycroft. The older brother Holmes answered after one tone.

"Mycroft! Father he is..." Tim started telling Mycroft but he got interrupted by the older man.

"I know. You have called 999?" Mycroft asked.

"Yes, Astrid just did and I think she transformed. Please come over here and help us!"Tim sobbed, completely panic-stricken.

"Take it easy and try to make Astrid calm down and transform into her ordinary self. I will come as fast as I can."Mycroft said and cut the call.

Tim ran downstairs and saw his sister and father lying on the floor. John's face was as white as snow; italmost looked like it was glowing on its own in contrast to Astrid's red fur.

"Uncle is on his way." Tim said, still sobbing. He sunk down beside his family and tried to hug them both with his short arms.

The door suddenly opened and Mycroft, together with Anthena, came through the doorway. Astrid quickly ran upstairs to transform herself and to put on some clothes. Sirens from the ambulance they had been waiting for could be heard from outside. Mycroft went over to John and lifted him up in his arms. He carefully carried him to the waiting ambulance. Tim followed him and Astrid came outside a moment later.

"The ambulance will take John to the hospital and there, they will help him, all right? In the mean time, me and Anthea will take care of you." their uncle said softly to them and patted their heads lovingly.

Astrid nodded slowly. She turned her gaze to Tim, whom was still crying, and brought him into her arms.

"Daddy will be okay, I promise..." she promised to her brother and carefully wiped his tears away with his arm sleeve.

Tim nodded slowly and looked at her with big, teary light green eyes.

"I hope so...", he said in between his sobs and put his arms around his sister's body.

"I promise..." Astrid whispered softly.

The ambulance quickly drove away with John with its sirens blinking and screaming. Mycroft, Anthea, Tim and Astrid went into Mycroft's private car and hastily drove to the Holmes estate. When they arrived Mycroft's servants had already prepared some breakfast for the children and they ate in silence.

Later in the evening, the children went to bed and when the clock struck midnight, Mycroft felt something inside him ease up. Suddenly, he knew that his younger brother had awoken from the dead.

"Anthea."he said to his mate while he was looking out on the moonlit graveyard through the window.

"Yes, Mr. Holmes?" she asked.

"Keep an eye on the children and do not let them hear Sherlock's arrival."he said to his mate and she nodded, understanding the situation and she quickly made her way to the children's rooms.

"I will let the children meet their father later, when he has spoken to Anderson and has heard what happened with John..."Mycroft thought before he went downstairs to open the door to welcome his brother.

Chapter 2

Sherlock sat straight up on his bed with his breath stuck in his throat. Something was not right. He knew it since his whole body was shaking; it told him something, something that he couldn't deduce.

Sherlock went up from his bed and dressed himself in one of Mycroft's black dressing gowns made of silk, then he quickly went out of his room and headed downstairs. Mycroft was standing in the big kitchen, cooking pancakes judging by the smell. Anthea was standing right next to him with her hand on his shoulder.

"Brother." Sherlock said with a tense voice. He hadn't used that voice in quite a while. Mycroft immediately turned around and met his brother's stare.

"Yes Sherlock?" Mycroft asked with a perked eyebrow, his mouth shrunk to a small pout. Anthea also turned around to look at Sherlock. She took over the pancake cooking from Mycroft.

"You are hiding something from me." Sherlock said with a low growl emerging from his throat. He bared his teeth menacingly at Mycroft; they quickly grew longer as Sherlock allowed his body to transform a little.

"Hiding something from you? Why would I do that brother? And take it easy. Why are you so tense?" Mycroft asked slightly worried and raised his hands in front of him, showing that he didn't want to pick a fight.

This made Sherlock's body tense even more. Tons of fur started to grow on his arms and legs, wolf-ears popped up at the top of his head and his face started to grow longer.

"Please Sherlock, calm down. I do not want to fight you, okay?" Mycroft begged and swung Anthea behind him to protect her from his brother.

"You are hiding something from me!" Sherlock repeated himself. His voice was something in-between a loud human growl and the deep warning growl of a wolf. He went down on the floor, letting out a loud groan with pain when his back cracked and grew longer. He gripped the wooden floor with his growing nails, they carving deep scratches on the floor when they turned thicker and sharper.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft shouted, now angrier and more determined than before. He didn't want his brother to transform, especially not when Sherlockwas angry and especially not when his children were in the house. He would be able to smell them and nothing would stop him from going to them once he did. Mycroft figured Sherlock was angry because Sherlock could instinctively sense that his children were right here in the house but Sherlock didn't understand and couldn't know what it was he was feeling. Mycroft ran towards his brother and put his hands on Sherlock's shivering shoulders.

"Please Sherlock, calm down!" he begged while staring into Sherlock's now amber glowing eyes.

Sherlock answered his begging with a loud snarl and a scratch to Mycroft's left cheek. His claws went deep into the elder man's skin and blood quickly dripped out of the fresh wound. Anthea let out a strangled gasp and was about to run towards Mycroft to help him but she was stopped by her mate's body starting to transform as well. She stepped away from the now two furiously growling wolves and ran upstairs to see if the noise had woken the children and to prevent them from going downstairs if it had.

Sherlock circled around Mycroft with his teeth bared. Mycroft sat down and looked at him with an intense gaze. He wouldn't fight with him, there was no reason and he didn't want to wound him. Now when Sherlock had just finally been revived.

"Tell me! You are hiding something! I can feel it!" Sherlock's voice growled furiously inside Mycroft's head. Mycroft just grumbled at him, but sat still on the floor. He hoped that Sherlock would calm down. Sherlock's ears suddenly pricked and his pupils dilated. He had smelled the scent of his children.

"My children are here and you're not telling it to me?!" Sherlock's enraged voice screamed inside Mycroft's head as the younger werewolf raised himself up to stand on two legs instead of four. Sherlock gave out a deafening roar before he rapidly turned to run to the stairs.

"Sherlock! Stop right there!" Mycroft shouted after him and the smaller werewolf froze right on the spot. Mycroft was finally using his alpha voice even though he hadn't wanted to. He didn't like forcing Sherlock to have to obey just because Sherlock's wolf-mind knew it HAD to defer to his will when he used his alpha authority. He'd much rather use persuasion and reason to get what he wanted from but now was not the time, not when it came to his niece and nephew.

"Turn around and come over here!" Mycroft growled and Sherlock immediately did as his elder brother said.

"I have not been telling you that your children are here because foryour own safety and well-being." Mycroft explained and Sherlock snarled at his words.

"How could telling me that my children are here hurt my safety and well-being?!They are my children! And I haven't seen them for five years! I haven't even met Tim! He was ripped out of my belly and then I DIED!" Sherlock roared. White, milky tears of anger and betrayal streaming down his furry cheeks.

"Could you be quiet just for one minute and let me explain?" Mycroft hissed at him. Sherlock immediately quieted down.

"You see, I did not want this to happen to you here and nowsince I knew how you would react. That is why I wanted you to go to Anderson because you would have taken it better there than here." Mycroft started to explain but he got interrupted by Sherlock opening his mouth.

"No! You keep quiet!" Mycroft growled and Sherlock closed his snout, white tears still streaming down his cheeks. (Werewolves tears are white because they are crying water from the moon when they are in their wolf-form.)

"Yesterday, around midday, your children called me completely panic-stricken because their father was lying on the floor, screaming in pain." Mycroft told his brother. He knew he sounded mean but he was angry at Sherlock because he hadn't listened to him and was now forced to be abrupt. Mycroft raised himself and sat down in front of Sherlock and pushed his forehead on Sherlock's forehead, showing him his memories of yesterday.

"J-John?" Sherlock whispered with a hollow voice. His heart started to ache as he saw the flickering pictures of John lying on the floor in pain before his retina.

"What... what happened to him? What is happening to him? Where is he?" Sherlock asked sheepishly.

"He is dying because the loss of you. A human mate cannot live without the second half of himself that is the werewolf-mate. The second mate that compels him, that makes him whole. You know that, do you not?" Mycroft said, his voice much softer than before.

Sherlock nodded slowly, tears of the moon streaming faster down his cheeks. He slowly reverted back to human, the anger he had felt just minutes ago was gone.

"I do know, it is just that I did not think about it earlier... I mean, I just got back and..." he broke off into silence.

"How can I heal him? How can I make the clock of death stop ticking for him?" he asked when his transformation was complete.

Mycroft turned back to human as well.

"I do not exactly know Sherlock. It is kind of a haze in our history, there exist many ways to make him stop dying, almost too many. Some of them are too dangerous to even speak about. I still think you need to go Anderson. He may have some answers. Otherwise, I do not know, I am afraid." Mycroft said truthfully and Sherlock nodded while wiping his face with some torn pieces of the black dressing gown.

"Do you know where he is now?" Sherlock then asked andlooked around the room to see if there was something he could dress himself with. He saw a red quilt and quickly covered his body with it.

"He is at the hospital, naturally they cannot help him with his pain." Mycroft said and scribbled something down on a yellow note. He handed it to Sherlock.
"His room number, the room's telephone number and visit-times." he explained.

Sherlock took the note in his hand.

"I will get me some clothes, then I will go to my children. After I have been with them, I will go to John and after that Anderson." Sherlock said shortly to his brother before going away.

Mycroft went to one of the bathrooms and cleaned his wound.

"I will be getting a scar from this..." he thought and sighed deeply while he bathed the wound with water and soap. Another scar to add to his collection...

---

"Daddy? Is daddy Holmes alive?" Astrid asked Tim with big eyes and awide open mouth. Tim nodded his dark head.

"Yes. Somehow I can feel it... He is alive..." Tim said and curled close to Astrid.

They had just been woken up by some strange noises from downstairs, though the sounds were pretty dull considering the thick walls around the room. Anthea had entered the room a while ago, though they didn't wake up when she came inside, and was sitting there quietly observing.

"But how? How can you feel that he is alive?" Astrid asked and put her arm around her little brother.

"I don't know, I just do!" Tim said. It was like he could feel his second father coming up the stairs. He did not know how or why, the only thing he knew was that his father was alive.

Suddenly, the two children could hear footsteps walking up the stairs. As soon as Anthea heard the steps she got out of the room. Tim sat up as fast as a pistol-shot on the bed and stared intensively at the door. Astrid looked at him with her head cocked to the side. She was just about to say something to him when the door suddenly opened and a tall, lanky, dark headed man dressed in a very tight buttoned-up shirt and black fine pants stepped into the room. His eyes were the first thing that Astrid recognized. She had seen those eyes before when she was just a baby. Father. Sherlock Holmes. Her father. Astrid screeched out in pure joy before she jumped head over heels off the bed and into Sherlock's arms.

"Father! Daddy! Dad!" Astrid screamed and started crying from joy when her long lost father finally put his arms around her. Tim just stared at the man with awe. He couldn't believe that his father had returned from the dead and that this man in fact was his father. His father that had saved his life in sacrifice of his own.

"I'm here now... I'm here with you... And I will never leave you again..." Sherlock whispered. His voice was thick with overflowing emotions, especially love. It felt like his heart was about to burst in his chest. Astrid buried her face in Sherlock's neck and kept weeping with joy for a while before she stopped and turned around to Tim.

"Come over here and greet your dad." she said softly to her younger brother. She understood that he was a bit scared and stunned, though she really wanted him to greet Sherlock. Tim hesitated for a moment before leaving the bed and slowly making his way to his father. Sherlock looked at him with one of his softest smiles and stretched out his left arm to welcome his son into his embrace. Tim walked to him with shaking legs and finally let his father embrace him. The three hugged for a long time until Tim broke the silence.

"I need to pee..." he said deeply embarrassed and Sherlock almost burst out into laughter.

"Of course you do. Go to the toilet." Sherlock said softly and let him go. Tim hurried to the bathroom.

Astrid looked at Sherlock with admiring, sparkling eyes.

"How did you come back? I thought death was something you never return from." she said with a questionable face. Sherlock smiled at her and stroked her head lovingly.

"I asked Fenrir, all werewolves father if I could return to you and he allowed me to. Though it took some years to convince him..." Sherlock explained quietly while holding his daughter close to his heart.

Astrid shuddered as she listened to her father's life flowing through him; it was something that moved her deeply.

"I'm so happy you're back with us... Daddy has been missing you so..." she murmured and hugged him even tighter.

"I know... I know he has..." Sherlock murmured and drew her sweet smell into his lungs. He would always remember the smell of his daughter. The smell of her made memories of him and John meeting her for the first time back at the werewolf camp flood through his head. His arms were suddenly covered in goosebumps and he hugged his daughter even closer. She was one part of his everything.

"Daddy... Do you know what happened to daddy?" Astrid asked Sherlock, meaning John of course. Sherlock nodded.

"Yes, I do know what happened to him and I will go to him as soon as I have been with you a little more." Sherlock said softly and kissed her forehead.

"May we come with you?" Tim asked very quietly when he suddenly entered the room. Though Sherlock heard him as if he had spoken in normal speak-tone.

"I do not think the doctors would agree on that." Sherlock replied, regretting every word he said but he needed to be alone with his love.

"Why not?" Tim asked with a troubled face and sunk down in Sherlock's lap. Sherlock put his arms around him. Astrid popped up beside Sherlock, holding his hand very tightly.

"Because father needs his peace and quiet. His heart needs to rest you see, and me coming back in full person will be a shock for him and to have you two there with me would just be too much for him." Sherlock explained. He tried to be as honest as possible.

"Okay, we understand Daddy but we'd love to seehim later tonight if the doctors allow that?" Astrid said and looked at Tim whom looked like he had fallen down and scratched his knee badly.

"I will call you as soon as I know. And I will not disappear again. Never." he said and kissed their foreheads and stroked their cheeks.

Astrid nodded, as understanding as ever. Tim let out a small sob though he crawled over to Astrid's lap and curled into a little ball once he had settled himself.

"Do not cry my love, I will come back." Sherlock said softly to Tim and kissed his head. "I promise." he said and Tim nodded slightly.

"You will need to be with your Uncle until I come back, but you do like him, right?" Sherlock said and tried wholeheartedly to not sound cynical, but it was hard since he had some problems with his brother too.

Astrid laughed gently, her laugh sounding very much like John's.

"Of course we like him, don't we Tim?" she said to her brother and he just nodded, smiling a little.

"Good, very good." Sherlock said and gave them a final kiss on their heads before leaving the room and going downstairs.

"I will be going to John now. My children are upstairs. I am sure they want some breakfast." Sherlock said sourly to Mycroft. Mycroft made one of his faces and nodded.

"Yes, master." he said with a snort and Sherlock left the Holmes estate to finally meet up with his Everything.

Chapter 3

"Taxi!" Sherlock called out when a yellow car whisked by him on the main street. The main street was placed about a kilometre from Mycroft's estate. The car slowed down when the driver heard Sherlock's voice and turned around to catch Sherlock up. Sherlock opened the door and went in. Mycroft had offered him a drive but Sherlock had said no. He wanted to get to John on his own.

"Where're ya heading?" the driver asked with a southern American dialect. Oddly enough, it was a woman. She had long blonde hair that was set in a ponytail with a bright red tassel. Her face was round though still thin and was adorned with a couple of cute freckles. Sherlock found himself thinking she was beautiful, not as beautiful as John though.

Sherlock gave the hospital's address to the driver and they eventually arrived after half an hour. Sherlock hurried his way into the hospital, not caring about the hospital personnel coming after him with angry voices telling him to stop.

Sherlock sighed deeply and turned around.

"What?" he said with a tense voice and stared at the two women in front of him.

"You need to go to reception and talk to the personnel over there before you're allowed to go anywhere else," the nurse named Stephanie according to the name tag on her chest told him. Sherlock rolled his eyes and did as she said. After all, he didn't want any trouble; he just wanted to go to John as soon as possible.

He announced who he was, who he was going to visit and that he was the patient's lover to the man in reception. Though he lied about his name because it still remained in his papers that he was dead. If Molly had still been alive, she would have fixed it already...

The man told him things he already knew, like which room number John was in, and then showed him to the intensive care unit to John's room. Sherlock quietly went into the room with his heart beating like a jungle drum. His mouth went dry when he saw John lying on the bed embedded in a cover with different hospital paraphernalia connected to his chest. He was fast asleep. Sherlock tiptoed his way further into the room and put a chair beside John's bed. He sat down and looked at John's face with already crying eyes. He remembered their last night together so clearly.

How he had gathered his last piece of strength to ask John if he wanted to marry him and how John had answered yes. How John had explained how he wanted them to go home and to remember everyone that had fought and passed away in the fight.

The heartbreaking memories became too much to handle. Sherlock took a deep breath and let the memories that streamed inside his head slowly wash away. He was together with John again and nothing would split them apart, not even John's ticking clock. He would stop its ticking for sure.

Sherlock gently took John's hand in his and caressed it slowly. He immediately felt blood rushing to both his face and his lower parts. John was his life's biggest love after all so he couldn't blame his body reacting like that. He still wanted to have John in every way possible and he had deeply missed touching his lover's skin.

John grunted cutely in his sleep and his face seemed to relax a bit when Sherlock touched his hand. A very warm and happy chicken ran around inside Sherlock's stomach when he saw John's face relaxing like that.

"If he only could open his eyes..." Sherlock thought impatiently while continuing to stroke John's hand softly.

It was as if his wish had been heard and granted by someone because John drew a deep sigh before his eyelids started to flutter. Sherlock's heartbeat sped up again and he stared at John with excitement.

A big worry wrinkle formed on John's forehead as he saw Sherlock's face in front of him.

"I must be high. Some doctor must have pumped me with some drug." John thought almost laughing out loud because he was truly going insane. Sherlock couldn't actually be there. It was impossible. Something like resurrection couldn't just happen. It wasn't logical at all.

"John?" Sherlock whispered. John noticed that his voice was very tentative and a bit worried. Of course Sherlock was worried, he was a projection made by John's insane mind after all!

"You're not real. You're not here with me. Miracles don't happen like that. Well, they did when I met you. Every minute I spent with you was a miracle. But something like this? No. God I am rambling to a hallucination! Good going John!" John blabbered, the heart rate monitor connected to his heart beeping faster as the man got worked up.

"John...Calm down please...I am real and I am here with you. I have resurrected, believe it or not though it is true. I am really here. I am not made by drugs or hallucinations. I am here with you." Sherlock said softly to his life. John stared at him for a moment before realizing that Sherlock was in fact there. Tears burst out of John's eyes as he realized that the one thing he had been thinking of and pining for constantly the last five years was sitting right beside his hospital bed. Sherlock was here, Sherlock was back, Sherlock was alive.

"Sherlock...Back..." was the only thing John could say to Sherlock before he literally threw himself at the other man, screaming and crying from pure happiness. One of the electrodes snapped when he jumped into Sherlock's arms but John couldn't care less.

"I don't get how this is even possible but by God I am so happy..." John cried out and held Sherlock tightly to his body. Sherlock dug his fingers into John's hair and cooed at him softly while kissing all over his face, carefully avoiding his lips until the right moment. John was sobbing and laughing, blending together in a charming mix of emotions, before he suddenly stopped with a gasp. Sherlock released his tight hold on John, pulling back slightly to peer into his face worriedly.

"John?" he asked, his voice only a whisper from the emotions storming inside him.

"No...It's nothing…It's just my chest...That's why I am here." John said looking a bit embarrassed.

Sherlock frowned at this. Why was John embarrassed about that? The thought bothered him.

"It is nothing to be embarrassed of my love." Sherlock whispered and kissed John's cheek, pushing his hand softly against John's chest as he was trying to ease the pain.

"Do the doctors know what is wrong with you?" Sherlock then asked, still kissing John's soft face. John shook his head.

"No they don't. Not yet at least. I guess they haven't gone through all of their examinations yet." John replied. "But let's not talk about that." he added.

Sherlock nodded, thinking the same. He didn't want to tell John why his chest was hurting; he needed to speak to Anderson first. They went silent for a moment.

"Sherlock... I love you." John said, breaking the silence.

When John finally uttered the words that Sherlock had been longing to hear once again, since his re-arrival back into this world, Sherlock felt his whole soul beaming, filling with such contentment and happiness that it felt like it was trying to escape through his mouth to reach the vast space outside of his body where it would never have to be contained again.

"John, I love you too." Sherlock whispered and gripped John's hand firmly in his before leaning in towards John's face, giving him the most emotion filled kiss he could manage to do. Both men started weeping from the overflow of emotions and from the deep love they felt for each other. Sherlock deepened the kiss by entering his soul-mate's mouth with his tongue and digging his fingers once again into the back of John's scruffy hair. John answered this by putting his arm behind Sherlock's neck, drawing Sherlock closer, and responding with his tongue as well. Sherlock entangled John's tongue with his and played with it while he moved his hand from John's hair to his neck, rubbing it a little. John moaned slightly into Sherlock's mouth and it sent shivers down the consulting detective's spine. He wanted to have John here and now on the bed though he knew it wouldn't work nor be a good idea and that made him just a bit frustrated. He bit John's lower lip in frustration causing John to moan even louder. Sherlock felt he was close to not being able to control himself so he licked John's lips slowly and sensually before breaking the kiss.

"Sherlock I want you, now, in every way possible right on the bed." John whispered, his voice husky. He licked his lips and looked at Sherlock with dilated pupils. Sherlock grinned smugly.

"I want you too, though no. Your body is not in the right condition and it is not suitable to have sexual intercourse here. Especially not when there is a full moon dangling in the sky outside and with me being a werewolf," he said and nibbled at John's earlobe, teasing him. John moaned.

"Stop teasing me or I will attack you." John breathed out making Sherlock's head spin.

"Oh I can't wait." Sherlock murmured and kissed John's cheek lovingly. He settled John back into his hospital bed carefully before moving back to his chair right beside the bed and seating himself.

John smiled at Sherlock and put his hand on his cheek.

"I'm so glad you're finally here with me Sherlock. I have waited for you so long, or no. I have waited for me to...uh..." John quieted down. Sherlock saw straight through him.

"You have been waiting for you to die? Is that what you want to say John?" Sherlock said. He felt anger flaring up inside him. How could John be so incredibly selfish?! Sure, John was his mate and a mate cannot live without his other part for a long time, but they had children together and John needed to live for them! Sherlock couldn't imagine what would have happened with his family if he hadn't come back... Maybe John would have committed suicide just to be with Sherlock again?

"Yes...Or no...well...It has just been so hard to be without you and since the ache started, everything has just become even harder...but you're back now and well that's the only thing I have ever wished for." John said with his face flushed. It was clear that he was ashamed of what he was saying.

Sherlock decided to leave it be, he really didn't want to fight with John right now. He just wanted them to be together and happy now when they had finally reunited. He nodded as an answer and hugged John tightly.

"I hope you will get out of the hospital soon. I want to hug you without these cords." he whispered and pecked John's lips. John smiled at him.

"I wish that too." he said with a huge yawn.

"You tired?" Sherlock asked softly and stroked John's hair.

"Yeah...The medicines...They make me tired..." he said with another yawn. "Oh, I almost forgot. There will be a doctor coming along here sometime to administer me more medicine." John added and looked at Sherlock with tired eyes.

"I see. I must be going then." Sherlock said softly, thinking it was a good enough reason for him to leave to see Anderson, though he didn't actually want to leave John just yet.

"Please stay...What if you go now and I never see you again?" asked John sadly and reached out his hand towards Sherlock. Sherlock placed his hand in John's and John tightly grasped it.

"You will see me again John. I promise you that." Sherlock whispered, kissing each one of John's fingers before letting go of his hand.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" John asked, his face still a bit sad.

"I think so but I can't promise anything." Sherlock said truthfully. He couldn't actually promise anything about that since he didn't know how much time the visit to Anderson would take.

John nodded, mouth pouting. He was disappointed with Sherlock leaving.

"No, do not use that face..." Sherlock whispered and kissed John's nose.
"I will be back. Believe me," he added and looked into John's beautiful eyes.

John nodded slightly.

"Okay then..." he said, finally accepting that Sherlock was going to leave.

The door opened and a doctor came in.

"Hello there John." the doctor said as he walked closer to John while looking into his journal.

"Hello..." John said, yawning again.

"Getting a bit tired are we?" the doctor asked and looked up from his journal. He looked at Sherlock with a smile.

"Hello." he said to Sherlock and Sherlock greeted him with a nod. The doctor went to John's heart monitor and gave it a quick look before grabbing one of John's IV's. He fiddled with it for a moment. John grew more and more tired with each second the doctor fiddled. When the doctor was done with giving John medicine, he put the electrode back on John's chest again. Sherlock stroked John's cheek and kissed it a last time before he whispered 'goodbye' and left the room.

---

"Welcome Sherlock! I have missed you so much!" Anderson said as he welcomed Sherlock into his apartment. Anderson looked a bit different since the last time they had met. He had gotten a few wrinkles on his face and his hair had grown longer, it reached down to his chest. He had also braided an eagle feather into his hair. He definitely looked more native american-like than before. Sherlock figured it must be some sort of midlife crisis Anderson was going through.

Anderson stretched out his arms and hugged Sherlock tightly. Sherlock hugged him back and chuckled softly.

"I have missed you too Anderson. It is very nice to see you again." he said truthfully with a big grin.

"Oh, I thought I would never hear that from the great Sherlock Holmes." Anderson teased, referring to old times before Sherlock met John and acted like a complete jerk as soon as Anderson was anywhere near him.

"Oh shut up Anderson, you are lowering the IQ of the entire street." Sherlock quoted himself and Anderson laughed out loud.

"It is truly nice to see you again." Anderson said softly and the two men went further into the apartment.

Different kinds of werewolf appurtenance from different cultures and myths were spread around Anderson's apartment. For instance, he had different kinds of Indian dreamcatchers hanging from the roof of every room they went through. Finally, they reached his library room. Bookshelves covered every wall of the room and in the middle of the room was a small, round table with two chairs facing each other. On top of the table was a lit candle and from the ceiling hanged a faintly glowing lamp.

Anderson sat down on one of the chairs and told Sherlock to do the same, which he did.

"Okay Sherlock...I guess you want to hear about John?" Anderson presumed and looked calmly at Sherlock.

"Well, I already know about him. Mycroft and I had a fight yesterday and...Well...Mycroft told me John is dying." Sherlock said a bit awkwardly and looked at Anderson with sad eyes.

"Ah. That's completely right." Anderson said with a nod.

"Why? Or, uhm, I know why, though I do not understand how he can still be alive? Should he not be dead already, given that he has been without me for five years?" Sherlock asked bewildered. He steeples his hands together and leaned his chin on them.

"Yes, he should already be dead. If a werewolf dies, the connection between the wolf and his human mate are cut and the human mate's body slowly breaks down and then about a month or two after the werewolf's death, the human mate dies. But you know what? I think that it was John's stubbornness that helped him to keep on living. Even though he had lost the very thing necessary for his existence he kept on living because he knew he had to take care of your children and that you didn't want him to kill himself. But now when he had come to the conclusion that he actually couldn't survive without you, the death sentence started and there is nothing that can stop it." Anderson explained slowly with a soft voice.

"Nothing that can stop it? But Mycroft said yesterday that a lot of possibilities exist to stop him dying. That is the very reason I am here! To find a way to make John continue to live!" Sherlock exclaimed and didn't think about the fact that he may have sounded very rude.

Anderson grimaced, hurt by Sherlock's words before replying.

"Well there are possibilities for him to continue living...However, many of them haven't been tested yet and a couple that have been don't work," he replied and raised himself from the chair. He went to one of the many bookshelves and started searching for a particular book. He found it after a while and returned to the table, this time standing beside Sherlock instead of sitting in front of him.

Sherlock looked at the old and dusty book. Even though it was dusty, it was still in good shape. It had a leather bound hardcover with beautiful golden depictions of werewolves and humans 'running' around the title.

Anderson opened the book and searched among the register until he found what he was looking for. He opened to the page and showed it to Sherlock.

"Here...Read here." Anderson said and Sherlock started reading where Anderson was pointing.

"If a human's werewolf mate has passed away, the connection between the human mate and the werewolf is broken and the human mate will slowly die by different kinds of usually benign sicknesses, often heartache and memory loss. The human mate will die approximately a month after the werewolf's death. On rare occasions the human mate can survive a little longer without his/her mate though it always ends the same, with the human mate dying eventually."

"This isn't something new Anderson." Sherlock growled angrily at his friend while shaking his head and closing the book. "He is doomed to die!" Sherlock shouted out and hammered the table with his fist. "And I just got him back!" he added furiously.

"Now now Sherlock calm down." Anderson cooed and patted his back softly.

"I cannot believe this is happening Anderson. I thought John and I would get our eternity together when I was revived...But now...It is John leaving me instead." Sherlock whispered, his voice broken.

"Hush...easy...I will help you two find a way, okay?" Anderson murmured softly. He kept stroking Sherlock's back.

"But how? There is no way." Sherlock said. He had lost all hope for his and John's future.

"There is a way Sherlock! Mycroft said it and I did too. I will search through my whole library tonight, and if I don't find anything I will search through London's library, and if I don't find anything there I will search through the internet and contact our other werewolf friends." Anderson promised Sherlock.

"Thank you Anderson. Thank you..." Sherlock said thankfully and hugged him tightly. Anderson chuckled softly in response and answered the hug, enjoying every second he could be in Sherlock's arms.

"Before I forget, would you send a text to Mycroft and tell him that I want him to call me later tonight?" Anderson asked when Sherlock released him.

"Of course. What are you going to talk with him about?" Sherlock asked curiously.

"Nah, just a thing I have been researching upon Mycroft's request." Anderson said. Sherlock noticed that he was being very secretive about this and it bothered him. He wanted to know why. He always wanted to know everything about everyone.

"Okay. Would you mind writing a fake counterfeit release form discharge for John? I really want him to get out of the hospital. His doctor's name is Garret and here is his handwriting." Sherlock said and handed him one of the pages from the doctor's journal. He had torn it out when the doctor was occupied with giving John medicine. He knew that Anderson was skilled with imitating others' handwritings.

"Sure. I'd love to help you, but how did you get this paper? And John needs to be at the hospital, doesn't he?" Anderson said and started to copy doctor Garret's handwriting down on a paper.

"I tore it out when Garret was occupied with giving John medicine. And I was thinking you would like to help me with that too. You are skilled with medicine. I am sure you can replicate the medicines they are giving him." Sherlock said and fiddled a little with his phone before texting Mycroft Anderson's request.

"Okay, well you're right. I will do that for you. Give me until tomorrow. Though you can give this to the hospital today." Anderson said and gave him the finished paper with the copied handwriting. Sherlock took it and put it in his pocket.

"But...Won't the doctor find out that I copied his handwriting? I mean, doctor Garret is still alive." Anderson said with a frown.

"Oh...I did not think of that. Shit." Sherlock cursed. "Do you have any other ideas?"

"Maybe you can persuade John with telling the doctors he really wants to go home and will take his medicines at home instead? He is an army doctor after all. They should respect his opinion and I won't need to make the medicines for him." Anderson suggested and Sherlock nodded.

"I hope they will. It is a good idea anyway." Sherlock said with a nod. "I will be going then." he said and Anderson nodded.

"Do so. I will call you as soon as I've got some clues." Anderson replied.

"Yes." Sherlock said, and with that he left Anderson's apartment and went back to the hospital to try to get John out of there.

Chapter 4

"Here you go." John said to the man in reception as he handed him the note with his discharge form.

"Oh. I will give you the medicines you need then," the man said and turned around to look for John's medicine.

The persuasion with John had gone very well. John had almost agreed on it as soon as Sherlock had explained his plans for him. He really wanted to go home and had said that he was sure that he was able to handle taking his medicines on his own. When John told Dr. Garrett that he wanted to go home and have home-care, the doctor had argued about it at first but then John informed him that he was a former army doctor, double-check his chart because it's in there and he promised Garrett that he would send in a status report of his well-being every day. Garrett had still hesitated at this suggestion but quickly agreed when Sherlock came in confirming that he would make sure John sent those reports and practically scaring the hell out of the doctor with his eyes.

The man came back and gave John three different types of medicine bottles. He also gave him five medicine bags for his portable IV.

"When those run out, you need to come here to get new ones, okay? Also, you need to have one of them connected to you all times," the man said and attached one of the medication bags onto the portable IV for him.

"Of course," he said softly, wincing a little at the needle sticking into his vein.

"Then you're ready to go. Have a nice day and remember to call Dr. Garrett if something happens," the man said. John nodded as a reply and Sherlock wheeled him outside to catch a cab forthe both of them.

---

"Welcome home John..." Sherlock whispered into his lover's ear as they entered 221B Baker Street together for the first time in five years. Goosebumps erupted across John's arms when he felt Sherlock's warm breath wafting against his neck. Sherlock noticed John's hair standing on edge and smiled; he loved when John's body reacted to him. Footsteps could be heard in the upper level as Sherlock helped John to carefully climb the stairs, while also carrying John's wheelchair, before helping John back into the wheelchair upon reaching the landing. About 10 seconds after John was resettled two children came running down the stairs.

"Daddies!" The two children screamed joyfully in unison as they hugged their two fathers lovingly. John burst into laughter which made Sherlock laugh as well.

"We are finally united as a family..." John said, his voice thick with joy and emotion as he felt his family's arms around him. His whole family. He still couldn't believe that Sherlock had returned, that he was alive. It was too good to be true.

"Daddy, why are you sitting in a chair on wheels?" Tim asked suddenly while hugging John's legs tightly like a small kitten. Astrid was standing impatiently with her arms stretched to Sherlock; she wanted him to lift her up. Sherlock bowed down and put his arms around her and lifted her up. She put her head to his neck and sighed with satisfaction.

"I sit in this wheelchair so that my heart doesn't get overworked." John replied softly and stroked Tim's black curls. Tim looked at John with big, fascinated eyes before he released John's legs and climbed carefullyup into his lap instead.

"Daddy drive us somewhere!" Tim said to Sherlock. Sherlock chuckled in response and wheeled John and Tim into the living room as he carried Astrid.

Tim carefully got off John's lap and instead settled himself on the sofa when they arrived in the living room. Sherlock put Astrid down on the floor and looked worriedly at John as he was getting out of his wheelchair to sit down on the sofa as well. John managed to sit down on the sofa without any trouble and when he had himself settled, Sherlock sat down next to John and put his arm around him and drew him close. Astrid jumped up on the sofa and together she and Tim sat on either side of their two dads, instinctively careful of John's IV.

John sighed contentedly when he felt his family once again being close to him. This was what he had wished for for five years' time and he finally had it. He wouldn't let whatever sickness he had prevent him from being with his family.

"Any of you hungry?" John asked after they had cuddled for a while.

"No Daddy, we ate at Uncle's!" Astrid said with a grin and looked at Tim with a special gaze. Tim giggled hysterically for a moment. It looked like something had happened at Mycroft's that only they knew.

John looked at Sherlock with a smile and nodded to Astrid's reply.

"Okay then, then I guess Daddy and Papa will cook their own food." John said and was about to raise himself from the sofa but he was stopped by Sherlock applying more pressure on John's shoulders to keep him seated. John looked questioningly at Sherlock.

"Stay seated." Sherlock said softly and kissed his cheek. Astrid giggled at the sight.

"Let's get our children to bed first before we eat anything..." Sherlock whispered quietly in John's ear. John nodded thinking it was a good idea.

"Astrid and Tim, do you want us to go upstairs and read a story for you?" John asked their children and both of them nodded.

"Yes!" Tim said enthusiastically with his eyes glinting.

"Good, but first you've got to brush your teeth. Go on, away with you." John said to their children and Astrid and Tim hurried their way upstairs. They called down when they were finished and Sherlock helped John, practically carrying him against his side but trying not to make it obvious for John's sake, upstairs and into the children's shared bedroom. There, after setting aside the wheelchair that Sherlock had somehow managed to bring up with them, they sunk down on Astrid's bed with John and Sherlock in the middle. Sherlock carefully keeping John's IV line straight so the medicine would flow through properly. It was very tight but still very cosy.

"So which one of us do you want to read the story for you? Sherlock or me?" John asked their children softly.

"I want Papa to read!" Astrid said. "If that is okay with Tim of course," she added and Tim immediately nodded. Sherlock felt honored that his children wanted him to read for them. It had been John's thing to do for five years after all. It had been John's honor. Not his.

Astrid went away for a moment to look for her favourite book (which Tim loved too) and she came back after just a few seconds. She handed the book to Sherlock. It was 'The Little Mermaid'. Sherlock felt his insides go warm and fuzzy. He thought it was so cute that his children loved 'The Little Mermaid' and he wasn't usually one that thought things were cute.

After Sherlock had read 'The Little Mermaid'by H.C Andersen (the child-friendly version) four times, his children had finally fallen asleep and unfortunately, John had too. Sherlock carefully turned around to lie on his stomach so he could look at his beloved ones better. John was sleeping softly. His face was relaxed and he snored a little. Tim looked exactly like Sherlock when he was his age. His sleeping face was relaxed though he had his Papa's countenance. Astrid looked more like John with her relaxed face and the small smile she had on her lips.

Sherlock sighed deeply with love at the sight of his dearest people sleeping. It felt like his heart had swelled up three times greater than regular size and he loved the happy feeling he had blowing through his system like a fresh summer breeze. Still, he had a small hamster gnawing at the back of his head.

"John is dying, John is dying, John is dying," it whispered over and over again, laughing and teasing him.

Sherlock shook his head to whisk it away and it did when he looked at John again. He was deeply impressed by the hard work John had put into the whole apartment. John had decorated Astrid's old room so it would fit Tim's personality more. He had actually painted a whole forest on the walls with a wolf in the middle of the forest. The wolf looked like an exact copy of Sherlock in his wolf-form with the same face-shape, ears and eyes. It was spot on. It even had big angel wings protruding from its back, probably signifying Sherlock's death. The dedication John had put into decorating their children's room touched Sherlock very deeply. He really needed to thank him when he woke up.

Sherlock looked around the room for a while before he decided it was time for John to wake up; partly because he wanted John awake and partly because John needed to take his medicine. Sherlock had already memorized the schedule for John's medication. Every pill was necessary to hinder the death sentence a little longer, though it didn't actually work but Sherlock could always imagine it did...

"The love of my life, the beat to my heart..." Sherlock whispered softly into John's ear as he slowly kissed both John's cheeks, wanting him to wake up.

John grunted reluctantly; he didn't want to leave dream land yet.

"Please wake up...I know you are visiting me in your dreams but please, visit me in your reality too," Sherlock murmured hopefully and pecked his lover's lips quickly.

John's eyelids started to flutter like a pair of hummingbird wings when he felt Sherlock's lips against his. He opened his eyes and he lit up in a smile so bright it could have outshone the sun.

"Sherlock..." he whispered lovingly and Sherlock nodded.

"Yes, that is me." Sherlock said childishly and kissed John's nose. John chuckled and embraced Sherlock tightly.

"I'm so glad you are here Sherlock. It is a miracle... it is the most wonderful miracle that has ever happened to me..." John murmured, his tears of joy wetting Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock just smiled in response and let John's words seep through him; he absorbed them like a sponge absorbs water and let them fill his soul with happiness.

"John, I would like us to get up from this bed and go up to the roof," Sherlock murmured close to John's ear and nibbled a little at his earlobe.

"Up to the roof? What are we going to do-" John started but Sherlock hushed him.

"Easy my love. You will see..." Sherlock said and helped John get out of the bed carefully so as not wake their children nor disturb John's IV. When John was seated in his wheelchair and ready to go, Sherlock covered their children with their blanket and gave their foreheads a kiss before he and John turned off the lights and left the room.

"Now, you can open your eyes," Sherlock breathed near John's ear and moved his hands away from John's eyes.

John slowly opened his eyes, his heart beating a little faster due to excitement. The first thing he noticed was the different coloured glowing lanterns soaring around a cosy looking corner of the roof. Someone ,Sherlock?, had placed a quilt on the 'ground' of the roof. On top of the quilt was a tray with lots of expensive food. On both sides of the food-filled plate were two wine glasses and two pairs of cutlery. Two pairs of red lit candles stood beside the wine glasses. Around the blanket were tons of pillows in different colours and even more blankets but it did not look sloppy, the whole corner was organized in a very beautiful way. The full moon shone its silvery light down on the roof, making the whole area look like something from a fairy tale.

John didn't know what to say. He understood that this was entirely Sherlock's doing and no word in the English dictionary could express what he was feeling right now.

"Sherlock...I...There are no words for this," John whispered and just stared at the whole scene before him.

"You don't need words, just share this evening with me," Sherlock whispered and helped John out of his wheelchair. He led John to the corner he had made and they sat down, facing each other. Sherlock noticed that John's eyes were a bit teary.

"When did you ever have time to prepare this?" John asked and looked at Sherlock with admiring eyes.

"I prepared it before I picked you up from the hospital and brought the kids home." Sherlock replied softly and stroked John's cheek with his index finger.

"It is amazing Sherlock...This whole thing...It is so beautiful..." John said. His voice thick with awe.

"I am glad you think so my love." Sherlock said quietly and smiled at him.

"Now, eat," he said.

John started eating and enjoyed every bit of the marvellous food Sherlock had bought for them.

"Now John, I want you to take your medicine," Sherlock requested softly and served him a glass of water together with three pills.

John took the pills and swallowed them.

"It is alcohol free so you don't have to worry about your liver," Sherlock said when he saw John giving the wine a worried look.

"You can drink it without worries," Sherlock added and John smiled brightly at him.

"You really do think of everything," John said softly and Sherlock nodded.

"I do. I don't want you to get hurt," Sherlock replied and ate the last bit of food he had left on his plate. When he was finished he took out a small CD player John hadn't noticed before. He pressed play and a very beautiful tune started playing. The tune contained piano and violins blended together in the most beautiful mix of music John had ever heard.

"I recorded it myself... I recorded it right after I had met you for the first time. It contains my love for you written in music," Sherlock murmured softly.

John stared at the CD player in complete awe. Tears slowly started rolling down his cheeks while the music made its way into his body. It was like he was reborn into a whole new person when the music reached his eardrum and flowed to every part of his body. Every stroke of the piano keys, every glide with the violin bow was the very embodiment of Sherlock's love. John reached out his right hand as if he was trying to touch it, but there was nothing else to touch except Sherlock's hand. Sherlock gripped his hand firmly around John's and gave him a look that said:

Dance with me.

John didn't even need to say yes, his body acted on its own. He raised himself from the quilt and Sherlock quickly helped him to the middle of the roof where the moon shone the brightest. Sherlock put his left hand on John's waist and John giggled a little, probably by the fact that he had the female role, before he curled his hand around Sherlock's right hand. Then John put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. They slowly started dancing to the rhythm of the music. After a while of just dancing together, Sherlock's hand went from John's waist to his back and he pulled John closer so their chests touched. John rubbed his fingers on Sherlock's fingers with his eyes locked on Sherlock's eyes, not releasing them for one moment.

"I surrender who I have been for who you are... Nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart... You are every line, you are every word... You are everything." Sherlock sung in time to the music while he was touching John's fingers with his own. Sherlock put John's hand against his chest and smiled lovingly at John before he changed the rhythm of the dance to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

They danced for a little while until Sherlock stopped dancing and drew John's face close to his. He leaned in towards John's face and kissed him slowly and tenderly. John answered the kiss and put his arms around Sherlock's neck, drawing his body even closer until their chests bumped into each other. Sherlock put his arms around John's waist and slowly pulled him closer with their lips still locked with each other. They kept kissing until there was no air left in their lungs. Sherlock was the one to break the kiss. When he had inhaled some much-needed air, he looked at John with giant dilated pupils and John looked back with just as big pupils as Sherlock's. Tears glittered in the corners of John's eye. Sherlock kissed them away.

"Sherlock... I don't know how I will ever be able to thank you for this," John murmured, his voice still a bit husky.

"You don't have to thank me John. I just wanted to share this with you. You're the one I want to share my whole life with. I came back from the dead to be with you, there is nothing you need to thank me for. I can never thank you enough for being with me. To see you smiling, to see you laughing, to hear your voice... All of that is a gift for me. Just hearing you breathing is the greatest and most treasured gift I've ever received. I treasure your breathing every day... John, I love you so much, there really are no words to explain how much I love you..." Sherlock whispered while caressing John's cheek. He kissed John's forehead.

"I...Sherlock... I can only say the same to you... You're the best thing that has ever happened to me..." John murmured and put his finger under Sherlock's chin and drew his lips to his and kissed him deeply with every ounce of his love while the Moon shone its silver coloured light over them, making the world around them shine like the brightest star.

Chapter 5

Notes:

I'm sorry it's taking me such a long time to upload the chapters. The thing is that I have a wonderful and great beta reader and she has a fulltime job so it takes some time for her to help me correct the chapters! :) But don't fret, the chapters will come up eventually, you just have to wait a little. :] I hope you all will understand! I'm also thinking about getting another beta for the first story in "The Bloodline" series. Anyone of you that would be interested in helping me correcting it? Please comment down here or send me a PM!!!

---

"You'll need to sacrifice a human being, complete with all their body parts and organs. Also, if the resurrection is going to be successful you'll need to do this on a full moon night when the moon is at its peak. And you'll need to give him a chalice filled with your own blood every day; otherwise he will start to disappear." Anderson slowly explained to Mycroft as they were sitting outside at a table in Mycroft's big garden.

"My own blood?" Mycroft asked with a big frown and slight fear in his voice. "Why?" He gave Anderson a doubtful look.

"It is a ritual thing. For the resurrected human to continue to live without any problem he needs to live off his summoner's blood. It says so in every book I've been able to find on resurrecting someone." Anderson explained with a shrug and took a sip of his raspberry tea.

"Okay. So I'll feed him my own blood. Chalice you say?" Mycroft said slowly and looked at Anderson.

"Yes. In fact a particular chalice. I'm borrowing it from Sally." Anderson said. Mycroft nodded in response.

"Sally? You are...?"

"No. We have not mated and probably won't. I don't feel that way for her no matter how much I try when I'm around her. In fact, there is someone else I've felt that way for whenever I am around this person; even when I'm not around them." Anderson interrupted Mycroft, looking at the gnarled apple tree. Its branches were filled with pink and white flowers, soon to blossom into apples.

Mycroft noticed Anderson voice changing to be a little more emotional and disappointed than before.

"May I ask whom?" Mycroft asked, staring at Anderson with his sharp eyes.

Anderson shook his head.

"No." he replied.

Mycroft decided to let it be. He still had an idea about who this person could be.

"So, how did Sally get her hands on this chalice?" Mycroft then asked.

"She received it from someone. I don't know." Anderson replied.

"But isn't the chalice a werewolf type of thing?" Mycroft asked suspiciously.

"It is. Maybe she received it from someone she worked with a long time ago. I don't know" Anderson said.

"Let's move on. Whom are you going to sacrifice?" Anderson asked.

"Anthea" Mycroft said with no doubt. He had planned this a long time ago and she had agreed with him. Ever since the day they met and Mycroft had helped her with something, Anthea had sworn eternal trust to Mycroft and she would do anything for him, even sacrifice her own life.

Anderson nodded slightly.

"I see..." he said thoughtfully and paged through his calendar.

"Next full moon, with the moon at its peak, is the 20th of June. In two weeks then" he said.

Mycroft nodded, his heart skipping a beat by the anticipation of seeing Lestrade again.

"Just a friendly warning Mycroft. There is a risk that he won't remember you or himself anymore and that he won't be as he was. He may have become another person" Anderson warned with his eyes locked on Mycroft's.

"I know. I will make him remember me" Mycroft said a bit more stubbornly than Anderson had expected him to be.

"You really do love him, don't you?" Anderson asked with a soft smile on his lips, thinking of how it would be to be with the one he loved and had imprinted on.

Mycroft nodded, his gaze somewhere else.

"I do... We do. We had just gotten close and had kissed for the first time. I had come to the conclusion that he was my mate and I wanted to share an eternity with him. Then it all ended when Moriarty kidnapped John..."

"Yes, I've heard of it. Sorry I couldn't join to help you." Anderson replied noticing that Mycroft still mourned after five years even though they hadn't really mated so there had been no connection yet.

Mycroft shrugged, his presence now sorrowful Anderson noticed.

"You are sure you really want him back? I know you want him back but as I said before, he may be a whole other person" Anderson said.

Mycroft gave him a hawk-like stare before answering.

"I know he may be another person but I love him too much to let him lie in the ground for the rest of my life. I want him to live again, to be able to see the world again, to be able to breathe and share his days with me. It is possible and I want to give back to him that right even though he may have changed; the right to his life that Moriarty never should have taken from him. Even though he may have changed" Mycroft explained, looking into the distance again.

"Okay, I will help you Mycroft. I will do whatever it takes to help you. We will just have to wait two weeks before it will happen. In the meantime, I need to find a cure for John" Anderson said and drank the last gulps of his tea.

"Thank you Anderson for helping me and my brother." Mycroft gave Anderson's shoulder a firm pat in gratitude.

"No problem. We are pack mates after all. By the way, when are we going to visit the rest of our pack? Or go on our hunt trip for that matter" Anderson questioned.

"I do not know. I will wait to go to our pack until Lestrade is alive again and I don't know if Sherlock, John and the children are going there soon or not" Mycroft replied.

Anderson nodded.
"I see. Well, I guess it would be a bad idea with taking John there with his sickness."

Mycroft shrugged.

"Maybe or maybe it would freshen him up a bit. Oh yes. Sherlock texted me yesterday that he is planning to ask of John's hand soon" Mycroft said, his eyes suddenly sparkling happily.

"Engage? Already?" Anderson asked sheepishly and couldn't help but feel a bit hurt.

"Already? Where have you been the last five years Anderson? Stuck in a pit? They mated and have two children together and Sherlock even died for John" Mycroft snarled angrily.

"Yes yes, I know. Sorry" he said admitting his stupidity.

Mycroft grunted irritated and rolled his eyes. It was already too obvious and it made Mycroft sick. Anderson was in love with Sherlock.

"Did he say when?" Anderson asked after a while of silence.

"No, I think he wants John to be cured first" Mycroft said.

Anderson nodded with a hum and looked at the apple tree again. Its branches swung softly in the wind.

"Then I need to find a cure as quickly as possible" Anderson said and raised himself from the chair.

"You better" Mycroft said.

With that, the two men separated ways.

---

"John...I know you're not very healthy right now...but...would you like to make love with me again?" Sherlock asked his soul mate when they had laid down in their bed after a long day of playing with their children and planning the rest of the summer.

John swallowed his two nightly medicine pills and crept down under the blanket beside Sherlock's warm body.

"Of course. Of course, I would love that" John said eagerly and Sherlock couldn't help but laugh out loud. John joined him and they giggled like two schoolgirls.

"Okay, good. You need to take it easy though. I don't want you to pass out" Sherlock said when they had caught their breaths. He really needed to tell John why his heart hurt though he didn't want to do it just yet. He wasn't sure how John would react but he promised himself he would tell John about it tomorrow.

John giggled again and kissed Sherlock's cheek softly.

"Of course...though... condom or not?" John asked thinking of the bloodline that needed to go further. He didn't actually know if Astrid and Tim were able to breed. He was going to ask Sherlock later.

"That depends on what you want. More werewolf babies or not?" Sherlock asked with a teasing grin and licked John's earlobe.

"Oh I don't know Sherlock. Do you get pregnant as soon as the sperm reaches your...uh...womb or not?" John asked.

"Sack, not womb." Sherlock corrected him softly and kissed his cheek while drawing his fingers through John's hair. "And to answer your question, I don't know actually. It's still quite unclear whether it happens that way or not" Sherlock said.

"I see. Well, don't you think it's too early for us to conceive more children? I mean, you were just revived and I don't know what Tim and Astrid would think of it" John murmured.

Sherlock gave John a slightlydisappointed look.

"I think they would be very happy about more siblings and I didn't have them in my sack as long as I was going to. Astrid came out too early and so did Tim. Or technically he was ripped out of me prematurely. I will bear our new child or children for about nine or ten months. Maybe longer. It depends on how long it wants to grow" Sherlock explained and nuzzled John's nose.

"How long it wants to grow?" John asked with a frown and giggled at Sherlock nuzzling his nose.

"Yes, that is correct."

"What do you mean 'how long it wants to grow'?" John asked with a frown.

Sherlock moved away from John so he could sit beside him instead of lying beside him.

"You see John, werewolves have a strong independent will, even when they are still fetuses in the sack. They instinctively know that they need to stay inside the sack for at least five months, but not too much longer than 11 or 12 months to be as healthy as possible for when they decide to come out." Sherlock said and instinctively patted his belly. He wanted more children. He could have more than ten children with John if John wanted that. He loved having his mate's children and seeing John's and his DNA mixed together in a being that he carried inside himself, nurturing and protecting.

"Wow...I didn't know that. That's pretty cool! That they are that intelligent I mean" John said and put his arms around Sherlock's waist. Sherlock looked down at him with a smile and leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

"So? What do you want? More babies or not?" Sherlock whispered softly, his voice filled with excitement as he lied down on the bed beside John once again.

John wrinkled his forehead and scratched his chin.

"I don't know Sherlock" he said truthfully and Sherlock stared at him with disappointed eyes.

"Okay then" Sherlock said with a hollow voice and faced away from John.

"No, oh Sherlock, please don't be disappointed..." John murmured softly, putting his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, turning Sherlock around to face him again.

"But I am. I thought you wanted to have more children with me" Sherlock said stubbornly and hurt. He stared at John with sad eyes.

John sighed and shook his head. He didn't know what to say.

"I do want more children..." he hesitated. "I think...but not today" John said and stroked Sherlock's right cheekbone.

"You are hesitating. You don't want more children" Sherlock growled. This was very important to him and for his whole species. He was the last werewolf left that was able to breed and he wasn't even sure Tim and Astrid would be able to breed.

John rolled his eyes and grunted, deeply irritated that they were fighting over something like this.

"You are acting too impatient and childish right now Sherlock. I have never said that I don't want more children. I just said that I don't want more children right now" John said, trying to cheer Sherlock up but to no success.

Sherlock frowned angrily, feeling his nose shift a bit making his face look like a wolf's, and quickly got up from the bed.

"I don't want to speak with you right now" he snarled angrily to John and left the room.

John let out a loud grunt of anger and disappointment. He had never expected that Sherlock's childishness would still be around after five years.

John dug his head into his pillow and sighed angrily and punched the pillow.

"Just nicely done John! You had the greatest opportunity to finally have sex with your love you haven't seen for five years and you totally blew it!" he thought angrily and gritted his teeth. He punched the pillow one last time before he carefully stood up off the bed and stared out the window. He saw an enormous wolf running across the street scaring the few people that were out with its huge frame.

"What the hell is he even doing?!" John thought angrily and grabbed his phone from where it rested on the bedside table. He started to type Mycroft for help but when he was finished, he didn't send it. John got distracted by how jealous he was of Sherlock being able to transform into something else. In fact, he envied him. He wanted to be able to transform as well and to be able to run beside at Sherlock's side. He wanted to experience how it was to be something else. He had wished for it ever since they had visited the werewolf camp. The thought made him feel lonely and the far-too-well-known-loneliness he had felt since Sherlock's death attacked him like a sudden strike of lightning. His chest started hurting and he slumped down on the floor wincing painfully with his eyes pinched. He started panting exhaustingly; black blobs in different sizes danced before his eyes.

"I'm dying." John thought and a feeling of unexpected relief bubbled inside him. At least he was going to die with the thought of Sherlock finally returning to him, someone taking care of the children since Mrs. Hudson moved away from the apartment three years ago and with the thought of Sherlock kissing him for one last time. Sadly, his life would end with him and his one true love fighting but there was nothing he could do about that. What's done is done; he couldn't exactly change the past.

The black blobs covered his vision and with a black shimmering light the Reaper was standing next to him with his hand on John's shoulder.

---

"Astrid...Astrid please, wake up…" Tim whispered to his sister as he was shaking her body powerfully.

Astrid slowly opened her tired eyes and looked at her brother blearily.

"What is it Timothy?" she asked sleepily using her younger brother's full name.

"I think there's something wrong with Daddy. Please let's go to him" Tim whispered while tears ran down his cheeks.

"Darling why are you crying?" Astrid asked worriedly and hugged him before quickly getting out of the bed. "Wow you're clammy!" she said when she hugged him.

"I don't know. I woke up from a very weird dream about Papa and now I just feel there is something wrong with Daddy. Please can we just hurry?" Tim asked and Astrid nodded taking his hand.

They ran to their fathers' room and Tim screamed loudly at the sight. A black robed figure was standing next to John's side, holding a big scythe with his bony hands. It was just like the scene he had seen in his dream. Astrid started growling furiously and out of the blue her body had transformed into an angry furry mess.

"Leave Daddy ALONE!" Tim could hear her screaming inside his head as she launched at the Reaper. The reaper stared at her with a sly grin and easily knocked her out of the way with his scythe. Astrid tumbled down on the floor with a loud bang. She had broken her left paw but nothing could stop her from protecting her dad. She launched at the reaper over and over again snarling furiously with her teeth bared. Her fur gradually became coloured with red as the reaper continued to knock her out of the way. Tim was frozen on the spot staring at his sister and father slowly dying by the robed man in black. His legs started shivering and soon enough, he was lying on the floor crying helplessly.

Astrid launched herself one last time at the Reaper but as before, she was easily thrown away with the sharp edge of the scythe. Her face was filled with ugly, bleeding wounds and a big bump had formed on her head. She bumped into the wall with a loud whine and when she landed on the floor she drifted off into unwanted unconsciousness.

The reaper grabbed John's shirt and lifted him up from the floor. He was just about to slit John's throat when he was stopped by an enormous wolf grabbing his scythe with its teeth, throwing it away.

"You are not taking him away from me!" Sherlock's deep voice hummed determined to the Reaper as he suddenly was standing in front of the Reaper.

The Reaper smiled at Sherlock and shook its head.

"You have come too late. His soul is mine now" the Reaper's voice hissed to Sherlock. Sherlock snorted angrily and shook his big head.

"No. He still belongs to the Living and to me. I will fix him" Sherlock growled back to the Reaper.

The Reaper hissed wildly in response but let John go without hesitation. Sherlock hurried to catch John on his back before John fell to the floor. A cold breeze flew across the room and the Reaper was gone.

Sherlock quickly made John lie down on the bed under the blanket. John was cold as ice. Then he woke Astrid up with a smooth lick on her furry cheek. She opened her eyes and looked at Sherlock with sad eyes.

"Papa I couldn't save him... I couldn't-" she broke off.

"Easy my child. Daddy is alive" Sherlock replied shortly before hurrying to Tim and kissing his salty tasting cheeks with his tongue.

"Come my child" he said softly to his son and Tim's body broke free of its frozen state. Sherlock carefully jumped up on the bed and lied down beside John, keeping John's body warm with his thick fur. Astrid placed herself on the other side of John and Tim buried his face in the fur of Sherlock's back. He was ashamed that he had been incapable of doing anything to help.

"Now my children, while Daddy is resting would you like to hear a story?" Sherlock whispered to his children's minds and cuddled closer to John with his warm body.

"What kind of story?" Astrid asked, her voice very tired and a bit shaky. Her wounds had already started to heal and the healing made her tired.

"Choose one." Sherlock whispered and put his big head on John's shoulder to warm John's ice cold neck. He needed to tell John why John's body was acting like this. He really needed to but he didn't have enough courage; he didn't want to risk a fight with John again.

Tim went out of the bed and came back with a handmade book in his hands.

"This is my favourite story. It is much better than the Little Mermaid." Tim said and shakily laid down in the middle of Astrid and John. The poor child was still pretty shaken up after the incident that had happened just minutes ago. Sherlock nodded in response and twitched his ears.

"Astrid could you hold it up for me? I need to stay in wolf-form to be able to warm Daddy properly." Sherlock asked and Astrid nodded, holding up the book by leaning it on her chest for Sherlock to read. She had turned back to human before she lied down in the bed.

Sherlock started reading a tale about himself, both from John's perspective and Mrs. Hudson's. He read about his younger years and the time when he met John and how they finally got together and how much John loved him. The illustrations almost hurt Sherlock's eyes with their beauty. He had never seen such a beautiful book before and he couldn't believe that John hadn't told him about it before.

When he finished reading he noticed that his children were fast asleep. It had been quite a long and exhausting day for the family. Sherlock couldn't help but worry about John and how he would be when he woke up. Was he going to be angry? Sad? Worried? Afraid? Sherlock wouldn't know. The questions blossomed around his head and he almost threw up by the massive impact. He had stood face to face with Death again and Death had almost succeeded in taking the most precious thing Sherlock had. Sherlock promised himself he would never leave John's side again even though they were fighting. He would never do that again. Never.

---

"John...there is something I would like to tell you." Sherlock said slowly to John as they were sitting the next morningin the kitchen having some early breakfast. John had his IV back in his arm and he couldn't remember anything from yesterday except the fight between him and Sherlock and that he had later on passed out from pain. Astrid had already healed up, even her broken paw had healed.

"I know why you are sick" Sherlock said slowly while he kept his gaze on John.

Tim and Astrid looked at their fathers'. What was Papa talking about?

"You do? How would you know?" John asked with a frown bringing out the wrinkles on his forehead while chewing on warm toast smeared with strawberry jam.

"I know because in a way it is my fault..." Sherlock said slowly, his gaze still locked on John.

"Your fault? How?" John asked and swallowed his medicine pills.

"When I died, the mate-bond between us broke. When a werewolf has mated with a human and then passes away, the human mate begins dying from the broken bond and will be completely dead within about a month or two at the most after their werewolf mate has died. But you were able to continue to live because of your stubbornness and your will to continue on living for me and for Tim and Astrid" Sherlock explained.

John stared at him with big grey/blue eyes.

"Uhm...okay. Shouldn't I stop dying now that you're back?" John asked.

Sherlock noticed some sweat pearls running down John's forehead.

"No. I am afraid it doesn't work that way" Sherlock said with a sigh and gave John a sad look. "My return makes it more bearable but not curable" he added and firmly enveloped John's hand in his.

John was speechless for minutes; so were the children. They just looked at Sherlock with shocked eyes.

"Why... Why didn't you tell me sooner?" John asked when he had stared at Sherlock for God's know how long.

"I couldn't grasp the needed courage and I didn't know how you would react. I was afraid you might faint or even worse, get another heart attack" Sherlock confessed and stroked each of John's fingers.

John started biting the nails on his free hand and stared off into the distance.

"So I am dying? There is no cure?" John asked, his voice desperate.

"Yes you are. But I will find you a cure John. You will not die. No one will die here until we are old enough to do so. Anderson is looking for a cure for you" Sherlock said and gave John's knuckles smooth kisses.

John nodded slowly, accepting every word Sherlock said. It made sense after all and he was glad Anderson was helping them out with finding a cure.

"What kind of cure will it be?" John asked curious.

"I don't know love. It's all up to Anderson" Sherlock said softly and leaned over the table kissing John's lips. John answered the kiss and stroked Sherlock's cheek while they were kissing.

"How long will it take?" John asked when they had stopped kissing. He ate the last piece of his toast before he started clearing away the dishes.

"I don't know, but I've figured out that the medicines slow down the ticking of your clock a little and with you being with me our bond is slowly rebuilding itself though you still need a cure" Sherlock said while helping John with the dishes. Tim and Astrid were now playing hide and seek around the house.

"Okay, well it is good to know that Anderson is looking for a cure" John said and put the plates into the dishwasher.

"Sherlock...when Anderson has found the cure, do you think you would...want to transform me into one of you?" John asked and sat down on a chair, taking some deep breaths.

Sherlock gave him a worried look before answering.

"I would love to John, I really would. But I don't know if it's even possible" Sherlock said and stood in front of John, patting his head softly.

"Possible? Why wouldn't it be?" John asked with a frown. His stomach dropped at this new fact. He would never be allowed to join Sherlock fully, would he?

"Do you remember Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran?" Sherlock asked and squatted down in front of John.

"Of course I do. I will never forget them" John replied.

Sherlock nodded.

"Do you remember what Jim said about all humans not being able to adapt a werewolf's venom?"

John nodded.

"I do" he replied.

"That is the point. Your body may not be able to accept the poison and then you die. I can't allow that to happen John. I can't take another risk with you dying because of me again" Sherlock murmured, looking at John's hands while stroking them softly.

John's body shuddered with deep disappointment. He had hoped and wished since the day Astrid was born that Sherlock one day was going to transform him, but then Sherlock passed away and his hopes died with him. But now Sherlock had returned and John couldn't help but get his hopes up again just to have them dashed once more with this news.

Sherlock put his arms around John's body and hugged him tightly.

"I know your desire. I wish I could be stronger. I wish I could take that risk for you, but I can't. I can't lose you" Sherlock whispered close to John's ear.

John didn't reply. He just sat there silently while tears dropped down his cheeks.

Chapter 6

Notes:

Contains sex and mentions of mpreg.

"I think I know what we need Sherlock." John said suddenly as he was cooking food for his family one week after the incident with the Reaper. John had recovered quite well since the event; he didn't need his wheelchair anymore though Sherlock still obliged him to use it every now and then when he noticed that John was exhausted.

Sherlock looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"What do we need love?" he asked while stroking Tim's hair. The boy was sleeping in his lap. Astrid was sitting on the kitchen bench, looking at her family.

"We need vacation. We need to get out of the city pulse and let our lungs breathe fresh air instead of fumes." John hada determined look on his face.

"All right and where do you want us to go?" Sherlock asked, his face breaking up into a smile.

"I don't know. Just on a vacation away from 221B." John set the table with plates and cutlery before he put the sauce pan and frying pan with food on the table. He sat down in his chair and started serving himself with the food.

Sherlock carefully woke Tim with a soft pat on his cheek.

"Wake up, food is served." Sherlock whispered softly into his ear and the boy opened his eyes with a grunt. He rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly.

"What do you say we go and visit my werewolf pack? You know the same place we were when Astrid was born?" Sherlock suggested while serving himself some food. Tim jumped out of his papa's lap and settled himself on his own chair beside Astrid.

"That sounds very nice but from what I remember when I fell down the stairs since Anderson refused to take me with him, he said that it was a long way to go and that the way is very complicated and hard through the forest. It is not the ideal destination for me, since it's forest, moss and such of things. I'm not sure if my heart can bear it." John replied and took a bite of the food.

"It's okay John. Astrid, Tim and I will help you," Sherlock said softly. He didn't even look at the food nor served himself with it.

"How?" John asked with a frown while chewing.

"I will take you on my back, it's really no problem." Sherlock explained, looking at John with big pupils. He wanted to be with him. To make love with him but he wouldn't do that until John wanted more children. It was something he had promised himself. The bloodline needed to go further. That reminded him that he needed to ask Anderson about how they can see if their children are able to breed.

"If you transformed me I would be able to go there myself," John said with his voice bitter.

Sherlock's heart dropped. He didn't want John to think that way. He wanted John to forget about it and treasure every day even though he wasn't going to be able to transform.

Tim and Astrid looked at their parents.

"Why isn't Daddy able to transform?" Tim asked. He didn't know that John was an ordinary human. He thought that John was just a little late with his first transformation.

"It's because Daddy is an ordinary human. He isn't able to transform since he doesn't have the power to do so. Like you, me and Papa," Astrid explained before eating a little.

"But why isn't Papa helping Daddy to transform then?" Tim asked, deeply confused.

"I don't know. Maybe he doesn't want to," Astrid said and gave Sherlock a questioning look.

John gave Sherlock a deadly stare before suddenly rising from the table and walking away with angry steps. He fled out to the balcony Anderson had built for them.

Sherlock sighed deeply and buried his face in his hands.

"Did we say something wrong Papa?" Tim asked with a worried voice.

Sherlock shook his head.

"No you didn't. This is just a sensitive area for Daddy," Sherlock explained with his face still buried.

Why didn't John understand his worry? Why didn't he understand that Sherlock didn't want to take the huge risk of killing him by infecting him? Why couldn't he just understand?!

Sherlock's intense thoughts were interrupted by a black headed boy crawling up in his lap.

"Cheer up Papa please. I'm sure Daddy will be happy again," Tim murmured and hugged Sherlock tightly. Sherlock smiled at him and stroked his hair.

"I believe that as well love...I think I will go out and see what he is doing now. Go and play with Astrid," Sherlock said softly to his son and kissed his forehead before putting Tim down and going out to the balcony. Tim scooted towards Astrid and they went into their room to play.

–

John was leaning on the balcony railing, looking over the busy streets of London. He sighed deeply at the fight he had just had with Sherlock. He hated fighting with him but the werewolf thing was really something he wanted. He wanted to be a full part of his family. Right now, he was not a whole part of it. Astrid could transform, Sherlock could transform and Timothy would be able to transform sooner or later. He himself? No. He was never going to be able to transform if Sherlock didn't bite him and that thought made him so incredibly sad. He would never be a real part of his family.

Suddenly thin, alabaster white arms curled themselves around John's waist.

John looked down at them and couldn't help but smile even though he wasn't happy right now.

"Hello there love of my life..." Sherlock quietly whispered near John's ear and kissed his neck, sending shivers down John's spine.

"Hello Sherlock," John replied softly and turned his head slightly to look at Sherlock's face.

"How are you? I can feel that you are down." Sherlock murmured, looking at John with one eye brimming of love. His other eye was misty from blindness.

"I'm sad," John replied shortly. He didn't want to fight with Sherlock again.

"It is okay John. I know that you are sad that I won't transform you but please... Don't think about it too much. I love you so much already, so a transformation of you isn't really needed for me. I love you the way you are and I will continue to do so whether you transform or not. Though I won't transform you," Sherlock whispered softly, tightening his grip around John with each word he uttered.

John's body tightened as he heard Sherlock's words. They only made him even angrier. He moved Sherlock's arms away and turned around to face him.

"Sherlock you don't even grasp how much this means to me! I'm a half part of our family! I don't belong to our family fully! I'm just a human! I'm not able to transform! You, Astrid and soon to be Tim are able to transform while I am not! You won't even take the risk of transforming me!" John exclaimed, his cheeks turning red by fury.

Sherlock stared at him in response. You could almost see his wolf ears slumping down (if he had had any visible).

"John I... Please listen-" Sherlock tried but John interrupted him.

"No Sherlock! You are going to listen! I don't feel whole-"

Sherlock interrupted him with a frustrated kiss. John immediately shut up and gripped Sherlock's wrists, turning him around and pushing him forcefully against the railing. Sherlock couldn't help but love when John was acting possessive over him.

Sherlock looked at John with big pupils before closing his eyes again and continuing with the kissing. He enjoyed every second of it. John pushed himself closer to Sherlock's body, adding his tongue to the kiss. Sherlock added his tongue as well and they started exploring each other's mouths. While they were kissing John put his hands on Sherlock's pants and drew them off. Sherlock broke the kiss and looked at John with a frown and then a smug smile on his lips. John smiled back and shook his head.

"I'm in charge," John whispered and drew off Sherlock's shirt with ease before unclothing himself. They only had their boxers left on their bodies. John surveyed Sherlock's body and noticed a long scar running from his solar plexus down to his abdomen.

John pushed himself more softly this time against Sherlock and touched the start of the scar with his index finger.

"This is the scar from Moriarty," he whispered. It was more of a statement than a question.

Sherlock nodded and put his nose in John's hair, drawing his scent into his lungs.

"Yes..." he murmured next to John's fuzzy hair and put his long arms around John's shorter body.

"I thought your body was going to be fully healed when you resurrected," John murmured, touching the bristly skin with his finger.

"It did heal though the scars are left on my body," Sherlock murmured back, holding John close to his body as a cold wind breezed.

John nodded slightly, enjoying Sherlock's arms around him. Then he started following the scar down to Sherlock's abdomen. Sherlock's body shivered as John's finger was getting closer and closer to his lower parts.

Sherlock moaned out when John's hand was touching his already hardened member. John drew off Sherlock's boxers with his index finger and when they were on the floor of the balcony, the army doctor pushed his finger into Sherlock's hole.

Sherlock moaned even louder when John started fucking him with his finger.

"Ah John! More!" Sherlock moaned out loud.

"Okay Sherlock, you asked for it." John said and lifted Sherlock up from the floor and onto the railing, aligning his erection with Sherlock's opening. John forcefully pushed himself into Sherlock and continued until he was fully sheathed inside the dark-haired man. Sherlock whined like a wolf with mixed pleasure and pain. He loved when John was rough with him. Sherlock put his arms around John's neck and his legs around John's waist to not fall down.

"But babies John. You don't want them," Sherlock moaned. He was almost going crazy feeling John inside him again. He felt the sensation of transformation running along his spine as John started moving inside him. Sherlock took that as "I don't care".

Then John started moving. At first it was a slow pace but he gradually sped up.

"Ah, Jo-Joh-John...faster...harder...!" Sherlock moaned as John pounded him harder.

"Mmh!" was all John could reply with.

Sherlock felt the burning knot in his stomach tightening as he was close to coming.

"Coming!" Sherlock screamed as he came on both of their stomachs. Feeling Sherlock's walls clamp down around his dick put John over the edge as he came deep within his soul-mate. John rode out his orgasm and then removed Sherlock's legs from around his waist as he carefully lifted him down on the balcony again.

John sat down on the floor and Sherlock curled up beside him with his arms tightly around John's upper body.

"I love you John," he said and kissed John's cheek. "And this was a good experience. I never expected us to have balcony sex with London hearing and watching us," he added with a giggle and buried his face into John's neck.

John giggled as well and hugged Sherlock tightly.

"I love you too Sherlock," he said softly. "But don't think I have forgotten about you transforming me," he added after a minute with a sterner voice than before.

Sherlock made an internal sigh before he dressed himself. John did that as well.

"Let's go inside," he said when they were finished with putting their clothing back on and they went inside in silence.

–

Sherlock curled up alone on the sofa while John was putting their children to bed. He was thinking about the moment he and John had shared on the balcony just a few minutes ago. His body shivered with cosiness when he thought about it but his stomach was still hurting from the fact that John wasn't going to give up about being transformed. Why did he have to be so stubborn? He knew that John wanted to be one of them but Sherlock couldn't just take a fifty percent chance to kill him, though it was a fifty percent chance that he would survive, but Sherlock wouldn't take that risk even though John was going to be bitter with him. He would never take the risk of John dying because of him again even though he couldn't have done anything about last time. If he had been able to control himself dying he would have made him not die. He would have protected John right from the beginning. He would have protected him from Moriarty's torture. He would have protected Tim from getting ripped out of his belly. The child had been close to dying and Sherlock was so glad he hadn't. He would have protected everyone in his pack from Moriarty and Sebastian but time had never been on his side. If he had only gotten there a bit earlier... John wouldn't have gone through the torture, Molly wouldn't have died, Tim wouldn't have been ripped out of him, Astrid wouldn't have been hurt and Lestrade wouldn't have his throat getting slit...

Sherlock gasped when he heard Anderson's heart-shattering scream at the sight of dead Molly inside his head. Memories from his last night alive flooded his mind, giving him an exploding headache which caused him to transform. He exploded into a dark brown furry mess and accidentally scratched deep holes in the sofa with his sharp claws.

Milk white tears stained his furred dark brown cheeks as he started crying. He silently whined and slumped down on his front paws with his face buried between them. If he had only come earlier...

"Sherlock? You okay?" John's voice asked worriedly as the man came into the room. John gave the wolf a startled look when he entered the living room but he calmed down when he noticed that it was just Sherlock sitting there. He wasn't used with Sherlock transforming so suddenly.

Sherlock perked his ears and immediately turned his face to John. The wolf moved a little so John could sit down beside him.

John walked over to his love and sat down by his left side. The army doctor put his arms around Sherlock's broad frame and leaned his cheek against Sherlock's thick neck.

"How are you love? Why have you transformed?" John whispered softly and drew a deep breath of Sherlock's forest-like smell. He deeply loved that smell. It soothed him.

Sherlock gave John a look of sadness.

"I started thinking about my last day alive and the memories still hurts so much. I wish I would've been there sooner because if I had, I would have been able to spare you from Moriarty's torture, Molly may not have died, Tim wouldn't have been ripped out of me and Astrid wouldn't have been hurt..." Sherlock whispered, his voice thick and regretful. "When emotions overtake me I can't control my transformations," he added and hummed softly when John started scratching his ear.

"Do not dwell on the past. There is nothing you can do about it now. We can only look forward to a brighter future," John replied softly and moved the position of his fingers to scratch underneath Sherlock's chin instead.

"But I wish things were different. I wish Lestrade and Molly were alive. I wish I hadn't died because then you wouldn't suffer the way you do now," Sherlock whispered. More white tears leaked from his eyes.

John sighed deeply and put Sherlock's head close to his chest.

"I know Sherlock. I know. But still, the best thing we can do now is to continue on living and be happy over the fact that we are still alive and that our children are alive. And the fact that you were so determined to come back to us that you even defied death," John murmured while softly massaging Sherlock's right ear.

"I love you John. I love you so much..." Sherlock said suddenly and cuddled against John's chin.

John let out a soft chuckle and stroke Sherlock's head.

"I love you too Sherlock," he replied and hugged the big wolf-head tightly.

Sherlock growled contently and wagged his tail happily before his bones started cracking and he suddenly lay naked in John's lap with his eyes staring adoringly at John.

"Hi," Sherlock said with a bright smile.

"Hi," John smiled, leaning down and kissing Sherlock tenderly.

Sherlock dug his fingers into the back of John's head and returned the kiss passionately.

John moaned inside Sherlock's mouth.

Sherlock smiled at this and broke the kiss, letting John lie down beside him instead of sitting.

When the army doctor had positioned himself, he immediately searched for Sherlock's lips and started kissing them tenderly but still with a hint of yearning.

Sherlock pushed himself softly against John's clothed body, deepening the kiss with his tongue. John moaned again and started unbuttoning his pants but his action was interrupted by a lean hand on his own.

"No. Not now," Sherlock whispered softly with a husky voice.

John gave him a questioning look and was just about to say something when Sherlock began speaking again.

"I need to rest, or well, not me but my sack...and the child that's starting to grow inside me," Sherlock whispered and put John's hand to his belly while he smiled brightly.

John raised an eyebrow but he was smiling.

"Already? I mean we only just had sex about twenty minutes ago," John whispered, looking at Sherlock with eyes that glowed with wonder.

Sherlock nodded.

"Already," he said, his smile going wider.

John's smile grew wider as well. He actually liked the thought of having another child. It made him warm inside and he would get closer to Sherlock again in a way he couldn't explain and that was always something good.

Sherlock noticed John's ebullience and hugged him tightly.

"You are happy that we are going to have another child. That makes me the happiest man in the world," he said blissfully and dug his head into John's neck.

John laughed softly and hugged him back even tighter.

"Of course it makes me happy," he murmured.

Chapter 7

Notes:

A bit of blood and mentions of mpreg in this chapter, nothing too explicit.

Please enjoy.

"John? I think you have a visitor." Sherlock called softly to John as he heard a woman coming and positioning herself outside the door. He had heard her coming a couple of minutes ago. Sherlock thought she was very noisy, well, everyone was noisy for him because of his good-hearing but she was particularity noisy for being a human. He knew she was a woman because of her light steps.

"A visitor?" John asked with a frown and walked down the stairs to see whoever it was.

He opened the door and the sight of the person in front of him stunned him a little.

"Harry?" he chuckled and frowned his forehead at the same time. "What are you doing here?" he asked somewhat bewildered and moved out of the way to let her into the apartment.

"I was thinking I should spontaneously visit you! I haven't seen you for years Brother and I really want to see what you are up to now, so I checked you up on the internet and it turned out that you live here with someone called Holmes!" Harry said as she entered the apartment. She took off her black high heels, red trench coat and hurried up the stairway.

An action typical of Harry Watson... John thought irritatingly and headed after her.

He felt a little uncomfortable with Harry visiting him and his family because he had never mentioned her to either his children nor Sherlock. The only thing Sherlock knew about her was that she was an alcoholic which he had deduced by one look on John's mobile phone.

Harry scuttled into the living room where Sherlock was watching television with their children. It was raining today so they hadn't been outside.

"Hello there!" Harry said as she entered the room and sat down on the sofa beside Astrid, Tim and Sherlock. They all gave her suspicious looks and Sherlock perked his left eyebrow.

"Hello...?" he said and looked at a very troubled John before looking at Harry again.

"His sister," he deduced immediately when he saw her hair colour and her John-like grey/blue eyes.

"Hello there! I'm Harry Watson, or Harriet, but please call me Harry! I'm John's sister," she said and stretched out her hand to greet them. Sherlock wrinkled his nose a little when he smelled her breath. It wore a small tint of alcohol. Tim stretched out his hand and they greeted each other. Harry's face wore an over exaggerating smile.

"I'm Tim, or Timothy." Tim said releasing her hand quickly before cuddling up in Sherlock's lap.

Harry nodded at his name, still smiling over exaggeratedly before she turned to Astrid and they greeted as well and then lastly she greeted Sherlock.

"What happened with your eye?" she asked rudely with enormous eyes and a shocked gasp when she noticed Sherlock's blind eye.

"Injury." Sherlock replied shortly and patted Tim's head. He didn't like this woman at all. He understood why John never talked about her.

"I'm sorry," she said without even sounding sorry and rose from the sofa. John was still standing in the kitchen making some tea for them and Sherlock could smell his discomfort. He wanted to go tohim and kiss away his discomfort but he refrained from doing so when Harry started talking.

"So, uhm, you and Sherlock... You are a couple?" Harry asked a bit awkwardly and took out cups from the cupboards. "And the children? Did you adopt them?" she added.

"Yes, we are a couple and we have been together for six years." John replied a tad bit annoyed, he counted the years Sherlock had been dead. He cast a questioning glance at Sherlock before answering about the children. "They are adopted."

"For six years? And you haven't told me anything about it?!" Harry growled, completely ignoring the answer about the children and put the cups down on the table with a loud bang, one of the cups breaking into pieces.

"Look what you did! You have to pay it back!" John growled at the sight of the broken cup and shook his head. "I don't even understand what you are doing here? You are tipsy and you come tramping into my house and believe you can do what you want! What was your purpose of even coming here?!" John growled angrily while staring furiously at his sister with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing after all these years we haven't talked... I just wanted to-" she broke off.

"See how I am doing by coming here and thinking you own everything? You are a joke Harry! Get out of my house and leave us alone!" John spat furiously, his face turning red from anger. Harry gave him a hurt look before quickly turning around, going to the stairs. Before she went down the stairs she said "I will call you later."

The door closed and John sunk down on the floor with a strained inhalation.

"John!" Sherlock called worriedly and quickly got off the sofa and hurried his way to John, squatting down beside him. He took John's pulse, noticing that it was irregular and too fast. John started breathing shallowly and Sherlock helped him up from the floor and to the couch where the children had moved out of the way. Sherlock laid John down on the couch and tucked a blanket over him. John gave him an exhausted look before grunting from pain.

Sherlock hurried to the bathroom to fetch some medicines to relieve John's pain. While he was away Tim and Astrid sat down on the floor beside the couch, each holding one of the sleeping John's hands.

"Daddy's going to be all right? Isn't he?" Tim asked Astrid worriedly while he was caressing his daddy's hand softly. Astrid nodded.

"I'm sure he is going to be okay. Papa knows how to fix things." she replied softly and patted Tim's shoulder with her free hand. She wrinkled her nose in disgust when she noticed that Tim was clammy. She gave him a worried look.

"Tim are you all right?" but the boy didn't answer. His whole body started shaking and he put his right hand on his head as he screamed out in intense pain.

Astrid cried for Sherlock whom came running with his hands full of medicines. He put an IV into John's arm before he squatted down beside his children and put his hand on Tim's shoulder.

"Tim? Answer me Tim. What is happening to you," he asked his son deeply worried but Tim kept shaking and sobbing and grunting in pain before he suddenly stopped. Sherlock drew him close to his chest and patted his head slowly.

"You all right?" Sherlock asked with his voice still a bit worried. Tim nodded slowly, his body still sweaty.

"What happened? Please tell me."

"I... I had a vision... I have had one of these before... When... when the black man in robe was here and Daddy got hurt." Tim replied slowly, shuddering a bit at the memory.

"What kind of vision did you have then?" Sherlock asked and kissed the top of Tim's head while holding him in his arms. Astrid kissed John's knuckle while listening to her Papa and brother.

"It was before everything happened... I saw you and Daddy fighting and it kinda fast forwarded and Daddy was lying on the floor screaming in pain and then the black robed man came and suddenly I was awake with Astrid looking at me." Tim explained and leaned into Sherlock's chest, relaxing a bit.

"So you had a vision of the future?" Tim nodded. "That is amazing..." said Sherlock awestruck thinking how it would be to have an ability like that though he didn't understand how it was possible. He had never heard of a werewolf with the ability of seeing the future before.

"An ability like that can help us when there is danger about. You seem to have them only when there is danger." Sherlock pondered and that reminded him that Tim had just had a vision.

"Tim darling, what happened in the vision you had now?" Sherlock asked. Tim turned around to look at his father.

"I... I don't know... I think there was something with Daddy..." Tim said and the words made Sherlock's stomach drop. John was very fragile now, Anderson really needed to find him a cure. Sherlock wondered why the man hadn't called him.

"I'm sorry that I don't remember Papa..." Tim said sorrowfully but Sherlock shook his head and hugged his son.

"It's okay darling. It's okay. I have to make a call, I will be back in just a minute."

Sherlock hurried away to his and John's room to make a call to Anderson.

Astrid and Tim remained at John's side.

---

"Anderson, have you come up with a cure yet? It is urgent. John is getting weaker; he can't even fight with anyone any more because he is so fragile! Please tell me you've got a cure ready for him!" Sherlock blabbered when Anderson picked up the phone.

"Now now Sherlock. Easy. Of course he is getting weaker; I think he is really going to die soon." Anderson said slowly and without thinking of the consequences of his words.

Sherlock's heart skipped a beat in fright.

"Dying soon?" Sherlock gasped. "Please Anderson please you've got to give us a cure!" Sherlock begged while trying to swallow the growing knot in his throat.

"Easy Sherlock." Anderson repeated himself. "I have found a cure though I would rather talk about it with you in person."

"That is wonderful Anderson! Can you come here tomorrow night for a dinner? I need to take care of my children and John right now," Sherlock asked and realized that this was the first time he had ever invited anyone to dinner.

"Of course. No problem at all. What time do you want me to come?"

"Around 7 PM would be good," Sherlock answered and Anderson hummed as an answer.

"See you tomorrow then," Sherlock said with a happy voice and Anderson ended the call.

---

"Welcome Anderson!" Sherlock greeted his old friend with a warm hug as Anderson entered the apartment. He had braided his long hair and still had the same feather tucked into it.

"Hello Sherlock, John, Astrid and Tim," Anderson replied with a shimmering smile and hugged Sherlock tightly, too tight in John's opinion. He let out a soft almost inaudible growl in disapproval but of course Sherlock heard it and he started grinning at the sound. Astrid and Tim waved at him as a reply. Sherlock's now swollen but still not very big belly bumped into Anderson's stomach which made Anderson's face turn a little sour. He didn't like Sherlock being pregnant with John's children as he wished he was the one that had mated with Sherlock and not John.

Anderson released Sherlock quickly to not feel his little bump and turned to the children.

"Wow you have grown!" he said and hugged them both tightly. He had always loved them in a particular way even though it was clearly a fact that they were a mix between Sherlock's and John's DNA. He had always loved them in an 'Anderson'-way. Sometimes he saw them as his own children, especially Astrid but he would never ever tell that to anyone. John wheeled to Anderson and shook Anderson's outstretched hand firmly.

"Hello there Anderson," John said a bit strained.

"Hello to you John," Anderson replied with a smile and shook John's hand before John quickly released it and wheeled to the kitchen. Anderson could smell his jealously and anger and it pleased him.

Anderson went after them and sat down at the already set table.

"So what have you been cooking," he asked his friends as he leaned backwards on the chair.

"We've made some traditional fish 'n' chips and Astrid made the remoulade sauce." Sherlock replied softly as he came walking with a tray carrying a bowl full of delicious fish and chips and another smaller bowl stood beside it with home-made remoulade. John wheeled to his place and Anderson helped him move the chair that was in John's way. They ate the food and discussed different things of what Anderson had been doing the latest days and Anderson wondered how it was going for Astrid and Tim in school and they talked about other things as well. Time passed by and it became bed time for the children. Anderson waited patiently in the living room while Sherlock and John were putting the children to sleep. They came back after a couple of minutes and sat down on the couch across from the couch where Anderson was sitting.

"Okay Anderson, I've a couple of questions for you. First off, how can you tell if your children are able to breed? I don't know if Astrid and Tim are able to breed yet and I don't know how to check." Sherlock asked a bit embarrassed. John took Sherlock's hand and squeezed it tightly while looking at Anderson.

"It kind of shocks me that you don't remember how it is with us werewolves Sherlock. Have you been with humans for far too long?" Anderson said sarcastically before continuing. "You must remember this Sherlock. Every werewolf is sterile at birth and there are only a few of us that receive the gift of breeding. You and Moriarty-fortunately he didn't focus on breeding-were the first ones in generations gifted with the ability to breed and that was the sole reason for you to leave your summer trip with Mycroft and go to England to find your mate. It is a random event and it cannot be predicted. You just have to wait and see when your children reach maturity to see if they are able to breed or not, I am afraid," Anderson explained while rocking back and forth on his chair.His eyes were a bit cold as he watched Sherlock and John holding hands.

"Oh right..." Sherlock said, scratching his nose in embarrassment. How could he have forgotten such an important thing?

"That is how it is," Anderson replied softly and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Yes," Sherlock replied and they were silent for a moment.

"I need to go to the bathroom." John said, breaking the silence and carefully making his way into his wheelchair and wheeled away to the bathroom. Anderson opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock with a brighter gaze than before.

"Take the opportunity to tell me what cure you have for John while he is away." Sherlock said hastily and looked at Anderson with hope shining in his eyes.

"I have looked everywhere in every book and every source on the internet and the only thing I could find about how to cure a human mate's broken bond is to transform him into a werewolf," Anderson said slowly, trying not to make his voice brim with disgust and anger. He didn't want John to be one of them. That was too much of a privilege for John in Anderson's opinion and if Sherlock turned John then Anderson would never have an opportunity to be alone with Sherlock in any way. Sherlock would share everything with John as a wouldn't even be able to think for himself since werewolves could hear each other's thoughts and it angered him since he wanted to fantasize about Sherlock alone without John snooping in... At least alone at the werewolf camp he can fantasize about Sherlock without the other werewolves breaking into his thoughts but if John were to be transformed, especially when at the werewolf camp, he would never be able to indulge in his fantasies. And, though he was loathe to admit it, the strong connection between Sherlock and John made him doubt his ability to fantasize about Sherlock in peace, even when John isn't around because Sherlock seems to be such a laser focus for John that Anderson doesn't doubt that John would be able to sense Anderson's stray thoughts and fantasies about Sherlock.

Sherlock stared at Anderson for a moment before his eyes turned black with anger.

"To transform him is the only cure you could find for him? Are you serious? That is preposterous!" Sherlock snarled angrily and almost raised himself from the sofa.

"It is indeed the only cure. I promise Sherlock, I wouldn't lie to you," Anderson softly said and tried to calm Sherlock down by whining softly but Sherlock just sat there with his inner demons screaming in anger.

"There's got to be another cure Anderson! I won't transform him; it will mean death for him! I just won't do that!" Sherlock said and shook his head.

"Why wouldn't you? He is your whole life isn't he? Then why won't you transform him if that is the only thing that can save him?" Anderson asked not understanding Sherlock at all.

Sherlock opened his mouth only to close it again. John would die if he decided to not transform him, and John would have a fifty percent chanceof dying if he decided to transform him. Either way he chose, John would still have a chance of dying. Sherlock started pulling his hair in frustration.

"I don't know what to do, I don't know what do to, I don't know what do to, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!" Sherlock suddenly shouted and fired himself up off the couch. He totally panicked and lost his mind for a couple of seconds.

Anderson raised himself from the couch as well, walked around the table and put his hands on Sherlock's shoulders and deeply looked into his eyes.

"Sherlock. Calm down," Anderson's voice whispered inside the detectives mind but Sherlock only flickered his eyes and kept tugging his hair while whispering panicked words to himself. Anderson sighed deeply and did a thing he never ever would believe he could muster the courage to do. He leaned towards Sherlock's face and gave him a tender kiss induced with a portion of mind healing werewolf magic. It would help Sherlock calm down. Sherlock gave in to the kiss and kissed Anderson deeply, not actually thinking of whom he was kissing, he just wanted the taste of calmness which Anderson more than happily gave him. Anderson let out a muffled moan when Sherlock instinctively put his large hand at the back of Anderson's head and pulled him closer to his scorching hot body. Anderson wanted to take Sherlock roughly right down on the floor right now but he knew he couldn't because John might becoming back soon and the rules of the werewolves.

"Rule one; never steal another werewolf's mate, it will be your own death," the elders voice spoke inside Anderson's head as he remembered the first and most important rule and the ridiculous rule angered him deeply.

Anderson gave Sherlock more of his werewolf calming magic before he broke the kiss and stepped away from Sherlock but he was still looking at the lanky man with big pupils. When the magic of the kiss was broken, Sherlock realized what he had just done. A thorn of guilt hurt inside his chest.

"I'm sorry John. I will never do this again," he promised himself and stared at the floor. At least he had calmed down.

"So Sherlock... What are you going to do?" Anderson asked as returned to his place on the couch.

"I don't know yet. I need to talk with him first." Sherlock said, still a little tired out from what he actually had done.

"Sounds like a good idea, but do not wait too long. Tick tock." Anderson said right before John returned. It felt like he had been away for an hour but he had only been away for about two minutes. John wheeled to the couch and went from his wheelchair to the sofa in a heartbeat.

"Oh yes, before I forget to tell you: Mycroft has plans about resurrecting Lestrade and it is happening tonight." Anderson said smoothly and waited for both men's reactions.

"It was expected." Sherlock said at last. "I have noticed that there has been something different about him and it is understandable that he wants Lestrade returned to life. Though I cannot understand why he would be so foolish. It is dangerous to resurrect a human." Sherlock said with a frown on his face. John remained quiet.

"Indeed it is but I have given him some advice so everything should go well." Anderson said and looked out of the window. "The moon will be at its peak in about ten minutes."

"Oh dear. I should go there and see if everything is going all right. I don't want my brother to die." Sherlock said while getting off the couch. "John my love, I will go to Mycroft but I will return when the resurrection is over, okay? You will stay here with Anderson and the children. You can bear that, can you not?" Sherlock said softly to John and placed a kiss on his lips before quickly dressing himself in his outerwear and leaving the apartment without waiting on an answer from John.

John sighed deeply at Sherlock's never ending behaviour and turned his gaze from the stairs to Anderson.

"Then there is only you and me and two sleeping children." he said with a sigh.

"Yep that is right." Anderson replied and looked at John with narrow pupils. Anger flared like a wildfire inside him. He just wanted to hurt John because of him stealing Anderson's only purpose to live.

"You know what John..." Anderson said slowly while keeping his gaze locked on John's face.

"No what, Anderson?" John said with a nicer voice since he could hear the tensionin Anderson's voice.

"When you die you are going to be all alone in human's after life," said Anderson with a large, mean grin on his face.

"A human's after life? What are you talking about?" John asked with a worried voice, putting his hands onto his chest while looking steady at Anderson.

"I am talking about the fact that you are going to be all alone in the human's version of after life while Sherlock is going to be with Astrid, Tim and our werewolf God Fenrir in our after life. Sherlock isn't going to transform you and thus you won't be with him when you've died," Anderson said scornfully, his eyes brimming with triumph.

John felt his heart speeding up.
"W-what are you talking about Anderson," he stammered as his heart started aching.

"I'm telling you the truth John." Anderson sneered and raised himself from the sofa. "You are going to be all by yourself when you are rotting in your own grave while Sherlock is spending his afterlife with your children," his breath puffed, now close to John's face as Anderson had leant down over him.

"It is a pity John, isn't it? That Sherlock won't transform you..." Anderson whispered and stroked John's cheek teasingly.

John put his hands on Anderson's chest and pushed him away with such force that Anderson fell backwards over the table. Splashes of blood coloured the light brown table as Anderson hurt his head in the impact of John's push but Anderson seemed to be in no pain as he got off the table and stood on the other side of the floor. He let out a loud laugh at the now crying John.

"You are so pathetic John. I hate you. I have always hated you," Anderson confessed while looking at John with a hateful gaze. John just stared at him in return with tears streaming down his cheeks. He gasped for air as his heart struggled with its beats.

Anderson walked to John again and clawed his face with his now sharp nails, giving him five long and deep scratch marks across the right side of his face.

"That's for you stealing my life from me. Sherlock." he growled and licked off the blood from his fingers.

"Out! Out of my house!" John screamed at the man and kicked Anderson's legs but Anderson easily avoided John's attack and let out a loud laugh.

"You think you can hurt me with that?!" he laughed scornfully. "You wimp! I hope you die before Sherlock turns you into one of us!"

John collected every ounce of his power and managed to get off from the floor and literally push Anderson out of the house.

"You are not welcome here again!" he screamed furiously before closing the door with a loud bang in front of Anderson's menacingly laughing face. When the door closed, John sunk down on the floor with his hand tightly pressed against his chest and tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn't believe Sherlock would do such a thing against him. Leave him all alone in his after life without the possibility to be with his family. The pain in his chest overwhelmed him as he started screaming uncontrollably.

---

"Daddy! My vision!" Tim gasped suddenly as he shot straight up in his bed. Astrid woke up with a jolt as she heard her brother's voice and her daddy screaming.

"Downstairs! Now!" Astrid said quickly and they hurried their way down the stairs.

Tim sunk down on his knees at John's side and enveloped his hands around John's as Astrid was away, fetching emergency medicine for John.

"It will be okay Daddy, I promise..." Tim murmured softly while his tears dripped down on John's already wet face. He caressed John's hands. John looked at him and smiled sadly.

"I'm sure it will," he replied to his son, his voice staggered. Tim nodded and smiled reassuringly to his father before he leaned down and kissed John's uninjured chin."

"I love you Daddy," Tim whispered, his tears continuing to drip down on John's face.

"I love you too Timothy," John murmured back.

"What happened to your chin?" Tim asked after a couple of seconds.

"Anderson made it," John whispered for an answer, his eyes screwing shut as the wounds started stinging.

"I will hurt him," Tim thought angrily to himself while he watched his Daddy in pain.

Astrid came after a minute with her hands full of John's medicine and a compress for John's wound. She squatted down at John's side and started treating his wound while speaking to him about the dream she had. John started calming down even more from hearing Astrid's voice and he managed not to pass out from the pain. When John had calmed down fully, Astrid and Tim helped him to get to his and Sherlock's bedroom and tucked the blanket over him. Astrid even succeeded in putting the IV to John's arm.

"Now you ought to rest," she said slowly to her daddy and kissed his uninjured cheek.

"I will," John replied softly giving both of his children a pat on their heads. "I love you and you are so talented." he added proudly while giving them a loving smile.

"We love you too daddy. Now rest and wait for Papa to come home," Astrid replied softly,

"How do you know he is away?" John asked with a tired frown on his face.

Astrid smiled.

"He told us where he was going through his thoughts." she said before she and Tim hugged their father tightly before returning to their bedroom.

John nodded when he was alone, then he started thinking about what Anderson said and he started crying again. How could Sherlock even do that to him?

–

Half an hour earlier...

"Now rise, son of Man!" Mycroft chanted as he emptied the blood filled cup over Lestrade's moonlit grave. The grass started bubbling and soon enough it erupted like a tiny bomb had been placed there and a large hand stuck up from the soil. Another hand came up from the same hole and they started digging the ground with long nails. Soon enough, Lestrade's grey speckled hair could be seen from the grave and with a low grunt, the DI dug himself up from the grave.

"Food... food..." Lestrade hissed, sounding very similar to a snake. He stretched out his dirty hand in Mycroft's direction. He stared at Sherlock and Mycroft with bloodshot eyes and hissed on and off while moving his head in a reptile like manner.
"Food..." he hissed between his teeth and stretched out his tongue like a snake. Sherlock perked an eyebrow at Mycroft and noticed that the man was crying from happiness. He cleared his throat and used his elbow to wake Mycroft up from his blissfulness. Mycroft looked stunned for a second before finally waking up from his love trance.

"C-come here Lestrade, I will give you some food." Mycroft said with an unsteady voice and stretched out his scarred arm towards Lestrade.

The former DI walked to Mycroft in a zombie like manner and gripped Mycroft's arm with sharp nails. He dug the nails into Mycroft's delicate skin and cut a long wound beside one of Mycroft's visible veins. He put his dirty, dry lips to the already bleeding wound and slurped the red liquid. Low grunts of pleasure escaped Lestrade's mouth as he was feeding. Sherlock gave the man a disgusted look and then looked at Mycroft with an "are you serious?" gaze. Mycroft nodded.

"I love him," he mimed and softly caressed Lestrade's dirty hair. Sherlock thought he looked more relaxed and content than he had ever done since Lestrade's death. After seven years of agony, he had finally reunited with his missing puzzle piece.

A sudden vision of John lying on the floor screaming in pain bolted in front of Sherlock's eyes. He drew a quick breath and stared at Mycroft.

"I need to go back, call me as soon as he is somewhat normal again," Sherlock said to his brother but Mycroft was occupied with sounding very aroused as Lestrade licked Mycroft's blood from him and into his mouth. It gave Sherlock disgusted creeps.

–

Sherlock jumped out of the cab, hurrying his way into 221B. When he entered his apartment he was met by a very angry and hurt looking army doctor standing right at the door with an IV stuck to his arm.

"John?" Sherlock breathed out worriedly as he saw the compress stuck to John's face. He hurried towards him and embraced him tightly but still carefully. John was stiff as a stick in his embrace and he released him.

"John? Please speak to me," Sherlock begged and put his hands on his lover's shoulders. "Please..."

John turned his face down to the floor and clenched his fists. His body started trembling and he started breathing shallowly.

"John? What is happening? Is it your heart?" Sherlock asked worriedly and put his hand to John's chest to ease his pain, as always.

John slowly shook his head; he turned his head upwards and looked at Sherlock with black eyes.

"How can you be so selfish?! How can you be so incredibly mean?!" he suddenly shouted and started hitting Sherlock's chest with his fists. "How can you even allow me to be alone?!" he shouted even louder while continuing to hit Sherlock's chest hard.

"If you don't transform me, I will FORCE Mycroft to transform me!" John shouted.

Sherlock's stomach twisted with anger as he heard John utter these words. John was his and if someone was going to transform him, it was Sherlock and Sherlock alone. He swallowed his anger and started speaking:

"J-John please calm down... What are you-" he broke off by John hitting him hard in his face with his fist. Sherlock's skin immediately turned blue from the fist and a small red wound opened right under his eye.

"J-john please I can explain-" he broke off again.

"NO! You can NOT explain! You have nothing to explain! You don't love me enough to turn me! I knew it! I have known it all along!" John screamed and tears erupted from the corner of his eyes.

"I knew you don't love me fully enough... No one does and no one ever will..." he sobbed, his whole body relaxing as his legs failed him and he fell down on the floor, his head touching the small bump that Sherlock's belly had turned into. As he landed on his knees, he fixated his gaze on the bump where he had a child waiting to come out. Sherlock squatted down in front of him and drew him close.

"Please John... Never doubt my love... never do that... I beg you..." Sherlock whispered slowly next to John's ear while he caressed John's soft hair.

"Why won't you transform me then...? Anderson told me that... I will be all alone when I'm dead if you don't transform me... I don't want to be alone again... I don't ever want to be left alone again..." John murmured between his sobs. "Please transform me Sherlock... Please..." he sobbed.

Sherlock grimaced painfully at his words.

"I'm sorry I haven't told you about that... Anderson was the one that hurt you too, yes?" he whispered and touched the scratch wound carefully. John nodded against his cheek and sniffed a little. Sherlock growled deep in his throat.

"I will kill him," he thought angrily while drawing John closer.

"John. Never doubt my love please. I love you more than anything in the whole world," Sherlock then begged and held John tightly in his arms.

"I won't doubt your love for me... I just can't believe that you would do that to me. To actually leave me out of the werewolves' after life... Why Sherlock?" John murmured after a while.

"Because I don't want to kill you," Sherlock answered shortly. John just nodded as an answer and released himself from Sherlock's embrace.

"I will die anyway," John said, then he raised himself from the floor and went to the bedroom. Sherlock hurried with taking off his outerwear, he went to the bedroom as well when he was ready. He crawled under the covers and put his arms around his John who only wore boxers. Sherlock spooned him softly.

"I love you," he murmured softly close to John's ear.

"I love you too Sherlock."

"Would you like to have that vacation now? To go to the werewolf camp?" Sherlock asked softly and snuggled John's warm neck. John nodded.

"I would love to."

"Then I will make it happen. I will tell the children and we will go there in the evening tomorrow. I will carry you on my back," Sherlock replied lovingly, loving every second of being close to John.

John nodded slowly, seeming not to want to talk right now.

"Everything will be all right and you will be healed," Sherlock promised as he turned off the light though he wouldn't transform John yet. He would first look if the werewolf camp could heal him and if it didn't, then he had to take drastic measures.

Series this work belongs to:

• « Part 2 of the The Bloodline series series