Sherlock watched John over the table. Mycroft was trying to shield John from Sherlock, generally by keeping them from being in sight of each other. Right now, Mycroft had his arm around John's shoulders, keeping him close, and sending out an obvious claim over the doctor. Sherlock growled softly. How dare Mycroft so blatantly flaunt a claim over what was his. Sherlock knew that he and John were still married; Although Mycroft could have dug up some papers, John would not have let him. John would not leave him.

Sherlock weaved through the people and over to Mycroft and John, still scowling. Mycroft visibly tensed – Sherlock had not tried to talk to them the entire time they had been at Mummy's – but he did not try to avoid Sherlock. It would have been too noticeably rude. Sherlock stopped in front of them, and the tension in the room thickened.

"Mycroft," Sherlock snarled in greeting, before turning to John, scowl lessening considerably. Sherlock gently – it had to be gentle; Mycroft would not allow anything else – grabbed John's face and pulled him into a soft kiss. John tensed extremely and, after a moment, responded into the kiss, relaxing slowly against into the familiar touch. Sherlock pulled away slowly, not letting go of John's face.

"You're mine, John. Mine. Forever." He let go of John's face. "You're moving back in with me, John."

John stiffened. "No."

Sherlock sighed. John was worried about Sherlock hurting him again. Ridiculous. He shouldn't have even been hurt in the first place. Sherlock was married to John, not the man he had been sleeping with those years.

"I won't run off again." Not a promise – he could do otherwise if he wanted. Mycroft was watching Sherlock searchingly. He would know that Sherlock wasn't promising anything to John. Sherlock felt like flipping him off but settled for a quick glare.

"No, Sherlock," Mycroft finally voiced, "You can't have him back."

"He wants to come back with me. Look at him."

Mycroft sighed softly. "You'll just hurt him again."

Sherlock scowled. "Piss off, Mycroft. You don't get a say. He's not yours. Come on, John."

The elder vampire's arm tightened slightly around John. "You don't have to go if you don't want to, John."

John looked between them for a moment before sighing softly. "I'm sorry, Mycroft…" He ducked out from under Mycroft's arm and took Sherlock's hand, squeezing it gently. Sherlock smiled triumphantly at Mycroft, who frowned faintly.

"You're free to move back in later, if you need to," Mycroft offered, a soft sigh escaping him, "If you two will excuse me…"

Sherlock's grin widened as Mycroft walked away. He had won John again.

John gently looked over his arm. Broken. John took a deep breath. Sherlock didn't mean to hurt him. Not really. He was just trying to drive in the point that John was his. John bit his lip and went into the kitchen to make himself some tea.

A black car drove up to the flat. John saw it out the window and sighed. Mycroft. He had to be there for John; Sherlock was out.

John limped down the stairs. The car door was opened and John slipped in.

John sat on the bed. It was soft and the sheets were in muted tones that John might pick. His arm had been set and placed in a cast, and his other smaller wounds attended to. John sighed softly. The door to the room swung open and Mycroft walked in, smiling at John.

"You look better."

"Yes. Thank you. May I go home now?"

Mycroft frowned and went over to John and gently, hestitantly, took John's face in his hands.

"You can't go back, John. He'll kill you. Not on purpose, but the outcome is the same."

"He needs me, Mycroft."

"And you need to heal." Mycroft dropped his hands, "And you're staying here at least until your arm is better. John sighed softly, shaking his head.


Mycroft smiled. "Good. I have to go now…." He paused. "I'm sorry I didn't get to you first. You wouldn't be hurting like this."

John shook his head. "It's not your fault."

Mycroft leaned down and kissed John softly. "You're too kind, John." He pulled away and smiled. "Have a good day, John. I'll see you later." Mycroft turned and left, closing the door with a soft click.

Sherlock stared at John for a moment before ushering him in, and pulling John into a tight hug, frowning when John flinches. Sherlock leaned in and kissed him gently. "I missed you."

John leaned softly into the kiss. "I know…"

Sherlock pulled away, looking John over.

"I'm hungry…." He stated softly.

John hesitated, before taking Sherlock's hand, leading him upstairs into the flat. "Let's get inside first, at least."

Sherlock squeezed John's hand. John was obviously tired, hadn't been sleeping much. John stopped when he got inside, Sherlock closing the door behind them and sitting on the sofa.

"You didn't change it, after I moved out."

"Can't change anything without talking to any husband."

John turned to him before smiling faintly, going over to Sherlock and crawling into his lap, cocking his head. "Go on; You're hungry."

Sherlock slowly bit into John's neck, lapping at the blood carefully. John slowly relaxed. Sherlock was being careful with him; it was an apology. John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair.

Sherlock pulled away a while later, going to get John a plaster, covering the small wound, before kissing John again softly.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't want to leave. Mycroft kidnapped me."

Sherlock shook his head. "It's good that he did. I…" Sherlock swallowed, "I was wrong. So wrong, to hurt you."

John stared at him in surprised, before hugging him tightly, "You know that I don't love Mycroft. I was just hurt that you left me for someone else."

Sherlock pulled away, confusion on his face. "Where did you get that idea? You know that there's no one else I've wanted before."

John shook his head. "When you left me for three years. Sherlock, Mycroft told me you were with another man…"

Sherlock pulled John into a hard kiss. "I'll kill him. I was on a case for HIM! I told him to take care of you, not lie to you and try to take you away!"

John blinked.

"A case?"

"Yes. Mycroft blackmailed me into it, and I couldn't bring a human with me." Sherlock frowned at John, slight confusion on his face, "You know there wouldn't be any other reason for me to stay away from you that long, without you wanting me not to see you." A pause, "You do know that, yes?"

John sighed, relaxing deeply into Sherlock.

"No. I didn't know that, Sherlock. I can't read people's most inner thoughts on their face. I thought you had left me for someone else."

Sherlock shook his head. "No, I didn't."

John kissed Sherlock softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't think that he could be lying."

"Of course he lied! It's Mycroft. You didn't think full stop."

John smacked his arm playfully, and smiled.

"Sherlock, don't go again."

Sherlock pulled John close. "I'll take you with me."

John leaned against Sherlock and yawned. "Good."

John knew that it wasn't all better. Sherlock still had abused him, tortured him. But it was getting better. It would be better.