I ended up fitting everything else in one chapter. So this is the end. Sorry all the updates were forever apart, but I knew I would finish eventually... Thanks for reading! Hope the ending doesn't fall flat. Love you all so much for the reviews, favourites, and follows!
Sherlock and Moriarty were still pacing around each other, talking. Probably it was great witty banter John was missing, but he was too busy thinking harder than he ever had before to hear any of it.
There had to be a way to do this so John didn't even have to figure out whether this Drop of Sunlight would kill Sherlock. He hoped he never figured out if the Drop would kill an ordinary vampire, if that meant Sherlock was nowhere near danger.
Just then, something must have happened that made one of them angry, or there was some non-verbal cue or something, because suddenly a cacophony of sound erupted, like hissing and screeching and who the hell knows what else. It was actually a little petrifying, because that was Sherlock in there, but he knew that being freaked out wouldn't help, so he forced himself to stay calm.
Think, think, think. There had to be a way.
He tried to follow them fighting, but it was hard, because they were going at vampire speed. He knew that they kept moving around the area a lot though, and sometimes they'd be close to him and sometimes farther away.
Sherlock, I've got an idea. Get him as far as you can.
Far? That's hardly—
Please. Just do it.
If you're trying to keep me from being affected, there's only one of those Drops of Sunlight. They're hard to come by, and knowing my father, he'll rid the whole Dimension of them if he realises they're a weakness of his. You can't fail on account of my safety.
He was lying a bit, but he hoped it would work. It made sense in his own mind. Which might not seem like much compared to the two Holmes men, as they were geniuses, but the thing with geniuses was that they always underestimated simpler people. They didn't expect to be tricked.
That was what he was betting on, at least.
So he waited for the fight to move a little farther away. John eventually was able to glance at the trinket for barely a second as he waited. It was the shape of a tear drop, the size of a pearl, but a bright gold instead of white. He wondered how a kitsune actually harnessed sunlight like this. If he and Sherlock lived through this, maybe he'd ask one.
Because if he was being honest, his idea was possibly going to be the death of him.
Since his idea was to pretend he was escaping. And then Moriarty would come running, and John wouldn't have even a second to touch the Drop of Sunlight before Moriarty ripped his throat out or something.
He kept watching.
John, I am completely against your plan.
Well too bad it's my call, seeing as I have the Drop and can make it work and you can't.
Don't be immature.
It's the only way to reason with you.
Just… please be careful, John.
John smiled at the desperation in the voice, and thought for a moment of the Sherlock he met a few months back, who never could have sounded like that towards anyone or anything. It seemed so damn long ago.
Not that John could make that promise. His plan sure as hell wasn't careful. But he was pretty sure it'd work… as long as just one little drop of sunlight worked at all, since it was just a theory… and he might die in the process… but otherwise the plan was perfect.
So yeah, it wasn't great. But what other choice did he have?
So he only had to pretend to get up for a second. Just a second. Moriarty would see.
Then Sherlock got them twenty metres away, and John figured he wouldn't get better. He pretended to get up, and in the same moment, he touched the Drop on the ground.
Many things happened at once. The first was that a blinding light filled the area, causing him to shut his eyes. Then a hard something slammed into him. Then there was a sharp, horrible pain in his neck. There was a screech that didn't sound like a human, didn't sound like anything John's ever heard, but it didn't last long. The weight on him went away.
After a long moment, John opened his eyes. On his front… all that was on him was ash. Dear god, was that… He grinned. It worked. He knew it would!
Okay, not knew, precisely.
And then he saw Sherlock. On the ground only a metre away. His coat smoking.
"Sherlock!" he gasped, getting up and ignoring the pain in his neck, not caring about it at the moment. He stumbled to Sherlock, falling over on top of him. His eyes were shut, his skin in some places peeling and black, or red and raw. "No, Sherlock, you better not—" That was about the moment when he remembered his neck, because it must've stung because it got bit. So he leaned down and pressed it to Sherlock's mouth.
"Sherlock, you damn arsehole, you better drink this or I'll find you in the afterlife and fucking kill you, you hear me?"
Still nothing. He didn't know what to do, or where his lungs had gone. Who cared if Moriarty was gone if Sherlock was too? Who cared… well, about anything?
"No, Sherlock," he said in a whimper…
That is before he felt the lips move against his neck. Felt teeth gently slide in the wounds that were already present.
Sherlock's wrist was in his face a moment later, and there was a gash in it that likely Moriarty caused. John understood why. A wound to the neck really was a bit of an emergency, after all, so he needed the healing as much as Sherlock did. And maybe he was still short on blood from his whipping, even if he couldn't feel his back anymore. So he sucked at it for a few moments, and Sherlock's thoughts curled with his own, but before a memory surfaced, Sherlock backed away.
"I'm fine. If you and I trade much more blood, you'll run out of human blood all together, and that'll turn you."
John had never known that. Why hadn't Sherlock ever mentioned it?
But he knew before he even thought it what the answer was. Because it made John consider the whole vampirism thing. How else could he stay with Sherlock?
"We don't need to discuss it now," Sherlock said, getting to his feet and helping John up too. "We need to get out."
"What about the others?"
"Mycroft's done it."
"Really? How do you know?"
Sherlock looked embarrassed. "Well, the two of us needed some temporary long-range communication… so we…"
John figured it out before Sherlock said it. "You shared blood with Mycroft?" He didn't voice the question about how blood sharing was sexual, but he didn't have to.
"It's not the same with family," said Sherlock. "That's why one time drinking it was enough in the first place, since usually it would take time. But I certainly never wanted to get so close to him, that's for sure."
"How long will it last?"
"After just one time? Probably not too long. Hopefully."
"You almost ruined my plan, Sherlock," John scolded. "You were supposed to stay far."
"I had to slow Moriarty down. Had I not, he would have had time to kill you."
John blinked for a moment. Wow. He'd really been that close to dying?
"But you could've died too."
"But I didn't."
"You just... scared me."
Sherlock took his hand. "No need to be frightened now."
"Yeah, I guess not, seeing as Moriarty's dead. And your dad. Who happen to be the same person."
"Today succeeded in not being boring," Sherlock said in reply.
"What, you don't care at all?"
John rolled his eyes. "I love you."
"I love you too."
The two began to walk.
"So are you excited to see Earth again?"
"Not particularly," said Sherlock. "That part doesn't matter."
John knew the answer, but he asked anyway. "What does?"
"I want to be somewhere where you don't have to be my slave for us to be together."
"You know, there was a time when I didn't think you were capable of love."
"There was a time where I thought just the same."
"Which means you were wrong."
"I was a bit… not completely correct, yes."
"Yeah, which is being wrong."
"I really didn't have the proper data in order to make any educated assumption—"
"Shut up," John said with a chuckle, and it didn't matter that John didn't know what was going to happen next, didn't know if they would make it to Earth, let alone what they would do when they got there. How he would explain to mum about his boyfriend that didn't age. Where they would live. What they would do. It didn't matter. He just needed Sherlock, always, and basically everything else could get thrown up in the air and land as it may. Whether John ended up a vampire, or a human dating a vampire, or they found a way to turn Sherlock human, or they had to go to back to the Dark Dimension to make it work… he would be just fine as long as Sherlock never left his side.
"You're disgustingly sentimental," Sherlock scoffed.
"Oh, you heard all that?"
"You know you agree."
Sherlock was silent for a moment. "Well… Yes, I suppose I do."
John smiled. That was all that mattered.
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