A to Z of Sherlock Songfics

Bleeding Out

 Author's Note

This one turned out kinda weird, but hey... xD Basically some things are vaguely based of the Blood Destiny series by Connie Suttle. The term M'Fiyah means mate recognition and compulsion is a form of psychic stuff where the person with it orders someone to do something and they have to. Hard to explain xD On with the second songfic!

Bleeding Out

Two days after turning twenty two William Scott died. Ten days later he returned adopting a new name, Sherlock, and the surname of his sire, Holmes. Before his untimely demise he had worked for the police on a freelance basis, solving what he had named cases when they took his fancy. He had been a genius and incredibly ahead of his age when it came to solving crimes. Indeed, he still was a genius. But he was no longer the top of his game. No, now he was viewed as young, immature and rather stupid. By vampire standards.

It was safe to say Sherlock's years of training did not go as smoothly as they could have. Mycroft Holmes was a brilliant teacher, which was to be expected having turned three people before Sherlock and lived for thousands of years. Not to mention being the head of the vampire council. Sherlock was just... rebellious. He disliked authority, being told what to do. He regretted asking to be turned upon his death. He did not get on with his sire. He did not get on with anyone, really. He was peculiar even by vampire standards.

Sherlock was delighted when he got his freedom, no longer in training under Mycroft but seen as a fully mature vampire. It had only taken one hundred years. Sherlock resettled in London, finding a flat where he would not be bothered during the day (for he would be asleep) and once again returning to help the police. It was then that he came up with the term 'consulting detective.' The world may have changed in one hundred years but Sherlock kept up. And he was still a genius.

It was in the summer of 2010 that Sherlock's new life, his life as a vampire, took a turn. Exactly one hundred and three years after being turned Sherlock met John. He noticed the man the instant he entered the room. His smell; he smelt like sun, sand, war and tea. It was a wonderful smell. Sherlock felt some kind of connection. So of course he took the man as his roommate. He was the most tolerable human he had found on the planet.

John himself seemed to accept Sherlock's ways easily. He did not question how he slept at day and was awake at night; it was one among a myriad of peculiarities. He did not question the bags of blood kept in the fridge; they were nothing compared to the body parts Sherlock also kept. No, John did not question anything. That was what Sherlock liked about him. Loved about him.

It was a year after their meeting, the anniversary in fact, when this love came to light. They had been on a case, a particular hard one. All had not ended well and Sherlock had been shot. Of course, it was a minor wound. Nothing that could harm him. He would heal. However, John did not know this. It had been there in a dark street John had kissed Sherlock for the first time, holding him and thinking he was going to die. Of course, Sherlock did not. That was the first time he had to place compulsion on John. To make him forget certain events. This kiss, however, stayed.

From there their relationship blossomed. Sherlock knew he should resist it. John was a human, with a finite lifespan. Sherlock was a vampire destined to live forever. Something he could not bring himself to tell his beloved. His sire had warned him many times over the course of Sherlock's relationship that it could only end badly. Sherlock had not listened. He had a M'Fiyah with John and he wasn't going ignore it.

Only now did he realise that his sire had been right. Caring was not an advantage. Falling in love was never a good idea.

"It's okay, Sher, it's okay," John croaked out, beautiful blue eyes half shut and face pale. "I'm going to be okay."