Dangerous Company - final chapter!
A huge thank you to @helloliriels for the stunning cover art created for #FTH2026
Thank you to all my lovely supporters and to everyone who has been reading along!
When I awoke, I was in my bed in Baker Street and Holmes was seated by my bed in a chair, watching me sleep.
“You’re here. You’re always here.” I smiled gently.
“I needed to make sure you were alright.” He looked extremely relieved to see me waking up.
“When I was shot… I thought I saw you on the battlefield,” I mumbled to him.
“You did see me on the battlefield,” Holmes said with a cheeky grin. He stroked my face gently. "I was the soldier that brought you to the hospital."
I gasped in shock. "You were a soldier too?"
"Well no. But I had to dress like one, to be allowed on the field... and so I..." He lowered his eyes, suddenly shy.
“I thought I was going mad… And at the pub before I left for battle? And following me in the streets when I came home?”
“How can you be in so many places?”Â
“Because… I am a vampire, Watson. I think you know that now. I can travel long distances at fast speeds. And I needed to know you were safe.”
"Why me?" I looked at him, confused by all of it. I understood that he had drawn me in. How could he not? He was magnificent. And mysterious. And captivating. And now he had enticed me into a world of adventure I wanted to be a part of. But what was I to him? What could I possibly be to someone like him?
"You're captivating too, you know?" he said, with a little smile, as if he had heard my thoughts and I felt my face flush, knowing he had understood. "You caught my eye in that tavern and I could hear all of your thoughts. The rhythm of your heartbeat was... just the right one... I... it won't make sense to you." He shook his head, frowning into his lap.Â
The realisation hit that he had come to rescue me, when he had been in bed unconscious not that long ago. How had he managed to be out on the street saving me? When he had been so unwell when I last saw him? “Your fever…” I tried to sit up, more urgently now to check on him.Â
“I take on disease. When you saw me, I had... I must have fed from someone who was unwell and I can get sick from bad blood." Again he had read my thoughts. "I'm not proud of what I am, Watson. I don't want you to be what I am. We can't… Why would you want this?”Â
“I can't live without you,” I rushed to say. “And if you won't do it, I will find someone who will. I won't live without you, Sherlock Holmes. And it seems you can't live without me, if you're mad enough to follow me through a war zone and…”Â
“To protect you. To save you, not to... drag you to hell.” He blushed.
I distinctly saw a blush cross his pale cheeks and it was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. I reached a hand out tentatively to touch his as it rested on the edge of the bed beside me, unable to look at him at first, as I spoke.
“This is no hell. Not when we're together. You can't call this hell. Please. Please. Put your hands on me again. Please, lay your eyes on me again. And don't take them off me. For I can't... bear another day without them. Holmes... Sherlock, my life is… insanity without you in it. I don’t care what it is that I must go through to be with you, so long as we're together. Just be with me. That's all I ask. I refuse to die alone if I can be with you and make that choice. That's what I choose. Whatever that looks like. Whatever horrors you think it is to be with you. I choose those... forever.” When I finally looked up at him, his eyes were filled with tears from my words.
“I cannot do it, John.”Â
I smiled. He finally said my name. “Of course you can. Of course you can. I'm asking. I'm begging you to do it.”Â
I struggled up slowly onto my knees in the bed, surprising Holmes out of his chair. He stood, unsure what I was doing and I reached out, lifting his hands, forcing them up to hold my head. Then I tilted my own neck, allowing my pale skin into the candlelight. “Please.”Â
“John, I cannot do it,” his voice choked out again. “Not to you. Please don't ask me.”Â
“Of course you can.” I held his hands in place for a moment longer until I knew he wouldn’t let go.
“John,” he whispered in warning.Â
“Listen to the sound of my blood pumping through my veins. I know you can hear it.”Â
“Stop it. What are you doing?” He asked, quietly panicking, his eyes wide.
“It's warm. Inviting. It's calling to you. It's been waiting. It's been... It's been cooking in my body, thinking of you… burning for you. Waiting... for your lips, Sherlock.”Â
Holmes let out a choked sound and then a whimper. “Please stop. Please. John, you don't know what you're doing,” he gasped desperately.Â
“Oh, I think I do. I'm fairly certain I do.” I wrapped my arm around his waist to pull him close against me. “Can you hear it?”Â
“Yes,” he whispered.Â
“Then take it. Take it. Take what you need. Take what you want. It's all yours. I'm all yours. I've always been yours. You own me. From that first moment you looked at me across the room in that tavern, I was yours. You knew it. I knew it. I've always known it. Every moment you have waited. You've been toying with me, Sherlock Holmes. Playing with your food. Just take me.”Â
Deep, from within his chest I heard a growl. For the briefest of moments, I felt fear. But I knew. I knew he would never hurt me. The slightest smile passed over my lips as I knew I’d won. And I felt elated.Â
He finally bent down and his lips kissed the delicate skin on my throat. Just like they had in my dream.
I let out a sigh. And a satisfied groan.Â
For the briefest of moments it felt lovely and goosebumps ran down my spine as everything in me tingled with pleasure from the feeling of his lips on my throat.
“Thank you,” I whispered.Â
Then I felt them. The sharpest pin pricks.Â
As I sank against Sherlock Holmes and finally let it happen.
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