The Wolf, the Bat and the puppy.

The ride home

~sherlocks pov~

John and I have know eachother for atleast a year now and we've grown a custom to one another in this time. John leaves me be when I'm thinking and cleans after me when I mess up the kitchen and I don't question when he walk into the flat with a different girlfriend every week. But this week pushed our bond to it's very limits.

The hound of Baskerville, as John insists he calls it, unnerved me a little. I knew it wasn't real obviously but it could have been plausable. Werewolves don't stalk england much as theres a hunting law saying its legal to kill them when in their inhuman state but it could be possible that one ignored that fact and contiued reguardless. Besides, once I "saw" it i knew it couldn't be a werewolf. Werewolves stand upright and still loosely resemble the body of a human. This looked like a giant dog.
Though, there is still something bothering me.

"John," I start, turning my head away from the taxi window to look at my flatmate.

He made a small sound of acknowledgement but didn't turn his head from his phone.

"What colour was the hound you saw in the gas?"

John looked up at me in shock. I seem to be better at reading social queues now and reccognise that this was definately too soon to ask. I mutter a small apology and turn my head to the window again.

~John's pov~

Shit.

Sherlock definately saw me on the hill, I'm sure of it now. I knew looking for the hound in wolf form was a bad idea, now sherlock definately knows what I am. Shitshitshit! What am I gonna do? Lie? And risk being exposed? Or come clean and have him kick me out for being a monster?

Quick! Choose! I'm taking too long, he'll get suspicious. Shit shit shit!

Wait, sherlocks turning away. He's staring out the window. Do you think he didn't notice? Or maybe he thought it was a bad time to bring it up? Or....

Is that a howl?

I looked out the window on my side to see a full moon greet my eyes as I stared out across the busy streets of london. I had definately heared a howl but I couldn't understand it. It must have been a werewolf - my kind cant understand them as there not wolves just a wolf like creature. I clance at sherlock as he stares out his window. I can't let him anywhere neer the werewolf or he might get hurt.

The howl sounded again and I grabed my flatmates hand. This earned a concerned look from the detective but despite this I didnt let go until we reached baker street. Even then, I only removed his hand from mine for a moment to hand the cabnie the fair for our trip. (He didnt throw the money at the poor fellow this time lol)

I dragged the tall man inside and slammed the door behind me, locking it quickly, before throwing his hand bat to him and running upstairs to my room. I couldn't risk sherlock discovering my concern at the sound and putting two and two together. Sherlock is my best friend; I can't jeopardise my relationship with him. If he wasn't by my side I don't know what I'd do. I can't risk sherlock finding out that I'm a monster. If he does he'd hate me for sure.

I slam my back against my door and cry.

~Sherlock's pov~

John held my hand the whole way back. At first it caught me off guard but after my beet face calmed to a warm blush, I started to relax at my doctors hand in mine. He pulled me eagerly through the flat and I could feel his heart race. This was not due to seratonin or dopamine but sheer adrenalin and rising feer. I could see the worried and determined expression on his face as he thrust my hand into my chest and released. I opened my mouth to express my rising concern when he had fled upstairs, small flecks of tears rooling into his eyes. Did that howl realy traumatise him that much?

Prior to the Baskerville case I had my suspicions that John wasnt human. He always seemed a little possesive of me when we were working on cases during the time of the full moon. Around that time he usualy seemed moody aswell. I had originally predicted that he was a werewolf but my experiment in the taxi had proven my theory wrong. When I had noticed he faced the other way, I texted my brother to play a werewolf howl atop of a neer by roof and watched John's reflection in the window to see his response. A werewolf would ordinarily howl back, its in there instincts and they cannot resist it. John however sat paralysed and simply gripped my hand in terror. I guess I hurt him.

I should go up and apologise.

I silently make my way up the stairs, one perk of being an unded creature of the night is lurking comes naturally to you, and stand outside his door holding a tray of tea and biscuits for John. I hear a muffled sob then a bang as the door moved viciously in its frame, followed by a soft cry on the other side. My heart sank to hear John in so much pain over my silly experiment. Pacing the tray to one hand, I knock on the door and ask to come in (usualy I would just walk in but John seems to think it's rude and he's behind the door so I would hit him).