Crimson (Vamplock Fanfic)

Chapter 3

"John, please! I need to visit the morgue, it's important!" The detective was practically down on his knees as his hands were clasped together in a prayer of letting him go.

"Sherlock, you can't go to the morgue! You need to finish this case for Lestrade!" I shouted back. He ruffled his curls in frustration then slammed his fist on the coffee table.

"It wasn't the actual sister, she was already dead before the crime was committed. Her mother remarried and the step-sister did it! There, case closed. Now can you please let me get to the morgue, it is a matter of life and death!" Sherlock's stern look frightened me as his eyes glowed crimson red with flecks of gold but quickly disappearing as soon as they appeared.

I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hand before looking back to Sherlock and seeing a glint of hope and worry but most of all; loss and hopelessness. He never has looked at me like this before, much like a puppy would look to its master for something that it wants. Though, then again, he always looks like that.

Heaving a sigh, I rubbed my forehead and looked back to the begging detective. "If it's a matter of life and death, then so be it. You can go to the morgue, but I have to come with you, I have to check into the office for any missing paperwork I've missed." I got up and grabbed my jacket as Sherlock sat back in his usual chair and heavily sighed, twiddling his fingers along the arms of the chair.

"Nothing can be said about what I'm going to bring home. Do you understand John?" Sherlock rose from his seat then proceeded to grab his coat, standing impeccably close to me as I could feel his warm breath trickle against my cheek. Standing close enough for me to also study his eyes. The way their color danced in the dim light of the flat mixed with the fire colors that emanated from the window due to the sun. I was instantly lost in the millions of galaxies that lit up in his eyes when he talked of things that he finds in the morgue.

"When do I say anything about what you bring home?" I asked, making it sound more flirtatious than I should have as I almost regretted it coming out of my mouth. With a strange look from the detective, we headed downstairs and out the front door.

With his thin, slender, yet tall figure stretched out for a cab, we were immediately granted one as we climbed in and headed for St. Bart's.

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"Hello Sherlock! Come in for another couple of units?" Molly Hooper cheerfully asked as she noticed us walk in and held a tighter grip on her clipboard.

"Hello Molly, actually I'm in here for-" Sherlock began looking to me as if it was my cue to leave as usual. But I had somewhere to be anyways as I needed to get to the clinic for my paperwork.

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Sherlock

My thirst was becoming almost unbearable. My hidden fangs stung with thirst and my throat ran dry from the extreme need for blood. It was a thirst that was only temporarily fixed with old and bagged blood, I could only get my hands on the deceased and never fresh, but the chemical aftertaste only made the thirst worse every time I drank it. My need was like the drugs I used to do, it was a constant itch that could never be relieved or scratched with the prick of a needle or a bag of delicious blood that I needed to survive.

I drew a shaky breath and gently placed my fist on the table as I rocked myself on the sides of my feet, something I've only done when I'm about to admit defeat. Molly noticed me and rubbed my arm, getting close to my lowered face. She knew of me being a vampire and keeps it a secret for my sake and my brother's sake, both being extremely worried that it might not be the right time just yet for me to tell John.

"Do you have any that are fresh? Ones that haven't been chemically treated yet?" I gasped, my thirst becoming more prominent the more I talked or even thought about it.

"I've had one just brought in last night, nobody has touched the blood yet. That's as fresh as you're going to get it but it's the only thing I can get my hands on right now. I'm sorry." Molly explained, moving her hand from my arm to my back and rubbing it soothingly.

"No, that'll do just fine. I just need this thirst quenched, anything you have will be fine for now." She gave a pursed lip smile before leaving for a moment and coming back with a cup of the red liquid. I took the cup with my shaky hand and downed it all in two swigs.

The taste was better than the ones that have been chemically treated as it went down smoother and slower for the taste to linger. I closed my eyes and opened them with the satisfaction of the quality like a taste test of fine wine.

"There was only a limited amount I could get my hands on before they took the others for testing." She handed me the rest of the bags, no more than five or six at the most as I humphed in displeasure.

"Is it not enough?" She asked, wringing her hands in nervousness. I waved my hand in dismissal. "No, no, it's fine. This'll be good for now. Thank you Molly, this really does help." I grinned. She gave a shy smile in reply as I left with the bags in my hand and in the pockets of my coat and went in search of John at the clinic.