John kept his wings tight around Sherlock. He just wanted to hold the man close. Remain in this flat forever.

"Will you feed from me? Please?" He asked.

He wanted to be... Loved. He wanted to know it, hear it. He ran a hand through those mussed curls. He pressed his face into Sherlock's neck, trying to stave off tears.

He wanted to keep them safe. And right now, safe was bending to the will of those who made them.