Mycroft smirked down at John. "You should thank my brother." He said to John.
:
"I had every intention of striking you down where you stand. You may look unimpressed, but I can assure you that it would be nothing for me to kill you. But, because of Hades' mistake, you have been spared."

He looked over to Sherlock. "He is your problem now, brother mine. Do with him as you will." He shooed them away like a horse would swat at a fly with its tail.

"I came up here for this?" Sherlock asked, the flames on his head rising. "You could have scryed me to tell me."

"Well, things changed, rather recently, didn't they? You fed him. And how he is your Persephone, like Moriarty before you. He may spend the winter months, from the night of the winter solstice to the night of the spring solstice on his precious Earth. If he doesn't return, he will die. There is nothing either you or I can do about that. It is Fate. The rest of the time, he will be in Hell, with you."

Sherlock crossed his arms. He was stuck with this... whatever he was.. not a mortal, not a god. He sighed.