John Watson (
ihadabadday) wrote2019-01-07 09:25 pm
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A Righteous Return - AU - Locked to
seaweed_writes
Once Upon a Time in a kingdom far away and filled with magic and dragons, there was a King and his Wizard. Together they did great things, bringing peace to the world and to its people. They were the best of friends, as close as any two men could be. Until one day the King was gravely injured defending his Wizard...
He gasped as the arrow struck his shoulder. Just between the gap in his armor. Too low to be anything but fatal. He knew that. But he was the King of England. He wielded Excalibur. He would not go down with out a fight. Of course /he/ would call him foolish for this. For defending him in this way. He was a sorcerer, a wizard, after all.
His knees gave out as the blood loss started to affect him. He barely noticed as strong arms came around him.
"It's okay." He assured the man, "You'll be okay. If... I'll return." He coughed a bit, feeling the pain. But it was all okay. His friend. His Wizard was alive. He pressed Excalibur into the man's hands.
"Return this to the Lady of the Lake. Please. It needs to be safe." He knew what would happen if it was in the wrong hands.
He didn't have much time. He knew that. He reached up and touched his Wizard's face. "Find me again." He managed before he closed his eyes, arm falling limply to his side.
The King of the Brits, of England, was gone.
---
John shot up in bed, gasping for breath. He pressed a hand to his face and took a deep breath. Another nightmare. So many had piled up over the years. Loosing Arthur, the two Great Wars. Even recent events were enough to make him frightened. He got out of bed and walked over to the window. After opening the blinds, he stared out at the blinking lights. Albion had changed so much in recent time. Just the past hundred years alone. He let out a sigh.
There had been one time in all these years the had started to feel Arthur return. During the second Great War... The need for him was great then than it had been years earlier during the first. He pressed a fist to the window and sighed. "Arthur, we need you..." There was the unspoken, I need you. It was always unspoken. He had never dared tell the King. He couldn't, not when he had a Queen that adored him so and who he adored in return.
He let out a long held breath and looked back out to the night sky. He didn't need this flatshare, but it was convenient to be around people again.
---
He had been living with Sherlock Holmes for three months now. Just long enough to know he could stand the man, but not long enough to really know how he felt about the man. Other than... Okay.
John had left Sherlock lying on the couch when he went off to work. The A&E. He loved working in emergency medicine. He could help people and keep an eye out for Arthur and the Knights.
Of course, this was the day when a psych patient broke out and started to wave a scalpel at everyone. John stepped in front of a nurse only to get stabbed in the neck. He put his hand up to press against the wound, trembling. Oh, shock. He slowly sunk to the ground as he heard his coworkers starting to swarm.
And it was about fifteen minutes later that Sherlock's mobile started going off.
He gasped as the arrow struck his shoulder. Just between the gap in his armor. Too low to be anything but fatal. He knew that. But he was the King of England. He wielded Excalibur. He would not go down with out a fight. Of course /he/ would call him foolish for this. For defending him in this way. He was a sorcerer, a wizard, after all.
His knees gave out as the blood loss started to affect him. He barely noticed as strong arms came around him.
"It's okay." He assured the man, "You'll be okay. If... I'll return." He coughed a bit, feeling the pain. But it was all okay. His friend. His Wizard was alive. He pressed Excalibur into the man's hands.
"Return this to the Lady of the Lake. Please. It needs to be safe." He knew what would happen if it was in the wrong hands.
He didn't have much time. He knew that. He reached up and touched his Wizard's face. "Find me again." He managed before he closed his eyes, arm falling limply to his side.
The King of the Brits, of England, was gone.
---
John shot up in bed, gasping for breath. He pressed a hand to his face and took a deep breath. Another nightmare. So many had piled up over the years. Loosing Arthur, the two Great Wars. Even recent events were enough to make him frightened. He got out of bed and walked over to the window. After opening the blinds, he stared out at the blinking lights. Albion had changed so much in recent time. Just the past hundred years alone. He let out a sigh.
There had been one time in all these years the had started to feel Arthur return. During the second Great War... The need for him was great then than it had been years earlier during the first. He pressed a fist to the window and sighed. "Arthur, we need you..." There was the unspoken, I need you. It was always unspoken. He had never dared tell the King. He couldn't, not when he had a Queen that adored him so and who he adored in return.
He let out a long held breath and looked back out to the night sky. He didn't need this flatshare, but it was convenient to be around people again.
---
He had been living with Sherlock Holmes for three months now. Just long enough to know he could stand the man, but not long enough to really know how he felt about the man. Other than... Okay.
John had left Sherlock lying on the couch when he went off to work. The A&E. He loved working in emergency medicine. He could help people and keep an eye out for Arthur and the Knights.
Of course, this was the day when a psych patient broke out and started to wave a scalpel at everyone. John stepped in front of a nurse only to get stabbed in the neck. He put his hand up to press against the wound, trembling. Oh, shock. He slowly sunk to the ground as he heard his coworkers starting to swarm.
And it was about fifteen minutes later that Sherlock's mobile started going off.
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"For whatever reason, you think that I am a knight of the Round Table. And that means that I have to act brave, like a knight." Even if I am just a lowly pathologist, she thought to herself.
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"Why don't you call Greg and get some hand to hand lessons from him? At least start to build your defense."
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"I'll call him up later today. It sounds like whatever is going on, this needs to be done sooner rather than later. Maybe he can give me a little bit of gun training as well? Though I don't have a gun and don't think I can get one... so maybe not. What we're fighting... would a gun even help?"
It was at that time that Sherlock came back in, wordlessly handed her the water, gave a look over John's way, then sat back down.
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He settled back down and ran a hand through his hair. "It might be a good idea. I don't know what is coming or what form it will take."
He reached over and put a hand over Sherlock's. "We have more Knights to find, but please, be safe Molly."
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Molly stood up as well, blushing a bit more at the affection between the two. Both she and Sherlock knew that she had a crush on the detective but that it would never work. She knew she should feel jealous, and maybe a small deep part of her did a little, but honestly, she was happy for the two of them. Obviously there was something going on here, even if she wasn't sure what.
"Good luck, you guys." She gave them both a hug, then watched them leave. when they were gone, she slumped into her chair and tried to make sense of what had just happened, then she called Greg.
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Once out on the street, he pulled out the map. The light at Saint Bart's faded, leaving the other ten bright.
"Where shall we go next?" He asked Sherlock.
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He sighed when he saw the one in Belgravia. There was only one person that could be.
"Here." He said. "Though he will actually be here now." He pointed to the MI5 building by the Thames.
"I'll text ahead to get an audience with His Highness." he said the last two words with a sneer.
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He wanted to stop whatever was coming, love Sherlock and just live his life.
He hoped that after this was done, he would be able to age and die with the man he loved.
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By the time they got there, Sherlock was in a right mood. Anthea was at the door, greeting them and leading them through the security checks that would take them in The Dungeon, as Sherlock had always called it.
As they walked down the hallways, Sherlock looked at John. He looked a bit... off? But he wasn't sure why, and it bothered him.
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Honestly, he didn't know.
And he had met far more intimidating people in his life.
He rubbed his forehead when they stopped to wait for the elevator.
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"Come in." There was voice from the other side. She opened the door for them. "Go in, gentlemen."
Sherlock walked in first, wanting to at least partially shield John from the unending gaze of his brother.
"Ah. Sherlock. I see that you have found yourself.... a goldfish." He said, before they had even taken two steps inside the office. The door hadn't even closed behind them.
"Mycroft, we have more important things to do now than to bicker."
Mycroft leaned back, steepling his fingers under his chin in an almost praying gesture.
"Pray tell, brother mine, what is so important that you come to me in such dire straits?"
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John took the map from his pocket and with a flick of his wrist, it was floating in the air, the points on the map glowing brightly.
"You and Anthea are both knights of the Round Table of Camelot. You have been reborn, as you have been for numerous lives before this. Only now you both are waking, and there is something coming. And I suspect that you Mycroft, have an idea of what is coming."
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"Now see here, Doctor Watson.." He said, putting emphasis on the first word. But the rest of the words fell away from his mouth when he watched the map float into mid air and hang there, with 10 points glowing on it in places around London, including 2 where they were.
"Anthea, if you could please come here for a moment." He buzzed on the intercom, then he turned to John. "What do you mean that I am a Knight of the Round Table? Those are children's fairly tales- merely myths and legends.
Anthea heard the last of that as she came in the door, closing and locking the door behind her. Something was going on, and they needed privacy for whatever was to come.
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He then looked back to Mycroft. "My real name is Merlin Emrys."
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"Mycroft. I know this sounds crazy. But it is real. You just saw him do magic. I have seen him do magic as well. Something is coming. And we had started to Awaken the Knights. We have already spoken with Detective Inspector Lestrade, and the pathologist Molly Hooper. You are the third one."
He looked over to Anthea."And I assume that you may be the fourth."
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John smiled at Sherlock.
He then looked back at Mycroft. "Want to pull those memories out for you? Bring them to the surface?"
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"No, Doctor Watson. I do not want you to get anywhere close close to me. I want you to leave, right now, without Sherlock. We will get you help."
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He turned back to Mycroft and without a word turned his desk into a large bed of flowers, the chair becoming a grassy hill.
"Explain that." He challenged Mycroft.
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Instead of being amazed, he was actually angry. "Put my desk back." He said, in a no nonsense voice. He had a lot of classified information on that desk, and he couldn't have that information floating around in the ether.
"Sir..." Anthea started towards him, then was stopped by a gentle hand on her shoulder. Sherlock shook his head. "It's alright." He said, softly. "I promise."
"I don't care who you think you are or what you think you can do, but I demand that you put everything back to the way that it was, right now!
"
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"You need to sit down and be quiet! I am not in the mood for your inane bullshit today! There is a threat coming to all of England. Bad enough that the Knights of the Round Table and King Arthur are waking!"
He crossed his arms over his chest. "The last time that happened? World War II." John hissed, "You Lancelot died defending innocent people from German soldiers. And if you cannot live up to that or protect those you swore to protect... Whatever is coming will be the least of your worries."
John was done. He was tired. He wanted to live in peace, not deal with this insane bullshit.
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Anthea was actually the first to speak up. "Doctor Watson, you speak of knights.. 'waking up' and of war and death, but I know nothing of any of that. I was born well after the Second World War was over, much less the time of knights and dragons and such. How am I.." she looked over to a still glaring Mycroft. "Or are we supposed to remember something that you say happened to us an eon ago?" She wasn't cruel or defiant or angry, she was more curious, still not quite believing, but open minded to what the man had to say.
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He turned and looked at Anthea. "The memories are locked in your head. Some have started remembering on their own. Greg Lestrade for instance. Some need them drawn out. It merely depends on the person. My magic told us two knights reside here. And as the Knights have been associated of Sherlock's thus far..."
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"I hate to say it, Doctor Watson, but I don't remember anything about knights or dragons or kings, beyond what my mum used to tell me as bedtime stories." She looked nervous, but she didn't back down, even taking a step closer to John.
"How.. does one go about unlocking those memories, having them.. drawn out, as you said?"
Mycroft groaned. "Please, Anthea. You can't seriously be thinking about letting Doctor Watson put you under whatever spell this is as well. I will not hear of it."
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This was insane. He knew what it sounded like. But... Arthur needed his Knights. All of them.
Especially Lancelot.
He put his hands on her face and whispered the name of the knight, letting the memories unlock.
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Anthea winced slightly at the touch to her face, but she didn't pull away.
Everyone else in the room watched her eyes go wide, she was stiff and still for a few moments.
Finally, she blinked a couple of times, looked to John, and said "Lamorak." It was almost a whisper. "I... remember now. I remember it all."
She looked to her boss. "Sir, John is right. I understand now. I saw.. who I used to be, a long time ago."
Mycroft shook his head, his finger moving towards the emergency button, He hovered right over it but didn't press it, not quite yet.
"Doctor, I don't know what you are doing to everyone in the room, but you will not be using this... sorcery on me. Leave. Now."
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