John Watson (
ihadabadday) wrote2019-01-07 09:25 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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.
no subject
He focused back on Sherlock and touched his hand. His feelings for Sherlock weren't a hinderance, no. They were power. He felt powerful knowing he had admitted his feelings for the man. He could feel his magic coursing through him, bubbling and just under the skin. A sensation he had not felt since the first Arthur was alive.
John opened the door to the morgue and stepped inside. Molly...
no subject
"And Sherlock, always nice to see you. It's been a while. I knew John would make a good flatmate when I introduced you two!" He said in his thick accent. Of course him introducing the two had been no accident at all, the Old Ones had allowed him to make this one move to help them come together. Everything else, the relationship that came of it, had been of its own accord.
"I'll let you three chat." He turned to Molly. "I'll talk to ya later." He smiled again, mostly at John, and then was gone.
Molly smiled her mousey little smile at them. She was already taking off her rubber gloves. "Sherlock. John. Nice to see you again. What can I help you with? I don't have any spleens for you yet, Sherlock. I'm still waiting for a good one to come in."
no subject
"Molly, we're not here about a spleen." John said as he stepped over to her. His fingers itched with magic, he knew... This was... This was...
Kay...
Arthur's foster brother.
He let out a breath. "Molly... I..." He didn't want to wake her, break the veil of innocence over her.
no subject
"John.. are you two.. alright? Has something happened?" She could feel something.. strange. in the air, but she couldn't place what it was. It was warm and tingly and inviting, but she was stiff and on her guard.
"Do you need a seat? Just take a deep breath, and explain. I will try to help however I can."
no subject
John let out a breath and thought one word. Wake...
He wanted to wake the memories of Kay inside Molly, bring them to the surface, bring the faithful knight to the front,
no subject
She saw a time long, long ago, knights and kings and armour and war. And she was there. She was..
A guy.
And beside her... him.. was another man in armour even more brilliant than his.. Armour fit for. a king.
For his brother.
"Arthur." The word was whispered, and she had no idea if she had said it or thought of it.
She saw war and battle, blood and death, and the last thing she saw was a sword being run through the cracks in the armor, and everything faded back into reality.
She was panting and sweating, and she realized that she had been screaming just a moment before. Molly blinked, then looked to John, her eyes wide, her chest heaving, still unable to speak.
no subject
"It's alright Molly. It's alright." He kissed her head and then pulled back a bit. She was so pale. He stroked her cheek gently and smiled at her.
"It's alright. I'm here. We're both here." John assured her.
no subject
"A-a-arthur?" She looked at Sherlock. "M-m-erlin?" She asked when she looked at John. "Wh-what's going on?" She lowered herself into a chair, as she was obviously not strong enough to support herself right now.
"Why did I see knights? And why did I just call you Arthur and Merlin?"
no subject
"Because you are a reborn Knight of the Round Table. And Sherlock is the reborn King Arthur and I am Merlin." He told her.
John swallowed and stroked her hair. He looked to Sherlock, a worried look on his face. Why did they have to do this.
no subject
That actually made Molly smile, and chuckle very lightly.
"And it gets a bit crazier. We are gathering all of the Knights of the Round Table. Something is coming and we need to join forces. We aren't sure of the threat yet, but it's like a gathering storm." He said.
"You are the second of my Knights. You won't believe it, but Graham is the first. "
"Graham?"
"You know, Gavin Lestrade?"
"Greg, Sherlock." Molly gently chided. Sherlock just waved his hands in a vague shooing gesture.
"Well, anyways, he is Galahad, interestingly enough. I guess I can start calling him Gallahad Lestrade."
no subject
Gallahad and Kay down...
Ten more to find.
Not counting Mordred.
An angry look crossed his face at the thought of that traitor.
no subject
She turned back to John. "Are.. you okay, John? You look upset... I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to get all weak at the knees." She said, feeling guilty about being chosen. "I'm not a fighter, John." She misunderstood his anger.
"I'm afraid that I am going to hole you all back."
no subject
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I didn't want this for any of you."
no subject
"Do.. you know who the other knights are yet? Is it anyone else we know?" He eyes went wide. "Oh no! " She put her hands to her cheeks in surprise. "Poor Mike. Sherlock knows him too. Is he a knight?"
no subject
"I have a map of the knights, and you were our first stop. No, Mike is not a knight." John told her.
no subject
"So... if.. Arthur came back, then.. you think that this.. Mordred person has come back as well, to try to kill Sherlock.. er.. Arthur again?" She asked. "And where if you next stop? Am I supposed to go with you? I'm supposed to be working for a while, but I could ask Mike I guess..."
no subject
He rose and smiled at her. "Just relax."
no subject
"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.
no subject
"Why don't you call Greg and get some hand to hand lessons from him? At least start to build your defense."
no subject
"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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)