In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

[ihadabadday]

No one knew how long Gods had walked among the mortals. They just knew they had. Some remained in their country of origin, some branched out and traveled. Others started business or charities. Some just went through existence simply being. Belief didn't have much to do with how the Gods chose to lead their lives.

This tale though, it focuses on the Greek Gods of old and Mount Olympus (which is a real place and traditionally is where Zeus is said to live with Hera).

John Watson didn't care for the politics of the Gods that surrounded them every day. He had other things to focus on, to pay attention to. Like medical school, and then the military. It wasn't until he was shot and laying in the desert, bleeding, did he whisper things to the God of Death, to Hades. To a god he didn't believe in. Blood whispers they were often called. And gods hardly paid attention to them, most believed they were the whispers of dying men.

But John Watson survived when others with the same injury had died. What was different about him?

He returned to London on an army pension and a cane. He shuffled through his life, a constant ache in his chest, like there was something missing. Though he had little to no idea of what was missing. He helped others where he could, donating his time and what little money. A homeless veteran (it boiled him so to see those who helped their country be left behind) once called him a beacon of light.

A beacon of light huh?

Most days he didn't feel like one. Most days his mood was dark and everything was shit.

One night when he was limping slowly back to his dismal bedsit, something caught his attention. He glanced down an alley and saw a tall man dressed in black, being mugged by some ratty youth. The man was far too posh for this neighborhood. So why was he here? But that didn't matter. John, on two strong legs, charged into the alley and used his cane to knock the criminal away. He didn't notice, but there seemed to be a light around him, an otherworldy aura to him.

He held the cane like a sword and pointed it at the would be thief. "You need to leave here." John commanded. It had been easy for some to forget that he had been Captain John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers in Her Majesty's Army.

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[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock was walking away, he was about to send himself back to hell when he heard the yelling.

"John!" He ran back, thankfully he hadn't locked the door (not that that would have actually stopped a god, but he wasn't about to rip John's door unless he had no other choice."

The man was on the floor, curled up. He looked like he was in immense pain.

"John!" He took the couple of steps into the tiny loo and kneeled next to John, He already had his mobile phone out. "I'm calling 999. I'll get the paramedics here for you." He didn't have any healing powers himself, and he had no friends among the gods to call, so he was going to have to trust the man to mortal medicine.

If they failed to help him, Hell would come for all of them.

Literally.

[ihadabadday]

John looked up, trembling, his eyes gold. "Hades..." His eyes closed and then he slumped, unconscious.

Was the locked part of John starting to come through? They had only met a few hours before. Was their connection strong enough to warrant an awakening this early?

[seaweed_writes]

By the gods, John had called him by his title.

He knew.

Or, he was starting to remember.

"Yes. I am Hades." He said, his voice almost a whisper after the man slumped in his lap.

Sherlock took him to his bed and laid him down. He had no idea what to do. He still had his mobile phone in his hand, he could call the paramedics.

But he was fairly certain that this wasn't something that mortal medicine could fix.

He wished that he could call his brother, but he didn't have his scrying crystal, and Zeus wasn't in the Overworld, where Sherlock could call him.

He was on his own.

[ihadabadday]

"You just have the damndest luck don't you Sherlock?" The Fates appeared in a swirl of lights. He stepped over to the bed and looked at the mortal laying prone.

"He should not be awakening this year not until you've told him how you feel. But it seems the part of him that merged with you, it's stronger than anyone suspected."

[seaweed_writes]

"Fates." Sherlock growled. "What are you talking about?" He stepped closer to the other god in the room.

"Tell me what is going on. What do you mean he shouldn't have been awakening this year? What happened to him? He.. said my title. He remembers... something. But I don't know what yet. He was in pain, then he said my title before he collapsed."

Sherlock stood close enough that their noses brushed against each other. "What happened to John?" He said his eyeys burning hellfire.

[ihadabadday]

"When the first John severed his connection to you to become mortal again... He took a piece of Hades into himself. Into the part of him that was Ares and Persephone. Your memories are inside him, threatening to come out.

[seaweed_writes]

"He took a part of me with him?" He asked incredulously. It wasn't like he had a soul to break apart or any sort of nonsense like that.

"If I want those memories to surface, then how do I do it?" He asked Fates, backing away a bit to give the man a bit of space.

[ihadabadday]

Greg nodded and looked at the sleeping John. "He did. And I'm not sure how." he admitted, "It's almost entirely unheard of. Somehow the two of you are connected, over the ages and eons. Always circling around one another. Through ages forever."

He looked at Sherlock. "You need John Watson and John Watson needs you."

[seaweed_writes]

"I thought the Fates saw all." He deadpanned, never failing to give Greg a bit of a hard time when he could, which was a sadly rare opportunity.

"Are we destined to always be circling, or is there a way for our fates to be intertwined?" He asked, becoming more intrigued, and frankly a bit more frustrated, by the moment.

"If he needs me, then how do I help him?"

[ihadabadday]

"We see most." He answered with a slow shrug.

"Tell him how you feel. About your John, this John. Be human." He then vanished.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock scoffed. How was he supposed to 'be human'? He never had been human, and he never will be human. He had no idea why mortals thought or felt or act like they do.

That was about the worst advice that Fates could have given him. The man was worthless, and he wondered sometimes why he even counted Greg among his very few friends. He was a lot more tolerable than most, and that was no small feat, but when it came to advice or help, he was pretty much pants at alt.

He sighed and settled into a chair that he pulled next to the bed. There was nothing to do but wait until John came to now. No telling how long that might take.

[ihadabadday]

John woke around midnight. He blinked and started to sit up. What had happened? He groaned and moved to get off the bed.

The last thing he remembered.... He had called Sherlock by the name Hades.

Why had he called him that?

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock hadn't moved from the seat the entire time. He had managed to entertain himself some on his mobile phone, and spent some time thinking about HIS John, the two times that they had only ever been together. Which of course led to John leaving and Sherlock being alone again. It was a spiral of shame, disappointment, and frustration that left him in a right foul mood.

That was, until John woke up

"John." He leaned over the bed, looking into the man's dark blue eyes. He put his hand gently on John's chest. "Stay in bed. You.. were feeling ill earlier, Perhaps you should rest a bit more before you try to get up." He wasn't really sure what in the Nine Realms that John should be doing, but since he was still technically human, resting sounded like a good idea.

[ihadabadday]

He let himself be pushed down again before reaching out and taking Sherlock's hand. He squeezed the man's hand, unable to stop the rush of feelings. It was a strange sensation. He didn't quite understand them.

"I'm confused. I don't understand. What's going on?"

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock squeezed his hand back, sitting on the edge of the bed, his leg pressed close to Johns.

"John." He asked calmly. "What do you remember... about me?" Sherlock;s heart would have been in his throat, if he had a heart.

This was it, he was going to reveal everything to the man and hope that it pulled him closer, and didn't tear him apart or scare him away.

[ihadabadday]

"There was a lot of arguing. A lot of anger and fear. But below that... love." John Watson had fallen in love, somehow, with Sherlock. With the god of Death. A feat no on thought possible.

He gave a shaky breath. "What's happening? Am I dying? Is the gold killing me?" He had never told many about the "gold", his power. In the past five years it had only gotten stronger.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock had to chuckle. "Yeah, we did argue a bit." Mostly it was him, but he wouldn't admit that to John.

"You.... cared for me a lot." He did admit. "And I ... I didn't reciprocate. I didn't know how." He paused for a moment. "But I think I know how to now."

"No. You are not dying. You will never really die. You... are not fully human. That is why you see your eyes change color. Even I don't understand it fully."

[ihadabadday]

John looked at him, a pleading expression on his face. He wanted to know. He wanted to know how the man felt. He wanted to hear him say it.

"What happens when this fully wakes up?" He asked in reference to his sleeping power.

[seaweed_writes]

"I.. am not sure." He said. "When I knew you before, the previous incarnation of you, it never had time to totally awaken. I got to see some of your powers, but I don't think it was your full potential.

"You chose to be mortal and life out a normal mortal life. But.. you don't have to this time. You will be a demigod, not a god like me, but not a mortal like the people here in the Overworld. You will have your feet in both worlds."

[ihadabadday]

John shifted onto his knees. He touched Sherlock's face. He ran his fingers down the cool skin. He let out a breath and kissed him.

Sometimes he didn't know what he was doing. But this was right, content.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. He deepened the kiss, breaking away reluctantly after a few moments.

"I can take you back to Hell with me. We can talk to the Fates and Zeus, my brother. One of them might be able to tell us more."

It sounded like he remembered some of it, but not all of it yet. Maybe it would come back in little groups? There were still many more questions than answers.

[ihadabadday]

"You didn't like kissing." He whispered when Sherlock pulled away. John swallowed and let out a breath.

"I... I'm not ready to go." He admitted, "I want to know more before I agree to anything."

[seaweed_writes]

"I... didn't understand the meaning and reason behind a kiss." He didn't say that he had never kissed anyone before John. That was almost a given, anyways.

Sherlock's shoulders slumped a little when John said that he didn't want to go back to Hell. Wasn't that supposed to be their 'Happily ever after' or whatever that mortal saying was?

He could, of course, make John go back to Hell, but if he wanted to care for John, he was pretty sure it was best not to do things against his will.

"If you want to know more, we should talk with the Fates. He might be able to give us more information." He had no way to call Greg, which mean either going to Hell, or going to his business, Fates would most likely be in one of those places.

[ihadabadday]

John pulled away from Sherlock and swallowed. He rubbed his face. This was all so much. All the information, the realizations... But did Sherlock realize?

He pulled his blankets close to himself. He felt cold, so... So...

His eyes closed as he slumped.

[seaweed_writes]

"John!" Sherlock was inhumanly fast, and he caught the man before he slumped down off the bed. He laid him back down very gently. The man was shivering, so he pulled the covers and a comforter over John.

Had he fainted? Or was something else wrong?

Was he not living up to his side?

He was trying to show John that he cared. He had kissed the man, even.

But he had no idea if it was enough.

Damn it all, he needed to talk to the Fates. Mycroft was a very last resort.