ihadabadday | In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed

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In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

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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Molly walked over to slapped Sherlock across the face. "You obviously do not know John or have cared to get to know him. He is a kind man and one I am pleased to call my friend. This is not some elaborate sick joke." She snapped.

She stepped back and held out a hand, an image appeared, of Sherlock just moments ago, half transformed into the God of the Underworld, Hades himself.

"You are Hades and Hades is you. You have a choice, to awaken and accept your duties or die. Because there are others out there that would sooner see you dead, the cycle broken and Hades become no more. And if you die permanently, it will be an eternal winter here on Earth, because John will have lost control."

"Hey!" Sherlock rubbed his cheek where she had slapped him, it stung. His eyes burned into hers.

"Don't you dare say that I don't care for John. You don't know the things he says to me, the way he holds me or kisses me or.." He stopped, his face immediately turning red. He had almost said way too much.

As soon as the image appeared, he took a step back. "No, That can't be me. You're making this up. My eyes aren't red, and I most certainly don't' have flames around me." He looked at his hands and arms, just to double check, but nope, no flames.

For a moment, he was quiet, contemplative. "If..." he started hesitantly. "If.. this was true.. and if.. IF... I .. if Hades were to awaken, how.. would it be done?"

He most certainly didn't want the earth to freeze over, or anything to happen to John, or himself obviously.

"Wait, wait.. you are saying.. there are people.. trying.. to kill me... right now?"

"Honestly... No one knows. Nothing like this has happened before. A god, a true god, has never been killed and reborn." She said truthfully, "There has to be a way to awaken it, but we don't know how. It seems Fates as settled that you must endure this alone."

"Yes. There is a man, named Moriarty, he killed Hades. Poisoned him. If word was to get to him that you were reawakening, he would try to kill you."

"Well what good are you as a babysitter then?" He thew up his hands in disgust and frustration.,

"You can't help me become a god, and it sounds like you cant stop this.. Moriarty person from killing me if he really wanted to." He started pacing around the room like a caged tiger.

No one can, or will help me, and I have no idea if this is even real, much less how to let this... god whatever he is awaken, so what am I supposed to do, sit here until I either magically wake up one day and decide that I am Hades, or sit around and wait for Moriarty to come and kill me? Neither of those sound very appealing right about now."

Molly snarled. A strange sound coming from her. She waved her hand and slammed Sherlock into a chair. She turned to pace over to him. "Do not doubt for an instant I cannot defend you against the likes of Moriarty. I am an Old God. The only one older than I am is Cronus!"

"Now you will figure out how to unlock the power inside you before I take you out and make you work the fields until the power breaks free!" She snapped at him. The anger backed by her power, her age.

For the first time since he had been there, Sherlock was, truly afraid. He was scared that he had overstepped his bound, and he lay back as far as he could in the chair, as far as he could from the woman in front of him that no longer seemed like the pretty and gentle Molly that he knew.

He was silent for a long time, he had no idea what to say. When he did finally speak, his voice was low and meek, almost a whisper.

"But.. if even the gods don't know how to unlock... whatever this is inside of me.. how am I supposed to do it?" His question wasn't defiant, like earlier, it was truly curious, and contrite, and unsure.

"It's inside you." She tapped his chest, where his heart was, "Unfortunately it is different for each one of us."

"For me... It's the smell of the earth after it's rained and the feeling of new life growing come spring."

Sherlock took a deep breath. I dream... "He paused for a moment, this was hard to talk about.. "Sometimes I dream about fire, and rock, and a three headed dog, as big as an elephant." He sighed.

"I don't think I'll find a dog like that around here, but.. what about fire and rock." Sherlock looked outside the window. "There are no volcanos near Oklahoma, sadly. So I guess that's out of the question as well." He got up from the chair and paced back and forth, tugging at his hair, frustrated.

"I don't know what to do!" He roared, not angry at her, just angry in general.

Molly sat down. "John told me he gave Hades a plant before he left the last time..."

She looked at Sherlock, watching him move back and forth.

Sherlock stopped pacing as soon as Molly said that.

"Yes, he showed me, he created a flower for me, out of his bare hands. I assume that it was like the one he gave... Hades." He couldn't say 'gave me', because he had no idea about anything that John and Hades had said or done together, other than the little parts John had told him.

"What about the flower?" he asked.

She shrugged a bit. "I thought it might be a trigger to wake up whatever was sleeping inside you. I promised John when he returned from Sydney, that you would have woken."

Molly yawned a bit, that burst of power had left her a little zapped. John's habit of resting after such an outburst was catching.

"I am going to lie down for a bit. Please don't bring the house down around us." She winked at Sherlock and then went back to her room.

Sherlock watched her go, then slumped into the chair that she had almost tossed him into.

He hadn't had the heart to tell her that him and John had had a huge fight, right before they left for the US. John had taken the flower and crushed it in his hands. Apparently, John had not told her about Sherlock's flower at all, only the one for Hades, however long ago that was.

He got up and went outside, walking through the dregs of the wheat fields. It was almost winter, and the wheat had been collected already, but he loved the way it smelt. He sat, cross legged i the field and closed his eyes letting his mind wander.

John was sitting in his own little flat, staring out the window at the sky. He touched the pendant he wore, eyes closed. "Sherlock... I love you." He whispered, "I... I would do anything for you. To make you remember and stop the pain that you're in."

He clutched the stone, feeling his power wrap around it. But it could not bring it to life like Hades once had.

While Sherlock sat there, he felt.. something.. someone reach out for him.. He couldn't feel or hear anything, it was something that was in his bones, in his very soul..

He closed his eyes tight, when they opened, they were blood red, and his skin glowed with a fiery aura. He felt.. heat all around him, flames, not the aura around his skin, but flames, licking up around him, he could feel the heat on his skin, even if he couldn't see anything.

"John..." He cried out, not sure if he was being attacked or is he was causing it. He could feel the fire but it didn't burn him, it danced and waved and followed the contour of his body, if he stuck his arm out, the fire moved around it.

"John.. what's happening to me?" He yelled up toward the heavens. His whole body felt like he was melting and reforming over and over and over again.

"Help me.. John... please.. I.. need you.. I.. i. love you!" Three little words, that he had never uttered before, now flew up from the field from his lips to someone so far away

John's eyes snapped open and he gasped. He could feel it. The thread between then was starting to come together. He reached along it with his power, calling to Hades. Calling to him. He wished, he wanted, he hoped...

"Sherlock I love you..." He whispered along the bond. John had a tiny bit of Hades' power in him. He whispered and then sent it back to the man. Maybe... Maybe that was what he needed.

Sherlock didn't even notice that the field had actually caught on fire now, not the magical flame around him, but a true fire, burning out from around him, sending large black plumes of smoke into the air.

His eyes were still closed, his mind on nothing but that tenuous link between himself and John.. No, he corrected himself in his mind, Hades and Persephone.

"John... my John.. My.. Persephone." He tried to hard to connect to the man so far away.. he could feel that he was gripping the talisman that Hades.. that HE had given him so long ago.. The memories were still not there, but the connection. it was.

He closed his eyes, screwed them tight, concentrating with all of his might.. the flames, both magical and real grew higher and hotter, whipping into little fire tornadoes around him.

And then he felt it.

The spark.

The stone that John held. With a thought, he set it alight.

John gasped when he felt the stone warm. He pulled the necklace off and stared at the stone. "Hades?" He asked, voice trembling. He clutched it tight in his fist for a moment before pressing his lips to it. Oh... Oh he wished Hades was here.

He wished his love was back to how he was, that they could be together again. That his heart would stop hurting.

"I love you." He whispered against the stone, "I love you so. Wake up, please..."

"Per....seph...one..." He whispered the word once, then he fell to the soft, cold, loamy ground. The stone no longer flamed, as Sherlock lost consciousness, once again blue eyed, and surrounded by a very real fire burning in the field around him.

The flames licked at his skin, but he lay still and quiet, breathing in the choking air through his shallow breaths. It had taken every bit of his energy to do what he had,. and now he was at the mercy of the fire around him.

"Hades..." He whispered as he lost consciousness. He dropped the talisman and it rolled away just a bit from him. It was cold once more, solid stone.

--

Molly came running out. She cursed and waved her hand, the wind blowing out the fire. Damn it. She ran over to Sherlock and knelt down. He was burned, not badly though, first to second degree burns. She hoisted him up and got him to her car.

Because she wasn't sure what the smoke had done to him, it was better to be than sorry. She got him to the hospital and the doctors and nurses took over.

It was late the next day before Sherlock came to. He had an oxygen mask to help with the smoke in his lungs, and bandages on his arms and legs. The burns would heal, he wouldn't need any skin grafts, but it would take some time, and he would be in some pain for a while, the doctors told him.

He lay back, closing his eyes one night, full of painkillers, but still that didn't staunch the pain. He tried to reach out to John.. but he couldn't feel him any more.. Panic set in his breast, he wished Molly was here.. she would know if John was OK, right?

John was passed out in his flat in Sydney. His power having drained itself to go to Sherlock. It was hard when they were close, but since they were so apart now... It was even harder.

He slept. He wasn't sure how long he slept. He slept and he dreamed of Hades.

It was weeks before he was finally out of the hospital. His lungs had sustained some damage, and his burns had not all fully healed, but he was good enough to do the rest at home, he had been told.

He waited in the front lobby for Molly to come get him. She hadn't heard from John since the day that Sherlock set the crops on fire. Of course he was worried. He wanted to fly to Sydney, but there was no way he could in his condition, not right now.

And so, he had to wait.. and hope.. and try to reach out to John again.

John gasped when he woke, taking deep breaths. Odd habit, his mind supplied. He didn't need to breathe anymore. But apparently he needed to sleep.

He forced himself up and rubbed his face. How long had he been out? He got up and stumbled over to find his phone. Dead. He swore and plugged it in. In a moment he was able to see the date...

Weeks?

He had been out for weeks? He swore and sat down, sending a message to Molly.

'Alive'

Sherlock had been quiet the entire ride home. As they got back to the farmhouse, Sherlock went on ahead back into the house while Molly locked up the car. He heard her phone go off, but thought nothing about it. He just wanted to go inside and go to bed and pretend that everything was OK, that John was back and he was just himself again, and all this complicated mess was just over with.

Molly smiled when she saw the message. "Sherlock. He's okay." She called to him.

She wasn't sure how much longer either of her boys would be able to take it. Sherlock needed to wake up.

In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

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