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.

Comments

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock's comfortable sleep didn't last long. Soon, he was tossing and turning, making grunting noises and saying one name over and over again under his breath.

"Persephone.... Persephone.."

His dreams rushed past him like he was sprinting through the dream world. He saw Hell, the River Styx, Cerberus, the Pool of Souls, the throne room, the small room off to the side with a bed and a shower. It was all there, like a map inside of his head, not pieces any more, but coming together into one cohesive thought, a memory.

One of many.

They came flashing past him, most of them too fast for him to even consciously see or understand. His head thrashed about, his body sweaty and pale, his breathing short and quick.

[ihadabadday]

John sat on the couch and sighed. His shoulders dropped. His last connection with Hades was gone.

He pulled his knees to his chest and struggled with the onslaught of emotions he felt.

"Hades..." He sobbed, "I need you. Please. Come back to me."

John got up again and retreated back to his bedroom. His body and mind were exhausted.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock felt dizzy, nauseous, but he couldnt lay down, or even move, while all of the memories whizzed past him. He saw himself fucking random people, killing them, then as the ultimate insult, personally ferrying them to the Pool of Souls. He saw Fates, his one true friend, and Zeus, his older brother the one he always wanted to look up to, and he was rejected and abandoned, sentenced to rule Hell forever.

And then there was John. His John.

The John he found in an alleyway, then took to hell and took him, pounding into him until he ad drained his seed.

John, eating the pomegrante seed.

John, getting angry and leaving.

John dying.

John being reborn.

Years of waiting, then... elation at having his John back.

Then he was gone... off to Sydney

And those sandals, those robes as black as night, and that laugh...

And just like that, the memories stopped, and he jolted awake, falling out of bed with a loud crash and a yell.

[ihadabadday]

Molly stepped into the room. "Ah, it worked. Get up you louse, there is an interloper on your throne and your Persephone is dying."

Bit of a lie, but it would hopefully kick him into gear.

[seaweed_writes]

He had just sat up and was looking at his hands, trying to figure out exactly what had been happening in the last few minutes and what exactly was going on here when Molly burst into the room.

"Persephone is dying?" He was to her in a millisecond, his eyes burning deep. "Where is he?. Tell me. NOW!" Flames flared up from the top of his head and his eyes burnt an angry red.

He was still a bit confused and disoriented, everything was meshing together but it still took some time.. He wasn't 100% sure where he was or why he was her quite yet. But he knew who she was.

"Demeter. Long time no see." He growled. "Where is John?"

[ihadabadday]

"Sydney." She said with a wink, "Don't make him scream too loud."

Molly went back to her fields.

[seaweed_writes]

In a flash, Sherlock was in Sydney, but millions of people lived here. How was he supposed to find John? It was like trying to find a tiny broken sliver of a needle in a stack of haystacks.

He closed his eyes and tried to sense John, but he couldn't. Had Demeter been right, was something really wrong with his Persephone?

Sherlock had to know.. but where to start... Where would John be?

He could be anywhere.

[ihadabadday]

There was a glimmer of power. Persephone. Just a glimmer. But it was there, a beacon to draw Hades to his love.

John was asleep in his flat. He had found the talisman. It sat on his bedside table once more.

He turned in his bed, muttering. Muttering for Hades.

[seaweed_writes]

The feeling, it was a low, tingling feeling in his gut.

Sherlock went down a few roads, following his intuition... and he found that as he did, the feeling got a little stronger, and a little stronger. The closer he got, the more the warm feeling inside of him grew and radiated outwards.

He broke into a run, following the feeling now. He had no idea how close he was, but he knew he was getting closer.

"Persephone. I will be there soon Wait for me." He yelled to the heavens, not giving a shit if anyone else heard him right now.

[ihadabadday]

The power of Persephone called to Hades. Calling and beckoning. Close. So close. Persephone needed Hades.

John tossed and turned, whimpering. Nightmares plagued him. Loosing Hades over and over. Loosing Sherlock.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock had no idea how long he had been running, it was dark and the city was coming alive for the night.

Finally, he stopped at a tall building. John's flat was in there somewhere... but which floor?

He searched floor by floor, letting his feeling guide him.

It wasn't until he got to the 10th floor that he knew he was close.

Sherlock walked down the maze of hall until he got to 1040..

He could feel it, John was here.. His Persephone.. was right beyond the door.

Sherlock pounded on the door as loud as he could, yelling "JOHN! JOHN!"

He wanted to break down the door, but that would only be as a last resort.

[ihadabadday]

The power of Persephone reached out, drawing Hades in.

The door unlocked.

John was asleep in the room. He was deep in the sleep, his power restoring itself, righting itself.

Hades had returned. Hades was alive.

On the bedside table was the talisman he had given his Persephone so long ago.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock walked into the bedroom... John was in bed, asleep. Oh, by the gods, he was beautiful.

He walked over to the bedside table and took the stone. He took it in his hands and lit the fire again. He laid the stone on John's chest, then leaned down and kissed John gently on the lips.

"John... my Persephone.." He whispered in his lover's ear.

[ihadabadday]

John opened his eyes and blinked a few times. "Hades? Is this a dream?"

He hoped that it wasn't. He was tired of living without Hades. Without his love.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock leaned down, and gave him a long, languishing kiss on the lips. "Does this feel like a dream?" He asked with a smile.

His eyes canted down to the stone on John's chest, trying to get him to look at it as well.

[ihadabadday]

John made a noise at that kiss. Hades. His Hades... He was here. He remembered. Before he could pull him down, his attention was moved elsewhere.

His talisman.

He sat up and let it tumble into his hands. It was warm, so warm. He held it close and looked up at Sherlock. He set the stone aside and pulled him in. "I need you my love. Only you will do."

[seaweed_writes]

He put his hand over John's, the one that was holding the stone, tightening his grip. I swear to you, that stone will never fade, the fire will never go out again.

Sherlock watched as John put the stone back to the side.

Sherlock closed his eyes, giving John another, deeper kiss. "You have me, my love. You have have forever now. You and I are together. I will never let us part again. I will never part from you. Never again. "

[ihadabadday]

John kissed him eagerly, biting at his lips. He was eager. He missed Hades. He didn't realize he was crying.

"I felt so hollow without you. I never want to feel that again."

[seaweed_writes]

"You wont have to." Sherlock's hand wandered all over John's body, "Never." Sherlock desperately licked and nipped at any part of John's skin that he could get to.

Oh, he wanted to get those clothes off of John and just ravage him, to remember what they had for so long, so very long ago.

"Please... John... my Persephone..."

[ihadabadday]

He nodded. "Anything for you. I want to feel you."

John sat up and tugged the shirt he wore off. He needed... He needed that connection with Hades again.

It cemented them. Connected them.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock dipped his head down, licking and nipping at his collarbone, then lower, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking on it, using just enough teeth to let him feel it, but not quite enough to be painful.

"Oh... my Persephone.." He groaned, moving over to the other nipple, while his hands wandered the flat planes of his chest. Neither of them were particularly hairy, which was good for both of them, made him easier to explore and enjoy.

"Yess...."

[ihadabadday]

He ran a hand through Sherlock's hair, gasping. The feeling of those lips and hands on him after so long. John whined, opening himself to Hades.

"Oh Hades..."

He felt himself hardening, pressing against the seam of his sleep trousers. John sobbed and dragged his nails along the man's scalp.

[seaweed_writes]

"Mmm.. look at you, getting all hard for me." He teased gently. One of the hands on his chest went to John's sleep trousers, rubbing in little circles. "Oh... I have missed this. I have missed you so much."

Sherlock leaned down and kissed him again, deep and full, wrapping his long, lithe body around John's. He wanted to melt into him, to be one body, to never be apart.

"John... you still have too many clothes.." he growled, tugging at those pajama bottoms, trying to get them off. Then he remembered. He moved his fingers, and the pants were gone.

"Much better."

[ihadabadday]

John laughed. He had missed that. Missed Hades so. His Sherlock.

He pushed himself against the other man's body.

"I never let anyone have me in the years you were gone. I didn't want anyone else to have me." John admitted quietly.

He knew how his partner would react to that. The fact that no one else had him in hundreds of years. Not even the reborn Sherlock...

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock frowned, leaning away a little. Sadness and embarrassment clouded his face.

"I... I didn't know.. I was just a human, a mortal." He looked down, not wanting to meet John's face. "I... have been with people, male and female."

Sherlock started to lean back. "I understand if you are upset, if you want me to stop." He was Hades, but he was still a bit of Sherlock, not as evil or as cruel as he had been as a god alone. This.. of all things. helped him really understand human emotions.