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

[ihadabadday]

'Look forward to sinking my cock in that plush arse of yours again.' Attached was a picture of a well endowed hard cock.

There were other men out there that were having John Watson, claiming him in the way that Sherlock had.

He shifted a bit on the couch, his robe falling open just a bit. He was nude under it.

[seaweed_writes]

Burning red hatred flamed in Sherlock's eyes. This man had had John, taken him.. what should have been his all along.
When John shifted, and his robe fell open, he could see that soft, pink cock laying against his thigh, the cock that he had licked, stroked, had taken into his body.

He didn't even give a second thought to the picture of the cock, longer and thicker than John's with a strange leftwards bent to it. This man would pay.

Sherlock had a favor to cash in.

To do human business, he had a mobile phone, one he didn't use more than he had to. But this was important.

He texted Charon, his ferryman for the dead.

I need you to kill a mortal. I don't care how, or what you do with him, make it look like a suicide.

Charon was about as hedonistic as him, and he knew that if he told the man he didn't care how he died, it would most likely involve non consensual sex, a lot of blood, and pain before the man died.

Text me when its done.

He put up his phone, smiling at a job well done.

[ihadabadday]

John shifted a bit and then opened his eyes. He looked at Sherlock. He sat up and rubbed his face. "Sorry, I must have drifted off to sleep. I had a long day in the A&R..." He yawned and then shifted to lean against Sherlock. He didn't see his phone in the man's hand.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock quickly hid the phone behind his back, using his body to block what he was doing while his hand went behind his back and put it back on the table.

He stood up to disguise what he had done. "You'll sleep better if you are in your own bed." he said, offering John his hand to help him up to his feet, trying to avoid looking at the robe that was hanging open. Sherlock was still only in his towel, he hadn't even had time to get dressed yet.

[ihadabadday]

He whined but then took Sherlock's hand and stood up. "Are you going to come with me? Or do you want to go home?" He hoped he was hiding the look of hopefulness on his face.

He wanted Sherlock to stay and wanted more with the man. He knew he would need to cut out some of his friends with benefits over the months.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock didn't need to sleep, and he didn't really want to lay in bed for 8 hours or however long John was going to be asleep, waiting for him to wake up again.

If he thought waiting for 10 minutes might kill him with boredome, 8 hours would be pure torture.

But he saw the look on John's face, the one he tried to hide but was doing an awful job at it.

"I will stay." He said, softly. Maybe he could get up when John was asleep and amuse himself on John's laptop while the man snoozed away.

[ihadabadday]

John led him to his bedroom. Truthfully, he never brought his friends with benefits over, he just went to their place. He sat on the bed and watched Sherlock for a moment.

"Are you human?" He asked after a moment. His entire life he'd had an intuition when it came to gods versus humans.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock froze where he stood, by the bed, in front of a sitting John.

Even though gods were in the Overworld, and humans knew that they were there, they almost never actually revealed who they were. These companies that the gods ran employed humans, demigods, and gods, so there was no telling who on the staff was a god. Often, the head of the company was a just a human puppet, a person placed there to do the gods bidding so they didn't have to get directly involved.

There was no hard and fast rule saying that you couldn't reveal yourself as a god while in the Overworld, but it was... frowned upon.

"Why would you think I wasn't a human?" Sherlock asked warily. He he done something to reveal himself? He had been so careful. He went over the past hours but couldn't think of any giveaways.

"I could ask the same of you. Are you human?" Sherlock knew John would say yes, even though that wasn't the whole truth.

[ihadabadday]

"You... You have this aura about you. It's something I've always seen around various people. So I assumed that you might not be fully human." The blonde looked down at his hands, "If I overstepped my bounds..."

John let out a breath. "You don't have to stay. You can go." He got up and nearly ran into the bathroom, shutting the door. He didn't want Sherlock to see. He was trembling, and it almost felt like like... Like there was something under the surface, threatening to break free. He didn't want Sherlock to see the gold in his eyes.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock let out a long sigh. If he wanted to get the man's memories back, he was going to have to be honest with him.

He walked over to the loo and spoke through the door. "No. " He said simply. "I am not human." He didn't really want to elaborate on that.

"I don't need to sleep, but I want to stay with you." He said, loudly enough that he knew he could be heard. "I can stay with you in your bed until you fall asleep. And I can be there when you wake in the morning, if you would like for me to."

[ihadabadday]

"Please go." John asked quietly. He just...

He didn't want Sherlock to see him like this. He barely noticed as there was a gold glow around him.

It seemed the part of him that was Ares and Persephone, the years he had been both the sides had merged to become something new, was awakening before his memories did.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock almost roared in frustration, pacing back and forth in front of the loo door.

He didn't understand these mortals and their weird emotions. First he said that he wanted him to stay, now he says that he wants him to go. Which is it? Why can't these humans make up their feeble little minds?

"Fine. I thought you wanted me to stay. If you want me to go, I will." He turned away from the loo door. Maybe it wasn't worth the fight. If John was going to be like this, then he wasn't the John that he remememberd, that he wanted.

He'd go back to Hell. Fuck the company and fuck the Fates, he was no help anyways.


Maybe he'd stop for a good hard revenge fuck while he was at, find some junkie that he could kill that no ne would care about.

[ihadabadday]

He didn't know what was wrong. It didn't know why he was feeling like he was being split in two. Oh god it hurt. He crumpled onto the floor with a cry, holding his head. What was going on? Why did it hurt like this?

John sobbed and curled against himself. It felt like lightening rocketing through him, ripping him open and breaking him.

[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?