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]

"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.

[ihadabadday]

"He's having a hard time merging the sides of him." Greg said. He had appeared behind Sherlock. "It's close. But now close enough."

Without even being asked, he stepped forward and pressed two fingers to Sherlock's forehead. He showed him how most human's showed the other that they cared. Through actions and words. With meaning behind it. Not wanting for something.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock turned towards Greg, his face a mask of anger and frustration.

Before Sherlock could respond to what Fates had said, he felt the fingers on his forehead, and a wealth of information rushed into his brain. He saw kissed and hugs, words to say and little things that can be done- none of which of course he had ever done before.

It was all so much, he pulled away from Greg when the information stopped.

"I... I'm supposed to do all of those things, cook for him, give him words of encouragement, hold him for no reason.... and those things will help him merge the mortal and god sides of him?" He asked, for once his voice was unsure.

[ihadabadday]

"You don't have to do it all Sherlock. But this one is human and fragile." Greg noted, "He wants to be loved and cared for. Something he hasn't had much of in his life."

He looked at Sherlock, studying him. "Surely you remember what it was like having John ripped from you. The emptiness that came after... That's how John is all the time right now."

[seaweed_writes]

He remembered it well. It was a feeling that he would never forget in all his eons. He wouldn't forget it because he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice- something he was afraid that he was doing right now. He wasn't sure he would make it through again.

Can someone without a heart die of a broken one, he wondered.

If Sherlock was going to describe John, 'fragile' would not be one of the words. One of the reasons that he was drawn to HIS John originally was because of his strength.

But he didn't argue with Fates. He kept his thoughts to himself, for once.

"I... I will try. But I can't be human. I'm not. I never was. I don't understand those feelings and emotions that these... mortals have."

[ihadabadday]

Greg was quiet for a moment. "Do you trust me Sherlock?" He asked stepping over to the man so he was standing in front of him. He watched the God of Death, hoping he would agree to the crazy scheme in his head.

48 hours with human emotions, a whole gambit of them, to try and give the god an idea of how to relate to John Watson.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. It was rare that Fates ever said that. What in the world did he have up his.. well what he was wearing had no sleeves, but still.

Of course, he was one of the only gods, or really any entity on any plane that Sherlock did trust. He found himself nodding his head, against his better judgement.

"I do, but why do you ask?" He said, with some trepidation.

[ihadabadday]

"I know of a way that you can better understand what John Watson needs, to relate to him so the transition from mortal to demi-god will be easier." He explained to Sherlock as he sat on the next next to the man.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock thinned his eyes and crossed his arms. "If you are thinking of making me mortal for a time, then the answer is no." That was something that he would never do. He wanted to understand John's emotions, but if it meant that he would have to become mortal, then he would find another way. That was off the table permanently.

[ihadabadday]

"No, it would not make you mortal. It would simply give you the ability to feel the emotions of a mortal for 48 hours. There would be chaos and havoc if you were mortal for that period of time." Greg answered.

[seaweed_writes]

"There might be chaos and havoc if I can feel the emotions of the dying people that I am ferrying to the underworld." He said. That was an immediate worry of his as soon as Greg stated his plan. "I don't want to turn into some sniveling, bawling... mortal woman every time I see a person die. Will that happen if you give me these... emotions?"

[ihadabadday]

"They would be yours, yours to understand and catalog and process for the duration. How you handle them is up to you. But it could allow you to get a better insight into John." Greg looked at the sleeping man.

[seaweed_writes]

There were a lot of things that could go very wrong with this. "If having these.. emotions.. compromises my ability to do my job of ferrying souls, there will be Hell to pay with Zeus." He said simply. He knew Greg wouldn't do anything to intentionally cause him trouble, but he had the feeling neither of them really knew what was going to happen.

"If you can assure me that I can still do my job, then yes, I want to do this." He almost whispered, his voice unsure.

[ihadabadday]

"It depends on how you react to them. I cannot guarantee that it will affect you." Greg answered, "Some did not allow it to affect them, some succumbed to the emotions. Sometimes the strongest were the ones to succumb, and the weakest were the ones to flourish and triumph over them."

"It is up to you."

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock really didn’t see any other way to get through to John. Obviously whatever else he was doing was not working.

It was a huge risk, but he was sure that John was worth it.

Sherlock too a moment to compose himself, he closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded his head slightly.


“Alright. I’ll do it. What do I need to do? “

[ihadabadday]

"Close your eyes and trust me." Greg said. He just needed Sherlock to sit still, for the man to remain calm.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock took one more look at John. 'This is for you.' he thought to himself.
Then he took a seat on a chair beside the bed, put his feet flat on the floor, put his hands on his lap, and closed his eyes.

He nodded his head, indicating to Greg that he was ready.

[ihadabadday]

Greg stepped over and put one hand to Sherlock's heart and the other to his forehead. He whispered a few words in a language that many thought long dead.

It was only minutes before a flood of emotions rushed to Sherlock. Love, anger, happiness, sadness, depression, euphoria. Everything all at once, until it mellowed out, leaving just peace. From there, it depended on Sherlock.

[seaweed_writes]

Sherlock's eyes shot open! It was all too much, flooding into him, this wealth of emotions that he couldn't categorize. He didn't have time to deal with one before another hit him.

Just when he thought he couldn't take any more, it all calmed down, the feelings melted into the background of his consciousness, and he was left with a peaceful feeling, soft around the edges.

He blinked a couple of times, and he was surprised to find himself breathing hard. He could make himself look like he was breathing, but very rarely did he did it without thinking. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then he looked over from Greg, then to John.

He had no idea what this feeling was. It was warm, calming and at the same time protective.

Was this.. the love that these mortals talked about?

He looked back to Fates, trying to judge what he thought. Now that he had these emotions, at least for the next 48 hours, he wasn't even sure what to do with them, or about them.

[ihadabadday]

Greg sat back down and looked at Sherlock. Many underestimated the Fates, perceiving them as weak, a thought to be disregarded. But the Fates saw everything, every outcome, thought, hope, anything that could change the course of anyone's life. And it just wasn't those that believed in the Greek gods, it was everyone in the world. All seven billion people. It was a wonder he wasn't insane.

John made a noise, letting out a breath.

Greg smiled. "What are you feeling right now?"

[seaweed_writes]

"Annoyance at having to look at your ugly face." He said with a smile.

Sherlock looked over to John, then back to Greg. "I don't know how to describe some of the emotions. Protective. Happy. A sort of.... warm.. feeling when I look at him, like I don't want to take my eyes away."

He blinked a couple of times, getting himself under control. "Is that... love, Greg?"

[ihadabadday]

Greg nodded. "I've heard it described that way many a time." He answered before reaching out to touch Sherlock's arm.

"If it gets too much, please, call for me." He stood up and stepped back, vanishing in a swirl of light.

[seaweed_writes]

It already felt like it was too much. This.. love.. if that's what it was... it was something that he couldn't just turn off, it invaded his every thought.

It made him feel weak and vulnerable, and he didn't like it at all. How did humans even deal with these bloody emotions, he wondered? This was intolerable! The next 48 hours were going to be torture. He knew it.

He was already thinking that this was a mistake, that he had erred when he decided to do this, that there had to be another way to win John.

But Hades, the Lord of the Dead and Hell was not weak. He was not going to let this get the best of him. He was not going to cave in and have these taken away. He said that he would do this, so he was going to see this through.

No matter how much it hurt.

[ihadabadday]

John opened his eyes, making a small noise. He sat up, rubbing his face. He looked to Sherlock. And it felt like his heart was in his throat.

Sherlock.

He swallowed and reached out, touching his cheek.

[seaweed_writes]

"John." Oh, by the gods, this was torture,the best and worst torture ever- at the same time.

He felt like his heart that he didn't even need was going to burst, just looking into John's deep blue eyes.

Why... were his eyes leaking? What in the world was going on with him? He was a mess!

Sherlock leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and trying to will these conflicting emotions away, but it was nothing doing.

John was going to know that something was different. He was hoping that he wouldn't have to admit to what he had agreed to, but that seemed very unlikely, unless he could get himself under better control.

"John." He whispered his time, leaning in to kiss the hand that caressed him.