The boy was fast.

John's sandals slapped the earth beneath him as he made another dive for the child, but at the last second the boy switched directions. John crashed painfully into an old oak tree that cracked as his weight went through it. Demigods tended to have that effect on nature. He rose to his knees and shook his head. Blonde hair fell into his eyes. He was surprised at the child's timing, he seemed to know exactly when to twist or turn.

Mycroft was calling out orders behind him, no doubt shouting himself hoarse. John knew the boy was scared, they had all been scared, but the end was always inevitable. Sons of Zeus were always enslaved to Hera, it was their curse. John rose back to his feet.

"Boy!" He shouted. "Child!"

He heard scampering in the distance. The boy was trying to climb into a tree. His small hands were gripping desperately at a branch that was just above his tiny fingers. He noticed John staring at him and squealed. He tried to jump higher.

John felt pity for the boy with black hair and their father's eyes. He took a step towards the small figure. The boy put his back against the tree with his wild blue eyes challenging the older man fiercely. John lips betrayed a small smile at the thin little boy.

He was braver than any of them had been, but he was also older. John, himself had been taken at the age of four, this boy was seven maybe eight. The boy had known his mother and had probably loved her well. John had been raised by Mycroft, who had no doubt just killed off the small boy's mother. John took a small step towards the dark haired boy.

"What is your name, child?" He said softly.

"Sherlock." The boy said harshly.

"Sherlock, that is a good strong name." John said encouragely.

The boy looked surprised at the kind words, he shifted his feet nervously. John gave a small smile. "My name is Jonathan, but you can call me John. How old are you, child?"

"Seven."

The hunter dogs barked angrily behind him. Sherlock's little face paled.

John stepped forward so quickly the small boy didn't have time to react. John hoisted him up into the tree by the collar of the rags he was wearing. He pushed him up into the tree forcefully. The boy whimpered as his knee collided into the hard bark. "Sherlock, keep climbing the tree. Do not stop until you are well hidden. I can't save you if Mycroft finds you, understand?"

The boy's eyes widened to the size of small pebbles. John made sure he was secure on his branch before he took a step away from the small boy. "Stay hidden."

John didn't know why he felt pity for the small child. He had always found it easy to complete his missions before. Perhaps it was the way the child looked at him, not with fear like the rest of the children. His eyes had blazed with confidence that hid the fear behind them.

Mycroft was shouting behind him, angrily giving commands to soldiers who were looking in vain for a smart little boy. John smiled, the boy was clever there was no doubt about that. It had taken five sons of Zeus to bring down a seven year old. Mycroft darted up to him.

"Have you seen the boy?"

"No, Master." John said calmly.

"Well search over there with the others then!" Mycroft grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and shoved him forward. John stumbled to join the others.

"I want him found!"

Above him there was a small rustling sound. Mycroft cocked his head to the side as he glared into the tree. He couldn't make out the small figure that clung strategically to the middle of the trunk. He called John back to him. "Are you positive you haven't seen the boy?"

"Yes, Master." John lied easily.

"Then what is that?" He pointed into the tree where the sound was coming from.

"Wind?" John's question was answered with a hard strike across the face. John dropped to one knee with blood coursing from his nose. He gave a small grunt.

"Our father is the king of wind. If it was that, I would know. Get into that tree and pull whatever you find down here."

"Does that include leaves, Mycroft?" John growled through his fingers. Mycroft raised his hand and struck him again across the jaw repeatedly. He gripped his throat tightly in his hand.

"Do you wish to defy me, Jonathan?"

"No." John struggled for air. His feet dangled uselessly beneath him, he didn't dare kick his master. John's eyes began to roll back into his head. He gave a final gasp, ready to pass out.

"No!" A small voice shrieked from the tree. The boy slid down the trunk carefully and jumped down the last few feet. He rushed behind the eldest man and gave a mighty kick to his shins. Mycroft dropped John to the ground with the little boy locked in his sights.

"Don't hurt him!" The boy tried to kick him again, but Mycroft struck him almost as hard as he had John. The boy staggered backwards, his foot caught on a rock. He tumbled onto his butt without as much as a cry. His eyes were blazing with hatred. John couldn't help but admire the child. "Don't you hurt him!"

Mycroft narrowed his eyes. He picked the boy up by the back of his ragged shirt and shook him. The child squirmed viciously in his grip. John rose to his feet slowly.

"Mycroft, please. He's scared." John said softly. He wiped his nose bleed on his sleeve. "Remember how scared you were?"

"I knew who my superiors were, I gave myself up."

"Then you're a big baby!" Sherlock shouted. His feet were kicking wildly beneath him. "You should have fought back. You should have ran!"

"I'll show you where running gets you." He smacked the boy across his ribcage. Sherlock screamed in pain, Mycroft repeatedly smashed his fist into the small boy's body.

"Mycroft please!" John snatched the child out of his master's vice grip and held him against his chest. Sherlock wrapped his thin arms around John's neck and his legs around his stomach. John could already see bruises forming on his small body. The medical doctor in him wanted to examine the boy immediately, the slave in him waited for Mycroft to give him permission.

"He is an insolent child." Mycroft snarled, his face was full of rage. "I will beat it out of him.

"Sherlock, apologize for what you said to Mycroft." He said softly into the boy's ear. Sherlock shook his dark head. John gave him a gently squeeze, which caused him to flinch. "If you don't they may beat you again. Do you want that?"

Sherlock had tears in his eyes that refused to fall. "No."

"Apologize."

"I am sorry, Mycroft. I'm sure you didn't mean to be a complete chicken."

Mycroft lunged at the child with murder in his eyes. John quickly sidestepped him with the child held closely to his chest. "Hera wanted him unharmed, Master."

"Hera will put him in my care, and then we'll see exactly what how he feels about his new master."

Sherlock's tiny arms tightened around John's neck. "You're not my master!"

Mycroft turned on his heel to prevent himself from punching the boy any more than he already had. "I'm going to round up our brothers. Bring him to Olympus, clean him up, and gag him before he goes to Hera."

Sherlock whimpered, but at last had the sense to stay silent. Mycroft shimmered and disappeared in bright gold light. Sherlock took the opportunity look at John's face properly. He saw friendly blue eyes, untidy blonde hair, and an oddly shaped nose that made him seem younger. He put his small hands on his face to feel John smile. He giggled happily as the man's muscles turned up.

John laughed and set the child down, while holding tightly to the boy's hand. He gently pulled the boy's shirt up to see the dark welts forming on his stomach. John touched them tenderly, a small green light formed under his fingers. The wounds began to vanish.

The boy gasped. "Are you a god, sir?"

"No, child. I am a slave to Apollo when I am not serving Hera."

"Which god will I be a slave too?"

"I don't know, child."

"Will Mycroft really be my master?" He said with his eyes trained on his disappearing injuries.

John hesitated. The child was clinging to his hand already, as if scared someone would take John away from him. He hoisted the child back into his arms. "If you behave, if you do exactly as I say, I may be able to get Hera to agree that I should be your master. MAY BE able to, but Sherlock you must behave."

Sherlock looked away from John. "I don't want anyone to be my master."

"I am sorry, boy. I will be a good master to you though. I swear, Sherlock."

"Thank you, sir." The tears in the boy's eyes finally fell. John protectively put his hand on the Sherlock's head. The dark curls tickled his palm. "Thank you, Master John."

Both bodies began to shimmer in a bright dazzling gold light. The world around them began to fade, as Olympus came into view. Sherlock gasped as he saw the home of the gods.

Olympus was beautiful, mostly because of the slaves that kept it that way. It had lush green grass that was perfectly kept, there wasn't a brown spot to be found, there were flowers Sherlock had never seen before, that were colors Earth had not been entitled to, the castle that sat on the mountain was a brilliant gold and white color, and it had a statue that depicted Zeus in the most beautiful way.

Sherlock struggled for words. "It…I…will I…"

"You can ask questions, you know." John chuckled warmly.

"No. The answers are all obvious, Master John. I'm just startled." Sherlock whispered.

John didn't know what to say to the young boy. Sherlock didn't seem to be stupid, in fact he seemed too clever for his own good. It was not a good quality for a slave to have.

"Sherlock, how would you like to see my home?"

The boy nodded eagerly. John pressed his forehead to Sherlock's, he felt a great tenderness for the boy well up in his chest. John took him to his small hut, it wasn't much, it probably wouldn't be enough for the two of them, but Sherlock loved it.

"You live in a house, Master?"

"Of course I do, boy."

"My mother and I didn't." Sherlock said as if in a trance. "Where is my mother? Is she alright? Did Mycroft hurt her?" Sherlock's eyes were frantic. He wiggled to be put down.

"I won't lie to Sherlock, it is unlikely your mother survived."

Sherlock gave a small hiccup. He feel to his knees with a muffled sob, John wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders, and helped him to his feet. Sherlock was too numb to walk on his own. He had to lean his weight into John's leg, he sobbed loudly at the thought of his mother passing.

He didn't realize he was in John's tiny bathroom, until the older man pulled his rags gently off him. John plopped him into the tub, the boy shrieked as the hot water meet his skin. His muscles relaxed slowly into the side of the tub. He bowed his and sobbed into the hot water. John scrubbed his back until the water turned a light brown. Sherlock refused to let him scrub his front, he insisted he could do it himself. When he came out of the tub John realized how pale the boy truly was.

With all the dirt washed away Sherlock looked like a ghost. He was so thin John immediately went into his kitchen and got an apple. He cut it into small pieces and passed the plate to Sherlock. Sherlock shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

"Eat." John demanded sternly.

"You just told me my mother died. How can you expect me to eat?" He snapped.

John raised his hand in the air menacingly, Sherlock flinched immediately. "You promised, John. You promised to be a good master." He took an apple swiftly to avoid being hit. He bit into it with a disgusted look. He chewed slowly, but looked as if he wanted to spit it out.

"Sherlock. Sherlock, don't eat…don't eat if you don't want to. You're just so thin, I worry about you."

"You worry about my wellbeing, and yet you raise a hand to strike me? That's idiotic."

John gapped at the boy. "Sherlock?"

"Sorry! I'm sorry, please don't hit me." He flinched with his hands in front of his face.

"I will never hit you Sherlock. I'm sorry I raised my hand to you, it's how I was brought up. Mycroft used to make it so I couldn't walk."

"Master John, will Mycroft do that to me?" He asked with watery eyes.

"Please, Sherlock, please behave when you meet Hera. If you do this Mycroft will never touch you. When you meet Hera bow and then kneel. Don't speak unless spoken to, do not speak as you speak to me. You must even be respectful to Mycroft."

"But…"

"Sherlock."

"Yes, sir."

John helped the boy out of the tub and into a fresh tunic. Sherlock looked younger with the large tunic on and a clean pale face. He smiled at John happily. There was a loud knock on the door. Sherlock ran into John's arms at the sound.

"Don't leave me, Master John!"

"Hush, child, hush. It's only Mycroft come to collect us." John soothed.

Mycroft opened the door after the third knock. He had changed as well. He wore an odd looking toga that showed off his muscles. Sherlock clung to John nervously.

"I hope he hasn't grown too close to you, John. I assure you he won't see you after today."

"Forgive me if I doubt you, Master." He smiled at the boy.

"I told you to gag him." Mycroft said shortly.

"He doesn't need one, Mycroft. He was just scared, as I told you."

"Is this true, child?"

Sherlock looked at John. It was clear he was biting back retorts. "Yes, sir."

"Very well then, but I warn you do not cross me."

"I won't, sir."

Mycroft nodded approvingly. "Come."

Sherlock made the movement children often did when they wanted to be picked up, his hands grasped the air in front of him. John complied. Mycroft sneered at the weakness of a child. John once again protectively placed his hands on the child's back and head. Sherlock nuzzled his palm.

Mycroft lead them on a long path that lead down to large arena. The arena was painted a bright white, that reflected the sun so much Sherlock shielded his eyes in John's neck. John wasn't sure, but he thought he heard Sherlock whimper.

"I'm here, Sherlock." He whispered soothing.

"Thank you, sir." He whispered back.

They entered the arena. It seemed to Sherlock that the light only grew brighter, he pulled his face away from John's neck. At the other end of the arena sat a beautiful woman, Sherlock gave a small gasp at the site of her.

She had long brown hair that was perfectly braided down the side of her body. She was slender with challenging blue eyes. She was almost as tall as Mycroft, who Sherlock identified as six and a half feet tall. John set him on the ground and bowed low. Sherlock followed his movements.

John took several steps forward until he was at the base of the throne, where he kneeled in the dirt. Mycroft followed him, both man kept their heads down, but Sherlock stood in the entrance looking stunned.

"Mother?" He gasped.

"No, my child." She said warmly for a goddess. "I am the queen of heaven, mother of all. That is why you see your mother in my face." She smiled. Sherlock couldn't help, but smile back.

"You are beautiful ma'am." He wanted her to know how pretty she looked to him. He didn't know why, but he knew he needed her to know. "Really, properly beautiful."

"Thank you, my love." She made a motion that he should join John and Mycroft at her feet.

He checked himself immediately. "Yes, ma'am! Sorry ma'am." He knelt next to John and after a moment bowed his head. John gave him a long hard look that made Sherlock blush. He hadn't made it two minutes before he disobeyed John. Even his mother had a problem controlling him when there was something on his mind. "Sorry."

John quickly shushed him as Hera began to speak. "My lord Mycroft, tell me, did this child come willing?"

"No, lady. He fought very hard to stay away from us."

"Was it explained to him that his queen wished him to come to Olympus?" She asked grandly.

"Of course, my lady."

"After threw me into a wall." Sherlock muttered. He flinched as he realized he had once again disobeyed.

"What was that, child?" Hera's voice sounded amused.

"He threw me into a wall so hard I lost my back tooth, my lady. He kicked me in front of my mother until…" He stopped at the mention of his mother. "I was frightened so I ran. I didn't mean to be disrespectful." He paused.

"How did the boy manage to avoid you for so long, Mycroft?" She hid a giggle in her hand at the clever boy. He was quite the charmer,

"Help." Mycroft looked at John accusingly.

John stayed silent.

"Is this true, John?"

"Yes, my lady." He whispered softly. "I helped him hide in a tree, he was terrified Mycroft would kill him."

"Why did you not bring him to your master?"

"I was also afraid Mycroft would kill him. Mycroft doesn't like older children, and I was concerned an accident may occur."

Hera nodded. "It is true Mycroft doesn't like older children, but I doubt he would kill him. I gave him direct orders to keep him alive."

John bit his lip so hard blood dripped from it. He remained silent until Hera noticed the blood. "Speak, John."

"My lady there has been accidents before where children have gone missing. Mycroft is careless with children, I would sooner give Sherlock to the wolves than Mycroft. He…"

"Enough! You will not speak to your master like that!" The queen scoffed. "Mycroft will discipline you as he sees fit."

Almost instantaneously Mycroft kicked John full in the face. John's body flew over Sherlock's and landed with a small crunch a few feet away. Sherlock screamed.

"No! Why would you tell him to speak and then punish him for it? If you don't want him to speak don't give him permission!"

"Not giving permission hasn't stopped you, boy!" Mycroft made a mad kick towards Sherlock's ribs, but the boy rolled and managed to rise.

"He didn't do anything wrong!"

"Unlike you, child. You have done everything wrong." Mycroft's eyes were white with rage.

"Then punish me, but leave Master John alone!" Sherlock demanded.

Mycroft raised his fist. Sherlock cringed, but didn't move to escape the blow. Hera stopped Mycroft with a swift hand gesture that sent him flying across the arena. Sherlock dropped to his knees in fear.

"You are a very brave boy when it comes to people you love, aren't you?"

"Yes ma'am."

"You wish for John to be your master instead of Mycroft." It wasn't a question.

"Yes ma'am." Sherlock looked to where John was laying unmoving.

"Go to him."

Sherlock pitched himself to John's side. "Master! Please, please be alright."

"Sherlock." The older man groaned.

"Master." Sherlock said softly. "I'm sorry I disobeyed you. This is my fault."

"No. No, Sherlock. It's not your fault."

Sherlock let a small cry, but nodded at his master. "I'm still sorry."

Hera smiled warmly. "Sherlock I have enjoyed meeting you, and I see now it is easier for you to obey someone you care about over someone who beats you. You may stay with John, as long as you obey me fully."

Sherlock nodded frantically. "I will ma'am. I promise."

She smiled at the youth. "I am sure you will."

Mycroft stuttered stupidly. "M-my lady?"

Hera smiled inwardly to herself. As the boy grew older he'd need to be controlled, and his heart would make him more obedient than any blows Mycroft would deliver.