"So what now?" asked John, once again in his jumper and nursing the adequate cup of tea he had been given. He knew it would be foolish to believe that nothing would change in his life after that performance. Only Mycroft, Phil, and Dr. Foster were in the kitchen, the rest in the living room chatting. John side-eyed the hammer that Thor had set down next to him on the cabinet, he was beginning to wish that he had never seen it.
Mycroft sighed, he was secretly wishing that it had only been a onetime thing, but it would seem the universe had other plans. He had excused himself while John was changing out of the armor that he had been granted and called Fury. Mycroft knew that he couldn't be trusted to make this decision objectively he was too close to it, something he should have done with Moriarty, should have taken a step back and refused to be baited by the psychopath. So it was decided that the safest place for John to learn to control these new powers was to go with Thor to New York.
"Nicholas seems to think that it would be beneficial that you go with Thor to train with the Avengers in New York" said Mycroft, a slightly sour look on his face. It was for the best, but he didn't have the reach in New York that he did in London, he couldn't protect John like he had been doing.
"Wait, you want me to go to New York City and train with superheroes?" asked John blankly his mind trying to wrap itself around that idea.
"Yes I find it to be in poor taste but you need to be trained on how to use these new abilities John. But think of it as training to be part of the reserves," assured Mycroft. "Thor is a big player for the Avengers, and having a backup would be beneficial for all."
"I don't need to be trained" said John exasperatedly, gesturing with his hand. Not expecting it when Mjolnir jumped into his hand. John looked blankly at the hammer before looking up at the smug Mycroft who was looking pointedly at the hammer and then at John. He sighed knowing that his argument was invalid. "I see your point" muttered John. He knew he needed to be trained but he was reluctant to leave London, even with Sherlock gone it was his home. He never saw himself living anywhere else.
"It won't be forever John, a few months and you will be able to come home" assured Mycroft, hoping that what he said was true. That in a few months John along with Sherlock would be back in Baker Street and besides the new scars and revelations, things would go back to what they used to be.
Some of the tension in John's shoulder's relaxed as he nodded, before asking the dreaded question. "When would I have to leave?"
"Tomorrow" answered Mycroft .
"Tomorrow!" demanded John gripping the kitchen countertop.
Mycroft nodded, before cutting John off as he began to speak again. "It's for your safety John, we do not know how many different organizations have access to this information of your new abilities. The Avengers would be able to keep you safe as you learn."
John ran a hand over his face and set down his tea cup. John had expected it to be soon, but not this soon. None of this felt real, it was like a dream that he couldn't wake up from, his life instantly changing every few minutes. Dr. Foster made a concern noise in the back of her throat and gently laid a hand on the others Doctor's shoulder.
John tried to compose himself but all present could see that the news was getting to him. Mycroft tapped his umbrella against the floor drawling attention back to himself.
"I think that it's time for us to leave, John still has to pack and I'm sure that you have to make the necessary arrangement for his arrival tomorrow Agent Coulson."
Coulson nodded, the Doctor looked like he needed a quiet place to process all of this. "Indeed Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson I will see you tomorrow at 6 o'clock."
John nodded, before turning to thank Dr. Foster for the tea and allowed Mycroft to steer him out of the flat after he said his farewells.
In the safety of the black car, John allowed himself to close his eyes and lean his forehead against the window efficiently conveying to Mycroft and Athena that he didn't want to talk about anything. The two wisely choose to let this pass and the car ride back to John's flat was silent except for the clicking of Athena's Blackberry. John only opened his eyes when he felt the car pull up to the curve. Athena gave him a small smile of encouragement and Mycroft's features were gentle as he looked at John.
"Get some sleep tonight John, I'll see you tomorrow" said Mycroft.
John gave a sharp nod and got out of the car and headed towards his flat. This flat was much the same as the one he had when he came back from the War. Just a simple bedsit, something he could afford without a flatshare, he never wanted another flatmate again. Reaching under his bed he pulled out his duffle and began to go around and collect his things until everything was in the bag.
John looked woefully at his one bag, he had been out of the army close to three years, yet he could still carry everything he owned in one large duffel bag. He had been used to in the army at just carrying what was the most important to him, he hadn't realized that he still did that when he moved in 221B. The flat had felt so much like home, he never felt like he needed to fill it with useless junk. He made sure to look around one last time to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything before picking up his bag and heading towards the door.
He glanced around the bedsit one last time, the place he had lived for these last few months, if he had one last night in London he was going to spend it at home and this place had never been home. Closing the door he walked towards 221B, not in the mood for getting into a cab. He had only gone a block when a black car pulled up next to him, and John rolled his eyes and just shook his head at the nearest CCTV camera but got in anyway. The driver didn't need direction as he smoothly glided back into traffic and drove straight to Baker Street.
After thanking him, John got out of the car and came to stand in front of the door hesitating for a moment before gripping the knocker and giving a series of loud knocks.
"John" greeted Mrs. Hudson as she opened the door and kissed his check, "Come in, I was afraid that Mycroft has spirited you away again."
John followed his landlady to her own flat where she busied herself in making tea and setting out a plate of biscuits. John sat down at the small table with his bag at his feet. Of course Mrs. Hudson noticed it and her face lite up and she opened her mouth to say something, but John cut her off before she could.
"Just for the night Mrs. Hudson" he answered softly. "I have to leave in the morning."
Mrs. Hudson smiled sadly and sat down across from him taking one of his hands she squeezed it, "I thought as much when I saw who was in the sitting room dearie. SHIELD, doesn't dilly dally around. Sherlock might have been the one that ensured my husband was executed but SHIELD was the one that first caught onto his operation; he found something, what I don't know."
John was surprised to say the least, but now the mystery of how Mrs. Hudson knew what SHIELD officers looked like was solved. Once again he marveled at the fact that despite Mrs. Hudson motherly attitude she knew a lot more than she let on. Finishing his tea he left her company and headed up the stairs. Mrs. Hudson had obviously been up while he had been at Thor's and straightened up the place.
John set the bag by his chair before going into the kitchen and fixing himself another cup of tea and as the reality of the day set in he went to the far corner cabinet and hidden behind an old box of crackers he pulled out a half bottle of whisky from New Years. He put a generous serving into his tea cup, from the day he had he needed something stronger than tea to sooth his frazzled nerves.
Putting the whiskey back into the cabinet he went back to the sitting room and settled into his chair and slowly began to drink his spiked tea, his eyes flickering everywhere except straight across from him to Sherlock's chair, until they landed on the photo of Sherlock and him laughing as they walked away from a crime scene. Next to it was the skull that caused more than one visitor to balk at the sight of it laying on the mantelpiece. Finishing his tea he stood and walked over the mantle fingering the edge of the frame of the photo before looking at the skull
John gently picked up the skull; he hadn't taken anything of Sherlock's when he first moved out of Baker Street, couldn't handle the memories attach to some pieces. But he had known that Baker Street was always close, always open. Mycroft told him that the rent was paid until John decided to face his demons and return back to Baker Street. John only wished that the reason for his return wasn't just to leave once again, this time to a whole different continent and if he was leaving he wanted to take a piece of Sherlock with him.
The skull might be a little morbid, but it brought fond memories walking in after his shifts of Sherlock draped over the couch with the skull on his chest as he slept, cuddling it like a teddy bear. Plus John could cover any questions one of the Avengers might ask by saying something along the lines that he was a doctor. He turned and also grabbed the picture and stuck both into his bag. He then settled back into his chair and tried to lose himself in some crappy telly.
When it came time for bed John found he couldn't sleep, he knew he probably that he should have went back to the flat that was near the clinic but he found that he didn't want to leave Baker Street. His fingers trailed the wooden walls as he eyes took in the flat memorizing the details that he could recall in his sleep. If he closed his eyes he could see Sherlock beside the window playing his violin, bent of his microscope in the kitchen, and finally stretched out on the couch in his thinking position. He could hear the phantom sound of his flatmate voice yelling 'Bored!' in the air. These memories still so fresh, the main reason he had moved out in the first place, because they hurt so much. But now they brought a small comfort, and John knew that he was finally making his peace with Sherlock's passing.
He paused in the middle of the living room, staring at the smiley face on the wall, feeling the world stop. John was about to leave the only sanctuary he had found since the army and suddenly the walls seemed to be shrinking as the reality sunk in, he was leaving London.
John didn't think as he threw on his coat and descended the steps quietly so not to disturb Mrs. Hudson as he opened the door and walked out into the dark London night. His feet seemed to have a mind of their own as they picked up speed and suddenly he was flying down London's darken allies, over paths that he and Sherlock had forged. Still John pushed harder going faster, imagining chasing after a figure in a long coat. John began to laugh as he ran, allowing all the memories to encompass him. Every chase, every giggle as he got closer and closer to his destination it was like he was alive once more. His heart starting to beat again after it had stopped that day at St. Barts. Streets began to blur at the speed John pushed himself to go, and strangely he didn't feel tired or exhausted as he finally stopped at where his feet had taken him, the cemetery.
John hadn't been back since the funeral, he could never get his feet to get any closer than the gate that allowed visitors in. But he only paused a second to take a deep breath before he slowly marched into the graveyard heading straight to the black stone that stood by itself by the edge of the cemetery. John thought nothing of it as he sat down and leaned his back against the stone, that despite the chill in the air was still warm from the sun that had set hours ago, contradictory to the very end it would seem with Sherlock. John didn't say anything for a few moments catching his breath with his eyes closed. It was with a sigh that he opened them.
"I'm leaving Sherlock, and I'm frightened" he whispered into the night air. "Not for my life, nothing like that. But how am I to do this? I'm not a super hero, I'm ordinary, a nobody. How can I help save the planet when I couldn't even save you" whispered John. "People have tried to tell me that it wasn't my fault, but I can't help it Sherlock. I left you alone in the lab, I called you a machine. I was so angry Sherlock, and I'm sorry I never got a chance to apologize, to tell you I was wrong; you had one of the biggest hearts that I ever knew underneath that cold exterior you git." John said chuckling, he could hear Sherlock scoffing in his head at even the mention that he was sentimental.
"I can't help it Sherlock, I am a sentimental man. So much that I wish that you were here with me, I'm sure I wouldn't be afraid if you were coming with me. I'm sure that we could have found a number of interesting crimes in New York that would have kept you busy while I was training with the Avengers. You could have seen if New York coppers were as incompetent as the ones at Scotland Yard, I know I would have liked that." John sat silently listening to the night, the city of London never silent, not even near a cemetery. It would be dawn in a few short hours and then John would be setting out to begin a new chapter of his life, to close the chapter that was once filled with criminals and deductions.
"Good-bye Sherlock" whispered John getting up and gently touching the top of the stone, once again wishing for that one miracle. Turning sharply on his heels John gently began to walk away from the cemetery, some of the weight that had been setting on his chest since Sherlock's suicide gone.
Across town Mycroft poured himself a generous glass of brandy, watching on his laptop as John slowly made his way out of the cemetery. His eyes and ears of Baker Street had alerted him that John had come out of Baker Street shortly after midnight and had taken off running into the night. Mycroft had gotten up immediately and had the CCTV cameras scanning the streets trying to find his wayward brother and it wasn't until the camera placed by Sherlock's grave did he relax. It was against his better judgment that he listened to John's confession. He listened to the soldier's unexpected confession and felt guilty as he heard John's daydreams of what could have been.
What was he to do when Sherlock returned? John was finally getting over his brother's 'death', going to Sherlock's grave was proof was enough. Mycroft was no fool to believe that John would get over this betrayal from not just one but two of the Holmes brother. Mycroft was thank-full that they hadn't told Mummy of the plans, or else Mycroft believed John would cut every connection he had with the Holmes's because of this betrayal. Mummy, he believed, would be key in keeping the family together.
He took a generous sip of brandy watching John slowly making his way back to Baker Street, soon another brother would be out of his reach of his help. He just hoped soon that both of them would be under his ever watchful eye again in the near future.
-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-
John walked slowly back to the flat, not caring that by the time he arrived the sun was turning pink as the sun began to peek over the horizon. The streets of London were slowly beginning to become busy as people began to get ready for the day. John tried to silently enter the flat but was defeated when the door to 221A opened to reveal Mrs. Hudson.
"John" she said.
"Sorry Mrs. Hudson I didn't mean to wake you" said John softly.
Mrs. Hudson waved his response off, "I wasn't asleep John, I heard you leave and decided to make you breakfast before you left. Come, come I have coffee and fresh scones" she said waving him into the flat John followed willingly, feeling slightly bad that he had woken his landlady when he had left that night.
"You didn't have to do this Mrs. Hudson" said John as Mrs. Hudson bustled around her flat setting plates of food on the small table.
Mrs. Hudson tsked and patted him on the shoulder, "I wanted to John, it was nice to have one of my boys back," said Mrs. Hudson sadly, dabbing at her eyes gently as John took her hand.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Hudson, I really am. I want nothing more than to stay here" said John looking around, "I finally feel that I can come back here without Sherlock's ghost haunting me."
Mrs. Hudson smiled and squeezed his hand. "The flat will be open when you get back dearie, it will always be yours and Sherlock's home and I would rather have it empty than have anyone else living above me."
John just smiled, knowing if he spoke his voice would crack from all the emotions he was feeling. Mrs. Hudson seemed to realize this and began a steady monologue of what all the neighbors had been doing since John had left and John just soaked it all it, mechanically eating everything Mrs. Hudson set in front of him. Both jumped in surprise when there came a loud knock from the door.
John gave Mrs. Hudson a small smile before getting up and heading towards the door to the street. Opening it he was surprised to find Agent Coulson standing on the stoop instead of Mycroft.
"Morning, Dr. Watson ready to go?" asked Coulson entering the flat.
"Just let me grab my bag" said John, turning and heading upstairs leaving Phil on the landing. Phil nodded to Mrs. Hudson when she appeared in her doorway with a Tupperware bowl in her hands. Moments later John was coming down the stairs with the bag over his shoulder. He set it down when he reached the landing and walked over to Mrs. Hudson who held out the bowl.
"Something for the road dear, now I want a phone call every week young man" ordered Mrs. Hudson as she handed the bowl over. "I want to know how you are doing."
John smiled and pulled Mrs. Hudson into a hug, "Of course Mrs. Hudson" he said kissing her check. "Thank-you, for everything."
Mrs. Hudson sniffed as she pulled away and dabbed a few tears away as she smoothed out John's jumper. John gently took her hands into his and looked into her eyes. "I will be back Mrs. Hudson, back before you know it."
Mrs. Hudson smiled a watery smile, "I know John, you are always such a good boy" she said cupping his check. "Take care of yourself John."
"I will, see you soon Mrs. Hudson" said John, refusing to say good-bye. Saying good-bye would make John feel like he was never coming back, and he was determined to come back.
"See you soon," returned Mrs. Hudson watching as her boy turned and followed the Agent out of her door.
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I hoped you liked! Please review! Next chapter John meets the Avengers.