Written because it needed to be done. I do not own Sherlock or anything out of Sherlock, nor the characters, nor the brilliant writing or personalities. I do not gain anything financial from this, only the joy of seeing others liking the story.
Also, in case you were all wondering. Each chapter's title is the actual name of a song sung by sailors, which I found on a lovely website while researching Merfolk facts and lore. Have fun, and please review!
So it is almost 70 degrees outside yesterday (Leap Day) and today, which is unheard of in February where I live. It should still be winter outside. So this chapter will be late for you all reading it, as it was supposed to come out a lot faster than what it did. Sorry for that, but I can't miss an opportunity to go outside in the middle of winter and read my newly acquired book, written by our very own Mark Gatiss. Thanks for you patience and I hope you enjoy this.
Also, a note to my anons and reviewers, as well as all of those who follow, favorite, or just read this story. Thank you very, very much. You have no idea how much I appreciate all the feedback, and hope to hear from more of you in the future.
You can find the Magnifier Necklace that I imagine Sherlock wears constantly on Amazon, an amazing little discovery I made when I went to purchase some books the other day. I don't know how Amazon knows that I would want one, seeing as how I've looked at nothing remotely similar. My Amazon account reads my Fan Fiction, it is the only explanation.
Chapter Ten: Asleep In The Deep
The whistle always produced a sharp, high pitched noise when Sherlock blew into it at first, the welcome tone a lingering sound that stabbed at human eardrums with a ferocity that only others who had heard the sound understood. It had to be able to penetrate the ocean depths of course, to reach John wherever he was swimming at, so of course it was shrill. Logically Sherlock knew that, but it didn't make the sound any less irritating to his ears or grating on his heart. Nor did the response call that John easily produced when he broke the surface of the water some ways out, his blonde head surely bobbing in the surf where he swam.
Of course Sherlock couldn't see him from his face down position on the deck, the only things in his line of sight were the woodgrain of the deck and part of his own shirt collar that was capped by a tuft of his dark curls, as well as a lot of boots from the other passengers on the ship. (And Moran's fingers that had wrapped themselves both in his shirt and the hair at the nape of his neck, the long digits digging in slight where they found purchase.) But he could imagine the slight confusion John would show at not seeing him -or any of the other familiar crew- at the side of the ship waiting, the whistle still in his hands and a smile on his face. He could imagine clearly the second call that could come just to make sure it was safe.
Sure enough a second, more drawn out trill pierced the morning air, Sherlock's answering call just as it always was, no hesitancy in it, not while Moriarty still had a gun trained on Tiny Tim. He couldn't afford to even hesitate a moment where this matter was concerned, no matter how much he wanted too for John's sake. And John would know then that something was wrong, when he couldn't see Sherlock and the calls were hesitant or incorrectly timed, to shrill or long or any number of other factors. He would know and would swim off and leave the crew to their deaths. Oh god, why was this forsaken situation so bloody difficult?
"Sir... There's something in the water." One of the men standing near the side of the ship said hesitantly, his eyes following something as it glided towards the ships, his hands suddenly slack on the line he was holding. "And it is really big."
Moriarty clapped his hands gleefully, eyes shining with delight as he uncocked his gun and holstered it back at his side, Tiny Tim being drug back to his spot with the others as The Commandant's attention shifted. Sherlock let out a sigh of relief, but before he could give another command with the whistle, it was wrenched from his mouth by Moran. The Assassin turned Naval Officer was smirking brightly, clearly having seen what Sherlock had planned only seconds before, pleased that he'd stopped the great Captain Holmes from pulling the wool over his Captain's own eyes. If anything, the man was infuriatingly loyal to Moriarty, so much so that he took it upon himself to personally watch over Sherlock, at every passing moment.
He tutted his finger.
"Ah, ah, ah, Holmes. I'll have none of that." His deft fingers quickly tucked the whistle somewhere into his inner waistcoat, probably in the pocket meant for a pocket watch, and Moran never took his eyes off Sherlock. "Wouldn't want you spoiling the surprise too early, now would we?"
Sherlock's response was a low growl.
"Come on now, do be a bit proper about all this." Moran continued, his eyes meeting with Moriarty's first before he changed his grip on Sherlock's hair and began hauling him up out of his kneeling position. "The Commandant wants you to have a front row seat for all of this, and you know how he gets when he doesn't get his way."
"Your insubordinate nature is showing again, Sebastian!" Moriarty called jovially over he shoulder, his own eyes pinned to a moving point within the sea, just as the rest of the crew was. He seemed unconcerned with the disheartening comment, but perhaps it was normal among the two senior officers, because none of the crew reacted either. "But do continue! You know how much I enjoy listen to you talk nasty to Sherlock. It gets me all...flustered."
Moriarty laughed heartily, the disgust clear on Sebastian's face for only a moment before the familiar smirk quickly taking back over, clearly surprised at the resounding comment. Sherlock was careful to keep his face controlled, the emotionless mask firmly in place, though even he knew it was starting to fall away in big chunks and his hatred and disgust were bleeding through. Soon it would leave him bare to the world for all to see his pain and anger, but he would fight it as much as he could. He had to fight it as hard as he could. He just had too. John whistled again, louder this time, before some splashing was audible in the sea just below the boat side.
If John was wary of the second, much larger ship tied tight to Sherlock's own ship, he did no show it upon approach. On the contrary, he calmly and effortlessly glided through the water towards the two without hesitation, mindful but not overly hesitant upon seeing unfamiliar faces at ship's railing. It wasn't the first time he'd met knew people on Captain Holmes' ship after all, the wayward Captain had slowly introduced him to his entire crew, but the lack of recognizable crew was causing due unrest in the Merman. A nagging feeling almost, as if something had gotten caught on his fin and he couldn't see it to remove it. But not even that stopped his lazy forwards movements, which is something that everyone in crew on The Westwood was eating up with desperate excitement.
Cries of "It's a devil in a maiden's body!" and more than one cry of some variant to the word "Lovely!" and "Beautiful!" was heard murmured around both decks, Sherlock's crew completely silent and still as the others gaped at what they thought was a Mermaid slowly swimming towards them. In fact, if Captain Holmes had really been looking, he would have noticed a few of the younger crew mates trying to hold back their smirks and snickers at the female descriptions to foreign men were making. Apparently they thought it was hilarious that the other crew was stupid enough to mistake John, clearly a male of the species, for a female while still in the water.
So it wasn't until John had hauled himself up and over the side of the railing and rigging to perch on deck that any of them noticed that "she" had suddenly become a "he" when John faced them fully. His short hair was once more plastered to his stronger facial features and neck, not free-flowing in the gentle movements of the ocean, and presumably they had thought his hair was longer beneath the surface. To Sherlock's internal amusement which flared ever so slightly at their flabbergasted expressions, even Moriarty seemed a bit surprised at the discovery, his eyes wide and his eyebrows nearly seated beneath his plumed hat. He didn't say anything for the longest time either, which Moran apparently took as a bad sign, because he'd stepped away from Sherlock and towards his Captain quickly.
"Commandant?" He asked hesitantly, one eyebrow lifted, but both eyes trained on Moriarty himself. "Sir, is everything alright?"
"Its a man." Came the hesitant reply, in a tone that Sherlock had never heard come from the Commandant's mouth before. It was oddly terrifying to hear, the raspy whisper tinged with disbelief and darkness. "It's not a Mermaid at all, its a bloody man! Why is it not a Mermaid? Why do you not have a Mermaid?"
"It's a Merman, Moriarty, because John is male, obviously. If he were a female, then he would be a Mermaid." Sherlock replied slowly, as if explaining things to an incredibly dull child, his icy eyes glinting in internal humor. "Really, I had thought you would understand the difference between male and female, but seeing as how you only have other men in your company, I can understand the confusion."
Moran turned and backhanded Sherlock with enough force to cause him to plummet back to the deck at his hate-filled taunt, his upper torso making a ridiculous amount of noise on the wood when he landed. But it wasn't the only sound to strike out at the silence that had started to permeate the deck that morning. Along side of Sherlock's own skull cracking against the wood, and the sound the actual slap had made when it met his face, a large hiss and slap of something else that was very heavy broke the air with a sharper thunder-like noise.
From his position, it was hard for Sherlock to see what it was that had also hit the deck, because indeed it was the sound of something hefty hitting the flat surface, but he knew without a doubt that it had been a hiss issued from John that had been the other identifiable sound. A hiss that he knew would bear all the sharpened teeth that John's misleading pink mouth held, the jagged edges of a predator hidden in a guise that would fool even the most observant of men. And sure enough, when he had enough power to once more shift himself over to face John and the rest of the obviously concerned crew, John was poised over on his belly, his arms holding him up as he snarled and raged against the lines that were used as halyards. His dorsal spine was standing ridged, the golden spikes striking in the lazy sun, the arm fins in the same state, his body changing to make himself appear larger. His great tail was furled out behind him, the appendage usually kept close to his body laid out in a display of hostility, the loud slapping noise coming from where he'd struck the deck with the greater part of his massive furled tail.
Truly, John was a sight to behold in all his animalistic rage and aggression, his nature being brought to the forefront when Sherlock -and by extension his crew and Barque- came under threat. If the normally passive Merman didn't know he was in danger before, he most certainly would have to know by now, and he was taking appropriate action in regards to the situation. Because now Moriarty's men were aiming pistols, muskets, and all number of sharp implements in his direction, quickly encompassing him as much as they could with the rigging to his back. It only caused John to snarl harder, his clawed hands scraping at the air in a show that wound probably fend off intruders or other opponents in the sea, but only frightened and enraged the British crew more at every passing second.
Moriarty, apparently having recovered from the shock of John being a male and not the famed female of legends, was happily grinning once more and joining in the fray. He called his crew off only in the slightest of manner, his lithe body making quick work of the distance between the two, John's snarling only increasing in pitch, a sharp sound accompanying his snarling rage. The Commandant hardly looked threatened, though it was probably due to all the men flanking him with weapons, as he approached John slowly, hands up, a horrifying smile painting its way across his features, like some manic lizard.
"Oh, you are beautiful, aren't you? Even if you aren't exactly what I thought you'd be..." He said confidently, as if whatever panic attack he had earlier had never even happened, his voice sugary sweet and as false as a peg leg. "But it doesn't really change anything. No, not when I have something as precious as you. And you are precious."
John just starred at Moriarty in frustration, blue eyes trained specifically on the well-dressed figure that stood only inches from him now, close enough for him to reach out and take a good swipe at. He wasn't growling so much anymore, the snarling reduced as confusion seemed to rapidly seep in and take its place. It was a particular look that Sherlock had seen on his face more than once in these past months, the small tilt of his head and the misunderstanding flitting across his face tell-tale signs that he didn't fully understand what was going on around him, but that he wanted to know.
The deep-throated melody only added to the pain Sherlock was feeling at his betrayal.
Even more when the Commandant reached out to stroke the top of John's damp head like he'd done it a thousand times before, the Merman leaning into the stroke minutely after a few long seconds before moving back to stare around him in confusion. His trilling had increased in volume until he was practically singing, his tail slapping once, then twice against the deck in irritation and frustrated confusion, tinged with pleasure. Moriarty just grinned down at him as he kept petting the Mer's hair, holding a laugh at how complacent he'd become all of a sudden once tactile sensations had been granted too him. John just seemed happy to be touched by someone he assumed knew Sherlock.
"He's quite the looker, Sherlock, and has quite the voice. I was jealous before, but now..." Moriarty took a deep breath as he grabbed a tight fistful of John's hair as suddenly as he had started petting him, practically dragging him further along the deck, even though the much stronger beast was fighting it the whole time. "And strong, oh goodness he's strong! So primal Sherlock, and such a fighter. You always were after the odd ones."
"They were probably never this lively though, Commandant." Moran said with a sickening smirk as he came forward with the large net he'd brought along earlier, along with a few other men, to help wrestle the once again snarling and snapping sea creature, claws shredding and slicing at cloth and flesh as they roped him down. "Or this...fishy. But don't worry, I'm sure we can fix that. The lively part, I mean."
Moriarty laughed loudly as he stepped back, wiping his hands on a handkerchief that another member of his crew handed him before inspecting the scene before him. Moran was still wrestling with another three crewman, still trying to get the thrashing John to hold still long enough to net fully. It was a swiftly losing battle for John though, no matter how hard he fought, he just wasn't strong enough to upset four grown men, especially on solid surfaces and not in the water. His tail was floundering more than it was aiding, and his sensitive gills were being poked and abraded by rough rope and even rougher hands.
The painful crying damn near broke Sherlock's shriveled heart.
Once free of his obligation to wrestle the now captured Merman, Moran came at him with his rapier, intent clear upon his face. He was planning on gutting Sherlock in the slowest manner possible, Sherlock could read it so clearly in his deranged and blood thirsty eyes. He wanted Captain Holmes dead and gone, but not before he'd suffered, truly suffered, a slow and painful death while John and the entirety of his crew and enemies watched on. Moran only continued to smile as he raised his weapon high, the blow and intention clear to all. Not even his screaming crew and crying, bound Merman friend could save him now. After all, he deserved this death.
But one man still held the power.
"No, don't kill him. I have a game I want him to play yet, Sebastian." Moriarty said, the only thing stilling Moran's armed hand before he could deal the blow to Sherlock. Sherlock didn't know whether to be grateful or disgusted with himself as Moriarty knelt down to whisper in his ear. "You have three days Sherlock, to save your precious pet fish. If you don't get to him by dawn on the third day, I will eat him in order to gain immortality. Because I know the lore of the Merfolk, and by consuming one, I gain their very long lives."
"You would only gain an unnatural presence to go with your unnatural soul, if you even have one. Which I doubt." Sherlock's tone was bland and even, he wouldn't give Jim the satisfaction of letting him know he was scared. "Your outsides will finally be matching your twisted, rotting insides. All who come across you will know just how twisted and sick you really are."
Jim's smile turned downwards into a frown as he stood back up and walked to the railing along which the plank connecting the two ships met, his eyes ablaze with hatred. John was being held tightly at his side by the three obeying crewmen, his head whipping frantically as Moriarty reached for another tight fist full of his hair and necklaces, his eyes still boring into Sherlock's own. The Merman gave another shrill cry as Moriarty pulled so that his startled, turmoil-filled blue eyes met Sherlock's own icy ones. The pain Captain Holmes could see was enough to stop any other nasty retorts from making their way past his lips.
"Put the creature in the hold, along with the rest of the crew. Leave Captain Holmes here tied to the mast in both chains and ropes." Moriarty commanded, stroking the snarling Merman's face through the net once he'd gotten a good grip, their eye contact breaking. John was crying and snarling with enough rage to distort his beautiful features, but that didn't seem to concern the Commandant anymore than hearing his fleet were under attack. "And then sink the ship."