To Protect And Serve

by Cody Thomas

Sherlock is a young godling coming into his power too early. John is eventually destined to be his true devout. But they meet before they should and Sherlock claims him anyway. John doesn't know what's going on, let alone the damage it can do to a young god with no other followers, for them to claim you, and then for you to lose your faith.

2. Chapter 2

To Protect And Serve

Chapter Summary: First meetings don't go as well as they could have.

Warnings: Injuries, some medical content

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John Watson had never been to an island before, in fact his parents had never really been able to afford to take him and Harry on a really nice vacation anywhere before. His parents were doing their second honeymoon and they actually rented two adjoining beach houses so they could have their privacy. Harry had her friend from school along to do things with, which according to her was a lot of sitting around on the beach, but none of his own friends had been able to afford to come, so John was allowed to go off on his own. John loved it, he was so excited that he barely wanted to sleep when they had gotten in late yesterday evening, he wanted to explore every inch of the island, get to know it top to bottom and he only had a week and a half to do it. He had a few full day hikes planned and even a couple of overnight expeditions as well.

He clipped his twenty mile range walkie talkie to his rucksack shoulder loop after making sure it was tuned to the right frequency and working, double checked to make sure he had all of his gear, his camelbak filled, terrain and trail map, fully stocked first aid/ emergency/ survival/ and poison kit, climbing gear, camping/cooking set, wet gear, fire starter, lights with extra batteries, tool kit, information and entertainment packet. Then of course trail and meal rations, blanket, towel, and extra clothes, all in waterproof baggies. He had his binoculars, the smallest handheld camcorder on the market, Swiss Army multi tool, animal repellent, survival saw, compass, and watch on his belt, and his walking stick. It was a much heavier pack than he needed, but that was the point. He was trying to get used to carrying a heavier pack so that he and his dad could go on much longer hikes together. They had plans to try and do the full Appalachian Trail when John graduated second form. He'd done scouts since he was four, and his dad was a Royal Marine Commando who was really big on camping and survival stuff, so John knew how to do everything he needed to on his own.

"I'm off out! I should be back before full dark, check ins on the hour, starting true east from base, then into north by northwest in a looping crescent on the way back to keep the radius true. I'll call if I decide to go far or want to do rougher terrain. Bye!"

"John wait! Your father and I have a present for you." His mother said.

John's dad held out a black box. "We're very proud of you for getting your first aid and CPR certifications, and your grades this year were excellent too. Keep up the good work son, we know you'll be responsible with this, and remember that it's a tool, not a toy."

Johns eyes widened as he opened the box. It was a real tactical survival knife, the blade was high carbon stainless steel, seven inches long, bowie style with a saw blade on the back edge, the black handle had a rope/ belt cutting notch, the pommel had a glass breaking tool, and the sheath had belt loops and a strap so you could wear it on your leg too. "Whoa." he stood there for several moments just admiring every bit of the beautiful blade. It was hefty, but not too heavy even though he wasn't full grown yet. A blade that he could grow with, a blade that would help him get stronger. It was perfect.

"There's also a small survival kit in the handle. Take good care of yourself, John. We think you've proven yourself responsible enough to have a real knife on your own, don't let us be wrong alright?"

John nodded sagely. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome, now go have fun, we'll hear from you soon."

He hugged his parents and strapped the sheath onto his belt before heading out the door.

The island was roughly oval shaped and about ten miles end to end and five miles across, however the actual amount of land was more than triple that due to most of the island having mountainous hills and a huge inactive volcano on the eastern side towards the middle, and they were on the western side of the island. The climate was sub tropic with rainforest all around. John set off to explore.

Sherlock had kept very close to his Bisnonna when he had to be out and about with his relatives on whatever pointless tour, attraction, or outing they'd had planned for the past two days, and now it was going to be an entire two week long convention of relatives he had to look forward to from all over the globe and other places beyond. He also absolutely HATED the fact they were almost all in disguises or going by false names or titles, and only for the benefit of the mortals at that.

But he could barely focus on that, since this morning he kept feeling a pull inside of him, a deep desire to go to the other side of the island. He felt itchy in his skin and sitting still was almost unbearable to him. There was something he had to see on the other side of the island, something for him, and he had to get to it.

It was 8 hours before the party, and Sherlock Holmes decided to run away. It wouldn't be easy to avoid or lose Mycroft, who had been set to mind him while everyone else was busy getting ready for the big celebration that night. They were at the big hotel, and everyone was rushing around, ordering around huge amounts of staff or just doing the work themselves. Mycroft wasn't very fast, and he wasn't good at running or climbing, where as Sherlock was very good at both. Now he just needed to make sure that Mycroft couldn't quickly summon others to catch him. They weren't dressed in best clothes yet, so all he had to make sure of was not to hurt his hands, Mummy would get very cross if he was caught and then couldn't play the Violin. He wouldn't be gone too long, two or three hours maybe, he just needed to get to the other side of the island and discover what was waiting for him to find it. He'd be polite, it was rare for him, but he had been told to be on his best behavior, so Mycroft would take it as that. He tugged on Mycroft's trouser leg.

John wasn't sticking exactly to the path he had been wanting to, mostly because the closer he got towards the volcano, the more he just wanted to walk straight over to it. After the fourth time he found himself readjusting his position, he finally gave it up as his intuition trying to have him either avoid trouble or come into contact with something. He clicked the walkie talkie.

"John Watson checking in with Base, please respond Base."

"This is Base, everything going well John?"

"Just fine, need to confirm a change of route. Current location is a line distance of approximately 4.68 miles, walking distance of 6.2 miles due East from Base at an altitude of 440 feet, at a location listed as Devil's Snare, to be heading directly north by northeast towards the southwestern slope of the volcano. I am officially off path and following land slope not direct line for ease of movement, but am under canopy so daylight is impeded, how's the weather holding up? Over."

"Clear and calm for now, and there should be approximately 3.5 hours of fully visible daylight under the canopy left. Base sunset is at 7:42 PM with full dark by 8:34. Confirming projected path is from Devil's Snare to southwest slope of the volcano, at a line distance of roughly 2 miles for a combined line distance of 6.7 miles away, copy?"

"That is correct Base, path should be more steep and hilly than current path has been, but not overly advanced terrain. Estimated combined walking distance out from Base due to terrain is 9.75 miles total. Over."

"Then you have a go to change of route, as long as you take marked paths back. Volcano Ridge Trail is the most direct way back. You will be arriving after dark. Over."

"Copy to that Base, returning via Volcano Ridge Walking Trail with a marked distance of 7.25 miles from volcano meet up to trail head, and another .75 miles from trailhead to Base for a total walking trip of 17.75 miles. Return time projected at around 9:50 PM unless I get too tired, in which case I will make camp after nightfall. Overnight gear is present. Current time is 3:37 PM, next check in will be at 4:15 PM. Over."

"Copy that. Verify camp setup or return upon arrival at the volcano. Base over and out."

"Copy. John Watson over and out."

Mycroft turned to his little brother when he felt a tug on his trousers. "Yes?"

"I have to get out. I don't want to be in trouble, and I'll be mean if I stay, so can we go?"

Mycroft looked down at him, it was polite for Sherlock, and the boy had been irritable and antsy all day. It was rare for Sherlock to be polite unless he really wanted something, though.

"And where would you like to go?"

"I don't care, anywhere that isn't here or so crowded with stupid and pointless moronic-" he paused and took a couple of very deep breaths, just barely controlling his almost legendary temper. "Aren't there walking trails around the hotel? Or we could even go back to the house, I don't care. But we aren't needed here, so what's the point of us staying in the way? And if one more person almost steps on me I'm going to kick them in the shins hard as I can and I don't care if they are relatives or not!"

Mycroft almost chuckled, but Sherlock was right, they were just in the way here, and Sherlock was doing his best to try and behave, they had told him before to ask for help if he was about to lose his temper somewhere in public so they could try and get him away. It wouldn't be good to ignore him when he had finally asked for that help.

"Alright, let's just tell Mummy and Dad we are going so that they don't worry. Come on, take my hand, I don't want to lose you in this crowd."

Their parents were soon found in the main dining room and informed that they would be taking a walk and then probably returning to the beach house for awhile. They would see them there when they came back to change for the party and then all come back together. Course set, he took his little brother's hand and led him out of the hotel. They did walk for about half an hour behind the hotel, it was easy trails, nothing too strenuous, meant for pleasure walking. There were other trails he knew, ones that required scrambling up rocks or even ropes and equipment once you got onto the volcano proper. But even this gentle curving slope was not much to Mycroft's tastes, he wasn't a huge fan of exercise, but knew it was good for him, if only so he could try and keep up with Sherlock. The boy had brightened the moment they had started heading away from the hotel, and now he was enthusiastically tugging on Mycroft's hand trying to get him to go faster. Mycroft released him so that he could explore a bit more.

"Stay close, and don't wander too far."

Sherlock examined a leaf. "Mycroft, what's it mean, when your skin feels too tight and itchy, and you feel like you are being pulled somewhere but you don't know why?"

Mycroft startled, Sherlock was feeling The Pull already? Here? He was too young! He didn't even have any kind of manifestation yet, he had to get Sherlock out of here, they couldn't meet, not yet, it was too soon, it could hurt Sherlock badly if he was rejected. "Where are you feeling pulled towards?" Not the beach house, not the beach house, if he could get him there, he could contain him, make sure this didn't happen. His parents wouldn't forgive him if Sherlock become Heartsore because of rejection to someone who couldn't possibly understand.

"Earlier it was the other side of the island, but now it's the volcano. Why? What's it mean? Is the Heart of the Island trying to say hello?"

Mycroft blanched, they were heading straight towards the volcano. Time to lie. "I doubt it, the volcano isn't awake. Not all of our kin pay attention to bloodlines you know, the elementals for instance often try to draw young people away to eat them, and a godling would make them quite strong. The fae folk are well known for their kidnapping tendencies, and even though this isn't their territory they could be drawn towards such a large collection of power. Come on, let's go back to the beach house, it's not safe here."

But the second he took Sherlock's hand the boy drew back with a cry as if burned. Sherlock stared at his hand, then at Mycroft's face. His look turned hard, and his Aspect came upon him.

"You're lying. I know that you are lying. I am Truth, and Discovery, and you dare lie to my face?!"

SHIT. No wonder Sherlock had been so surly this trip! He was manifesting, at half the age for it. Mycroft couldn't do this alone, he needed help, NOW. His own manifestation was just barely beginning to show signs of coming around, he had no way to control Sherlock, he had to get him back to the others.

"Sherlock, Sherlock, listen to me, I'm sorry I lied. I was just worried about you. I know how you like to run straight into trouble if it seems interesting enough. There is something calling you, but it's not the right time to find it, it can be far too dangerous for you right now. It can hurt you, you are much too young and your aspect is manifesting. We have to go Sherlock, now. I can't help you on my own, we have to get you to Mummy and Dad and Bisnonna . They can help you. We have to go, now."

"What. Is. Calling. Me?"

He couldn't lie, if he lied, Sherlock would never trust him to go back. He was a barely manifesting politician, alone with a very powerful godling of Truths that he had to manipulate back into safety away from one of his very strong future followers with words alone, because he couldn't overpower him. He couldn't even touch him. Could this situation GET any worse?

"If I tell you what it is, will you PROMISE to come back with me? I want your solemn Vow, God of Truths, to only take the knowledge and no action at this time."

The blow took him completely off guard and he went flying clean off his feet and landed in the dirt barely able to breathe.

"I make no pacts with Liars and Manipulators, Oh Silver Tongued Truth Twister. You shall get no bargains from me." And with that Sherlock ran into the jungle and disappeared.

Mycroft tried to regain his breath, then picked himself up and ran back towards the hotel. They were going to be at odds with each other, he could already see it. They would never be close again. Sherlock would never take his hand, or curl up in his lap for a story, or drag him off to show him the latest interesting thing he had found ever again. Their aspects couldn't be more at a crossroads to each other. His beloved baby brother was gone, never to return. Sherlock was an Absolute, just as he had feared. Truth, and Discovery of that Truth. He would have to move out, possibly in with their uncle so that Sherlock could stay with their parents, he was too young to be on his own. His parents hearts were going to be broken at the rift this would cause in their family... This was going to be an absolute nightmare.

The way wasn't easy, but that was expected, Sherlock went deeper into the trees, not following any path, only knowing that something of his wanted him, and he was obliged to follow and claim it. So he continued, following that pull, allowing it to draw him true, paying no mind to anything else. He felt them, deep in his heart he felt them and suddenly knew it was a person. His eyes went wide and he nearly tripped after the realization. A person that was drawing him near, could only mean one of two things, one who would follow his way, or one who was destined to be with him forever. He ran faster.

John made good time towards the volcano, he found a pretty easy naturally occurring path that led him nearly straight there. He had two more hills to climb once he found a way to get across this river, but should be there rather soon if the path stayed easy. He tied a stone to a rope to test the depth, and started looking for any large stones, shallows, or a fallen tree across.

Mycroft made it back to the hotel, not caring the looks he got, covered in dirt and disheveled and near blowing from trying to run. He had a stitch in both sides, but ignored it as he searched for any familiar face who might help him. The first relative he recognized was his aunt. " Minerva Most Wise and Revered! "

She spun, shocked someone had used an Epiteth in a near public place, but when she saw Mycroft she rushed over.

"Mycroft, what's wrong?"

"Sherlock, he's Manifested. He's an Absolute, and either his Consort or True Devout is somewhere on the island. He's been feeling The Pull and ran off towards the volcano to find them! Help me, please!"

"Daphne, find his parents, Artemis, bring the hunters together, we have to track him down fast. Mycroft, tell me exactly what he's manifesting as."

"He said he was Truth and Discovery. I wouldn't let any Trickster aspect near him. He touched me and immediately knew I wasn't being honest about why we had to go back and it infuriated him. He was strong enough to send me flying off my feet. He's too young! If he's rejected now... oh gods, please help us."

"We will, I promise. Has anyone seen Bisnonna Gaia, or perhaps Pele? If he's gone to the volcano she may be able to Travel there even though it isn't her own. And someone find an Absolute to come along who will be able to touch him. Death or Love preferably."

Those few minutes seemed like an eternity, but his relatives bustled him into a chair and handed him a cool cup of water. His parents were in a right panic when they got there.

"Mycroft are you sure he didn't just lose his temper, you know how he gets-" Mycroft cut his mother off with a shake of his head.

"His voice changed, he became formal, his Aspect revealed itself and he addressed me by epiteth only, he also overpowered me, and asked me what it meant to feel like he was being drawn towards the center of the island. I'm sorry, I didn't recognize the signs earlier, I would have never gone off with him alone if I knew he was being Pulled, I'm so sorry."

His father placed a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing to apologize for, you couldn't have known, he's supposed to be far too young, not like that has ever stopped him before, and we all know how easy it is for him to outsmart us when he has a mind to do so. If I didn't know he was mine, I'd believe he was a scion of Hermes. All we can do now is hope the Hunt finds him before he finds whoever he's being Pulled towards."

A rams horn sounded, echoing through the building and every person present. It rolled and rumbled like thunder, resonating to a place deep inside all of them, the dark aspect most had well in hand for the most part, calling them to seek and search and catch whatever wished to allude them.

A troop of twelve terrifying deities came from all ends, barely holding to their human aspects, flickering between the two, apparitions of the truth overlaid on top of their mundane personas, shadows of their true forms were cast upon the walls now that they had been Called, apparitions of hawks, eagles, owls, and falcons flew overhead or perched upon the shoulders or arms of their masters. Wolves and hounds skulked at the sides of others, small silly lap dogs on leashes had fierce looks and burning eyes, their shadows those of creatures much larger. There were even horses. They may not be on an official hunt, but Deity help any mortal who got in a Wild Hunt's way.

Sherlock knew they were near, he could feel that he was headed straight towards them and they were headed straight towards him.

" COME TO ME. YES! If you are able, I call to you, you are mine. Find me, join me. I want you, you are claimed, my answer is yes. I will be your Purpose, your Truth, I will be your Path. You will never be lost with the light of my Truth to guide you. COME TO ME ."

He was small and light footed, he darted through the thickest of the undergrowth, where no horse or full grown person could follow. He knew who they would send, but he wasn't going back without his devotee. He was finally past the volcano, the spirit of it had no True Voice, the people of this island were either too few to awaken it or nearly completely gone. Either a story untold to potential now lost, or a sad end to something rather young in the scheme of things. The same would not happen to him, he would be strong, he would be great, so young and already he had one willing to follow him!

John couldn't explain his sudden desire to hurry, but he nearly tripped headfirst into the river at the halfway point. A collection of fallen branches and a still live tree had caught on some larger submerged rocks and John was carefully picking his way across them to the other side when he had the sudden urge to run. Run forward and across and deep into the forest again as if something were chasing him. He fought down his immediate instincts and continued across carefully, looking around for anything that could be giving him that feeling.

He made it over and dashed up the hill on the shore, always best to be on high and even ground if trouble was coming, but there was nothing, no animals, no people, not a cloud in the sky, what was even more odd was the fact that he seemed to be drawn even further towards whatever was making him feel that way. 'Danger!' was an instinct he normally heeded at all costs, so if it wasn't that, then what was making his heart pound in his chest, what was driving him forward as irresistibly as a moth to a flame? He had to find out, and started making his way down.

Unfortunately Sherlock was not very familiar with wild nature or paths that were not smooth, so he wasn't expecting it when the ground gave way beneath him, pitching him down an embankment he couldn't have seen because of the thick foliage, tumbling down and finally landing with a sickening 'crunch' on the rocks at the bottom. Sherlock screamed. The Aspect retreated, his Power and Manifestation were completely forgotten in the face of the extreme pain. He looked down and barely managed to turn enough on the boulder he was on before he got sick over the side of it. He definitely wouldn't be walking on that leg. The sides of the ravine were very steep and made of loose soil. There was no way for him to get out on his own, and no way to continue his search. The Hunt would find him, take him back and confine him, keep him away from the soul that was his because they thought him too young to have it. Sherlock began to cry. He'd failed, he'd come so close to meeting them and he had failed.

From somewhere in front of him, somewhere very close, John heard a scream. He started running towards the sound. It was maybe five minutes before John got down the one hill and up the next. Peeking over the edge he could see a child of about six laying on some rocks sobbing, with a leg that was obviously broken. He wasn't calling for help, so there probably wasn't anyone nearby. The sides of the ravine were loose, and not good for going down or getting out. He knelt down and went for his climbing gear from his pack.

"Hey there, it's going to be okay, I'm going to get you out, you just have to sit tight for a few minutes okay? What's your name?"

The boy was just staring at him like he had never seen another human being before in his life. John really hoped he hadn't hit his head. He threw a loop over a thick overhanging branch, and secured it to the trunk of the tree, he'd have to harness and lever him out of there.

"You understand me? It's going to be okay. What's your name?"

"Sh- Sherlock."

"Hi Sherlock. Did you hurt anything besides your leg? Can you feel and wiggle your other fingers and toes?"

Sherlock nodded. He was probably going into shock.

"They're hunting me, they're going to catch my scent soon. You have to get out of here, they'll tear you to pieces!"

"They, who's they?" He was answered by a howl, and then a second, and a third.

"That's 'they'. Most likely Wolves."

Wolves? What in the hell were wolves doing out here on a tropical island? It was so not their climate it was pretty much ridiculous. There was a fourth one sounding closer than the others, and John had to admit, it very much sounded like a wolf. Not good. They wouldn't have time to really do first aide, he needed to get them high up a tree and fast. He looked around, but the one closest to Sherlock seemed their best bet.

John put on the harness, untied the knots he'd been starting at the base, and climbed the trunk to secure the line much higher up, where it couldn't be easily reached by whatever wild dogs seemed to be coming. He secured his pack on a branch, put on the carabiners, moved down a branch so he would have a good place to land when he came back up, and made sure there was plenty of slack to secure Sherlock to him along with another length to be sure.

"Okay Sherlock I'm going to lower myself down there, and tie you to my back. I know your leg hurts, but once I get you up here I can treat that leg and give you some pain killers."

Sherlock nodded and John eased himself down into the ravine as fast as he felt safe doing. He barely landed before he was next to the younger boy, quick assessment showed nothing else immediately broken, only a few superficial cuts on his arms and legs.

"Okay Sherlock, this is going to hurt but I need you to trust me alright?"

"What's your name?"

That threw him for half a second before he realized he hadn't said. "John. John Watson. I'm going to get you somewhere safe okay? You going to trust me?"

Sherlock nodded and held out his arms, John spared him a moment for a brief hug, he would have been petrified and needing a hug for reassurance too.

"It's going to be alright." John said with a smile.

John looped and tied the extra cord of rope he'd brought around Sherlock's waist and legs into a quick but functional harness, and made sure it was secure and not cutting off circulation. He attached a carabiner and a secondary lead which he attached to the back of his harness.

"Alright I need you to hold onto my back just like for a piggy back ride, and I'm going to tie this rope around us so I don't lose you if you accidentally let go. Your leg is going to move, and it will hurt a lot as we climb, but try not to scream okay? We don't want to draw their attention. I want you to take a great big bite out of my shirt instead of screaming if you have to."

Sherlock nodded and clung to John and sobbed into his shoulder as John pulled him up off the rocks.

"It's alright, you're doing fine Sherlock. Come on, let's get out of here."

John could hear the dogs or wolves getting closer, they were running out of time. He latched the main rope back into his harness and secured Sherlock tightly to his back, then climbed just about nine feet up before he tied off, pulled up all of the additional slack, took out two portable pressurized canisters, a pair of gloves, and a paper bag wrapped in three plastic baggies.

"Tuck up this leg as high as you can, hold onto this rope, keep your eyes closed tight, breathe only through your shirt, and don't touch. You don't want this stuff getting near anything sensitive, trust me."

John put on the latex gloves, and started spraying. One canister was high powered bear mace, strongest on the market, the other was a natural deterrent of synthesized skunk spray, and he thoroughly scent bombed the path and rocks with them, more than plenty to cover them for a few hours, then withdrew two cartridges that looked like larger metal versions of party poppers and ejected them directly over the rocks the kid had been laying on, dusting the whole area with a liberal coating of his dad's custom blend of 'ultimate tracking animal destroyer' which was super finely powdered Trinidad Moruga Scorpion chili seeds mixed with a bit of pure capsaicin, more than a deterrent for any mammal hunting them, in fact practically guaranteed to disable any dogs tracking abilities entirely for a full day or more.

He tucked everything back into the yellow case on his belt and began the rest of the long, free rope climb up into the tree. Luckily the kid barely weighed more than his pack. Another minute and they were safely in the tree with two of the larger branches below them to help hide them from view. He settled Sherlock in a very sturdy crook of the tree, pulled up the slack and bent the branches around them a bit so they couldn't easily be seen from below. He took out his camera, set it to record and peeked it through the leaves just enough to view the site. He needed to see what kind of wild dogs were in the middle of a rainforest.

Only a minute or so later a large pack of about ten wolves, all different breeds, came into the clearing, searching for their trail and going straight for the rocks he had pepper bombed. Just as all but one of them got a good snout full of either mace or chili powder and began whimpering and crying in pain, trying to paw it off but only adding more since their paws now had trailed through the chemicals and powder too, he blew hard into his ultrasonic dog repellant whistle, sending the lookout running away, and their companions desperate to follow him.

"There. That should take care of them until I can get you back where you belong."

The boy shook his head and whimpered, "No, it will only make their owners angry and more determined, they don't like being outsmarted, not at all. They won't be far behind."

"Owners? You're telling me those things were tame and you've got people hunting you?"

"Not tame, trained, and yes, they are people. They are a very determined group once they are hunting, usually cutting down anything in their path. They are called the Wild Hunt. Not that I'm not eternally grateful to see you, but they'll be after you once they find your trail."

John heaved out a deep sigh. "I thought this crap was only supposed to happen in the movies."

He pulled out the forest camouflage blanket and moved up another level to the Y where the branches of the crown left the trunk. It was wide and flat enough to hide Sherlock. He got him up the next level and laid him down on the piled up leaf litter then had Sherlock curl up as best he could around his pack before covering him with the blanket. He anchored Sherlock to the branch, then John took his new knife and cut several small branches and tucked them around and over the boy. He grabbed the walkie talkie from the pack and then fished the spare out of a side slot, tuned and set it but left it off. He stuffed some rations in his cargo pants pockets just in case.

"Alright, I'm going to pull up all of the ropes, and then hide, but if they spot me, I'm going to run so they don't find you. Don't worry I'll be fine, but if that happens I want you to stay absolutely silent until they are gone for five minutes, and then turn this on and push this button three times fast, three times slow, three times fast over and over for about a minute. You hold this button down to talk. My dad is on the other end. Ask him for help and tell him which way I ran. That's North, that's South, East, and West. My best bet is the river so that's probably where I'd go. Stay right here, do not leave this spot, this is the safest you could possibly be. Tell him you are a tenth of a mile from the river, half a mile from the marked destination, second ravine inland, and exactly what happened. The pack is fully stocked and can last about six days if needed, but he's only a few hours away so you'll be fine until he finds you. Remember, silence is your best defense right now. I'll be back."

John climbed down and untied all of his ropes and hauled them up, then cut some larger branches and covered himself as best he could as he lay along the most sheltered point he could find, and even lucked out enough to have vines and hanging moss near at hand to drape across himself as well. He still had his camera and he trained it on the clearing. Maybe he could catch their faces so the police could locate these Wild Hunt people easier.

He turned the volume on his walkie talkie all the way down but not off then typed out. SOS JW SOS RICO asking his dad to Respond In Code Only. It was only seconds later before he got a reply and gave an extremely abbreviated account of the situation. HURT BOY HUNTED HID SOS.

Hoofbeats began thudding through the underbrush. He typed out RS in request for radio silence and turned off the walkie talkie just in case. He trained the camera on the opening, hit record and tried to be as still as he could possibly be. moments later riders trotted through. John didn't want to believe what he was seeing. Spears, bows and arrows, armour , some men had even donned stag antlers and pelts on their heads. It looked like a hunting party that had escaped from a renaissance faire.

"Trail's fresh, he passed this way not two hours ago." said a very large man in the front.

"No, he fell this way not a half hour ago, look at the outlip, it's still crumbling." Said a woman with a bow.

"He got sick after he fell, must have really knocked the wind out of him. No real blood so I doubt he got injured too badly." Said the man with the largest antlers on his head.

"The dogs won't come back through here, they're howling like they're dying, I don't know what's wrong." Called a man coming up from the rear.

"Well I smell skunk, but that's not enough to cause that reaction, and what's a skunk even doing on this island?" Asked a man with a hooded falcon on his arm.

The first woman's horse got too close to the rocks and got hit with the chili powder in one nostril when his muzzle brushed against it. The reaction was violent and immediate. The gelding threw her off and went wild, nearly trampling her in the process. She rolled away right into the thickest part of the chemical trap and within seconds was also in agonizing pain and half blinded when she went to wipe the wet muck off her face. "SHIT! Get back! The area's booby trapped! FUCK what the hell is this stuff? ARGH it burns! Get me some water, and catch the horse before he breaks a leg on these rocks!"

John almost snorted. Water wouldn't do shit except to spread it. You needed soap or oil to bind the capsaicin to it, but he figured anyone cruel enough to hunt people for sport deserved to suffer a bit.

"He wouldn't have had anything on him to do this, he's found help." The man with the falcon said.

"Not just help Lelantos, he found his Pull. I'm going to kill that kid when I find him, and I'm going to gut whoever helped him for whatever this shit is and turn their hide into a wine skin! Fuck!"

"It feels like ground pepper seeds once you get past the skunk smell, probably an animal repellent, and if it's affecting you this much, it's definitely what took out the dogs."

"That means a hunter or a camper, and there is nothing else worth hunting around here, so start checking clearings for tents, there must be a campground nearby." The man with the slightly smaller horns stated.

The large man found where John had come from. "Found a trail over here, ground isn't soft enough for prints, but it seems to go towards the river. It will be dark soon and there's no moon tonight, we'll be useless after dark, and can't use fire or we'll draw too much attention, so we have to find them quickly or try again tomorrow. We have to backtrack a ways to get out of the ravine though, the ground's too loose for the horses. Cernunnos, take the ridge with Lelantos and help see if we can track them. The rest of us will split up, half on either side with the horses and follow the ravine out and circle the banks. Pan, find out if they crossed over the river and if so how long ago. Artemis, you want to continue or head back?"

The woman who had gotten caught in the trap growled. "I'll head back with my horse and the dogs. They're less than useless now, and would only alert the brat, and I need to get this stuff off of us. If it's pepper seeds I need milk and oil. If he's been picked up by an adult then they are most likely going to try and contact the police or return him to his parents as fast as they can, which is all the better for us, I can put the guards on watch."

"I'll come with you to make sure there's no more problems. Don't worry, Death will find him soon enough." said the man who had joined them later.

The woman growled. "Let's hope so Nodens, because if Death doesn't find him, I will, and I will not be nearly so merciful."

John breathed a huge sigh of relief as they picked up and moved on. He made sure every last one of them was completely gone before turning off the camera, collecting the moss, vines, and branches that were covering him, and climbing back up towards Sherlock. They were SO camping in the tree tonight.

Sherlock had been stunned. Just when he had given up, the one who had been calling him had found him, and he was beautiful and strong and perfect. Could John be his Devoted and his Consort? Was that allowed? Because he wanted every single part of John to belong to him and no one else. He had already decided he wouldn't share John with other deities either, he was for Sherlock alone. There was so much care and strength in John, and cleverness! He was so very clever with the way he had taken care of the hunting dogs. They were right there and they were too confused to find them. Oh it was easy to admit that he was smitten, even with the pain in his leg it didn't really matter because John, John was here now, he was with him and they wouldn't be parted ever again.

He had feared for John so much when he said he might run to keep him safe, he didn't know how to explain the Wild Hunt were only there to fetch him, it's John who would be in danger from them if caught. But his tongue was stuck, the pain in his leg was awful, he felt like he might be sick again, his power kept fluctuating back and forth inside him, and he couldn't focus on anything properly. The whole thing was an infuriating mess. This was his first time with John and there were too many things ruining it for them!

He peeked just a bit from under the blanket as the Wild Hunt gathered right below their tree. John could have dropped something straight on Artemis' head if he had wanted to. Sherlock longed for a big, hairy spider. He was angry at them, and scared they would notice John, and he was in pain, he felt bruised all over. It was the funniest thing he had seen when Artemis got thrown from her horse and fell into John's trap. His John. Oh it felt wonderful to have those two words side by side in his head, he wanted to say 'My John' out loud, and he would, soon.

It seemed a small eternity until John made his way back up. Sherlock couldn't help himself, he wrapped his arms around John and just held him, he'd been so scared, and John had been so brave. He had to get stronger, so much stronger, so that he could protect John instead. He wanted to be a deity that John would be proud to follow, and never want another.

He watched closely as John started talking to his dad on the walkie talkie, memorizing his face, the color of his eyes, the texture of his skin, the shade of his hair. He wanted to know everything about him, the full Truth of John Watson.

It took awhile before he realized that John was setting up to do what he could for his leg. Honestly Sherlock was more curious on why they didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave the tree. Surely there were safer and sturdier places to try and do this, and wouldn't it be easier to find them if the Hunt came back looking for more tracks? But John seemed very confident and calm, he knew what he was doing and Sherlock instinctively trusted that because John wasn't the type to lie. He bit hard into the rolled up towel that muffled his scream as John, without any hesitation whatsoever, lined up and set the bone in his leg as if he had done it a hundred times before. Johns' hands were gentle as he splinted his leg, put an instant ice pack over the spot where the bone must have broken, and gave him, not a pain pill to swallow, but an actual shot in the arm that started working immediately.

"How do you know how to do all this stuff?" Sherlock asked, curious and impressed and intrigued all at once.

"I want to be a doctor when I grow up. My dad's a Combat Medic in the Royal Marines, and he loves camping and survival training, says it makes people think better and get creative on how to use things in ways they hadn't thought of before. He also wants to make sure I can take care of my mom and sister in case something happens to him while he's on deployment. He's been teaching me since I was three, when he let me start putting the plasters on my own cuts after he cleaned them. My little sister is diabetic and she can't stand doing her shots or her blood tests, but she trusts me, so dad taught me how to do them so I could help her till she's bigger. I just got my first aid and CPR certifications last month, and I'm going for the first responder one in a couple of months, that will teach me to use defibrillators and advanced first aide, and Dad's going to teach me how to do blood draws by the end of summer."

"How old are you?"

"Eleven. I'll be twelve next month. How about you?"

"Six and a half. My birthday is January 6th."

"July 7th. Our birthdays are exactly six months apart."

"I feel really sleepy."

"That's the morphine, dad told me how much to give you, he'll be here in a few hours, less if he gets a ride to the trail head. Here, you should get some water and food on your stomach, you were sick earlier and morphine can be very strong. You'll probably fall asleep soon because of the pain killer, so it's best to eat now."

It took Sherlock a few tries before managing to drink from the funny shaped bite tube on John's rucksack that held the water, but he eventually managed it. John gave him granola bars, nuts, and one of his two bologna sandwiches. His first offering, and Sherlock accepted it with a very big grin. John said if he'd been able to make a fire they could have had cooked food, but they had to stay invisible. Sherlock didn't mind. After they finished the food, John unrolled a flat, black, plastic thing on the area they had been huddled in up in the tree, and moved Sherlock into the center of it. He was impressed when it became a shallow walled inflatable raft a minute later after John attached a small electric pump to it. John disguised the sides well with branches and vines and moss, then covered and tied a tarp over top of it to make a shelter. It became downright cosy as John tucked him into a long sleeved thermal shirt from his pack before pulling the bottoms and a jumper on for himself. He then stowed the pack at the end of the raft and climbed in, tucking the blanket over the both of them and holding Sherlock close.

"Don't worry, I'm here, I won't let anything bad happen to you. You're safe with me."

Sherlock smiled. Honest John, that's what he'd call him. John told so many beautiful Truths, they flowed from his lips like sweet little prayers, carrying away the last of the pain in Sherlock's body.

Sherlock fell asleep listening to the sound of John's heartbeat and the sound of tree frogs beginning to chirp.

This whole thing felt surreal to John, there was something about this kid, he felt... special, he couldn't exactly say HOW he felt special, but it was true nonetheless. He stayed awake as full darkness came and the tree frogs took up their song. He listened intently to the forest for any sounds of people approaching, he felt safe up there, shielded and well camouflaged. He felt pretty proud of himself, he hadn't panicked, he'd done things right, and help was on the way. John sat there in the darkness and cleaned the blade his parents had given him. Even though the situation wasn't ideal, John was pretty calm. His dad was taking the marked trail so he could avoid the Wild Hunt, and was most likely jogging the whole way. He pitied those guys if they tried messing with his dad, the man would not be merciful, especially to people who liked to hunt little kids.

It was an hour or so later when he heard the owl call, he responded with the same call and waited. It repeated again, much closer this time and he replied. His dad knew the ravine had been booby trapped, so he didn't worry, he drew out his torch and listened for the sounds of underbrush movement, peeking his head just slightly through the canvas at the top of their shelter. He called with the sparrow, and his dad found the tree, the sound of a thrush just below him. John breathed much easier immediately. He nestled Sherlock down into the blanket and then gently crawled out of the shelter. the ropes and carabiners were still ready and he could hear his dad at the tree base even though he couldn't see him. He lowered the harness to the ground and tied it off securely, then repeated the thrush call. A minute later there was a few sharp tugs on the harness and then the line went taut. A warm but stern face a minute later was the most relieving thing John had seen since the whole thing had begun. His dad made it to their impromptu treehouse and John didn't know who was the one to initiate the hug but it didn't matter, they were both clinging to each other in relief.

"It's okay son, you did everything right. How's our patient?"

"Cleanly broken fibula and tibia, already set and splinted, and sleeping from the morphine. I haven't seen or heard any more movement from the hunters."

"Good, very good. Now, you said you had video."

Video watched and sleeping Sherlock examined, his dad had a very impressed look on his face and ruffled his hair.

"I have nothing to worry about when it comes to you do I? Steady as a rock. You did great John, I'm very proud of you. Now let's call your mother before she worries too much."

Awhile later it was decided that staying was too risky, this would be the first place they would probably check come morning, and the further away they were the better. The river was their best course, the dogs and wolves would still be out of commission for another day at least so they couldn't be tracked by scent, and with the river they could tow the raft with Sherlock in it from the banks, or even all use it, it was sturdy enough for two grown men, so they shouldn't have a problem. The only thing left to decide is if they would take the river downstream to the beach and towards the large hotels where they might find help, but it seemed the way the Wild Hunt expected them to go, or to travel upstream and then cross new terrain back to their bungalow, taking Sherlock to the other side of the island where the Wild Hunt would be far less likely to find them, and then find out the whole story from Sherlock and decide what needed to be done from there. Either way, Hamish David Watson was not going to leave any visible trail for them to follow.