A/N: Thanks to the followers, reviewers & favourites! Thanks to Not Quite Beserk & Schmiezi

I meant to wish AlessNox a happy birthday today in my other story The Hand You're Dealt, but in the excitement of publishing that chapter I forgot – so I send wishes out in this one!

There is an author's note included at the end of this chapter about various sources of information. I included it at the end to prevent spoilers for the story.

Thanks jack63kids for some clarification about meals – no can of worms – it's not what the rest of you think!

Warnings - rather gruesome murder scene, blood and gore.

As usual, I don't own.

Chapter 2. Rituals

Religion is more than rite and ritual. Yann Martel, Life of Pi

Two Days After

John came home from the surgery a little earlier than usual. It had been a slow day and Sarah had taken pity on him and let him go home. He was extremely grateful to Sarah. She had taken him back to work at the surgery a few months after Sherlock had 'died', working behind John's back with Greg to keep him busy. She'd actually needed him as two of her regular doctors had left at the same time, one to retirement and one to Glasgow. He had been full time for a while. Sarah had let him drop some of his shifts when the detective had returned. She knew they had needed time to be together and John had been pretty useless the first couple of weeks after the detective's dramatic return, mostly due to shock.

As he came to the top of the stairs to the flat, he stopped and listened for a moment. An unusual sound was coming from the direction of the kitchen. A small grin played upon the doctor's lips as he identified the noise.

Sherlock was humming.

Sherlock didn't hum.

Well, at least not outside the bedroom. The humming usually happened when they were…occupied. There may have been a few times it happened when they had been on the couch as well, now that he thought about it.

John walked into the kitchen and watched Sherlock. He was busy looking at some unknown substance through his microscope.

Sherlock seemed totally oblivious to the fact that John was there. He appeared to be deeply wrapped up in whatever it was he was doing.

John cleared his throat.

"Yes, I am aware you are there. I'm in the middle of documenting various molds, comparing them to the mold spores currently growing in 221C."

"Yes and a good afternoon to you, too. How about you lead with 'So happy to see you. Have a nice day at work? Care for a pre-dinner shag?'"

Sherlock glanced up at John, one eyebrow raised. A slight smirked played about his lips. "Knowing you, I would have thought you would prefer an after dinner shag since you'll have more energy from consuming calor…"

His mouth was stopped with a kiss. John had crossed the space between them, while Sherlock had been talking. As he broke off, John said, "How about you keep quiet & I'll make a quick bite and then we'll talk. You can keep working and humming while I putter around. Leftovers okay?"

Sherlock looked at John puzzled. "Humming? I do not hum."

John broke out into a grin "Sure you do. In fact you were, just now, as I was coming up the stairs. Couldn't figure out what that noise was at first. Sounded rather…sea chanteyish. It was kind of melancholy and pretty, vaguely Celtic. You have a nice hum."

Sherlock looked completely nonplussed. He harrumphed a bit and returned to looking through his microscope, while John got something out to eat. John could tell he was distracted and not likely to get anything more accomplished.

"You know a lot of people hum. It's nothing to be ashamed of," John was grinning.

On one hand Sherlock was happy to see John relaxed and happy and if humming made him feel that way, well who was he to put off humming.

On the other hand…

Sherlock knew he never hummed.

And if he did hum, he certainly wouldn't hum a sea chantey.

But he didn't hum.

And he certainly didn't remember humming.

It was one of several things that had been odd the last two days.

That thought was pushed to the back of his head as John served up some leftovers from Angelo's. After John himself, it was the thing Sherlock had missed the most; John's routines and rituals for keeping him fed. It wasn't just John who had lost weight over the past year. With no one to look after him, Sherlock had fallen back into bad habits when it came to eating.

"Come away from the mold and eat. I'd rather not contaminate perfectly good pasta with some weird mutant mold."

Sherlock sighed and followed John.

The mold would have to wait.

oOo

They were just finishing up when Sherlock's mobile chimed with a text.

He glanced at the display.

"Lestrade." He said.

John sighed.

Young woman found dead-looks like ritual sacrifice-altar & everything. Interested? GL

He'd included the address with the text. It wasn't far from Baker Street.

We'll be right over SH

"Come John," Sherlock's eyes glimmered. "Human sacrifice. Sounds highly implausible, therefore possibly intriguing."

John saw how excited Sherlock was. He was just getting back into being allowed access to cases and he was clearly ready for something more challenging than molds.

He smiled at his partner, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

oOo

Sherlock bent over the body of the young woman. It was most intriguing.

Young woman, age 18? No 17. Dressed in what was once a white cotton gown. How dull and predictable. Hair braided with multi-coloured ribbons, as well as tied around arms, wrists and ankles. Laid out on a slab of marble, possibly stolen from construction sight, get Lestrade to check into it. Throat cut, directionality indicates right-handed individual, probably male, wait, judging by the strength of the cut definitely male. Done without anger, slowly and meticulously. Where's the blood? Not enough blood at the throat. Death occurred here. Body wasn't moved. Blood must have been collected. The front of her hair is wet, the substance appearing to be water, flow pattern of water and trace amounts of blood on neck indicate victim was standing upright when both water was poured and throat was cut. Small particles of unknown substance scattered around and on top of her, grain of some kind, looks like barley. Deep cut from just below sternum to just above pelvic region, entrails removed and displayed. There appears to be some sort of mark branded on her hand, like crescent.

"John, can you come here and confirm something? It looks like her liver is missing." He glanced around to see John standing there with a mixture of expressions crossing his face, disgust, horror, anger, surprisingly fear was there and something that looked like recognition.

"John?"

John cleared his throat. He looked at Sherlock. There was a brief but silent communication between them. Yes, John definitely recognized something about this murder. Interesting.

Sherlock stood and walked over to where John stood.

"What is it? What do you know?"

John looked at Sherlock. There was more than just fear and horror and recognition there. He also saw panic. This was not good. John did not usually panic at a murder scene.

"It would be a good idea to call Greg over here as well. I really only want to say this once," said John.

Sherlock turned to find Lestrade had been silently watching them. He came over as Sherlock jerked his head in their direction.

"What have you got?" asked Greg as he walked over.

"John recognizes something about this murder. Isn't that correct John?"

The doctor's lips tightened briefly.

"Not me. I don't recognize it. But I know someone who does."

Sherlock looked at John in surprise. He had definitely seen a look of familiarity in the doctor's eyes and face. "Then who?"

John looked paler of that was possible.

"Eleri recognizes it." Eleri was the name of the first life John had lived. She had been a priestess in the temple of Hecate. "This girl was murdered in a ritual sacrifice from the days of the Greeks. In fact I or rather Eleri performed a similar sacrifice back in the day. But not with humans, never with humans. Just bulls and sheep and the like," John looked like he might be sick. "This is so wrong I can't even begin to explain it. Eleri's mad." He glanced at the two men standing looking at him.

"Look, I know it's crazy and you know it's crazy, but I haven't felt her this close since before… before Sherlock…you know… and the feelings I'm getting from her are horror that someone would do this to a human and anger, like… like someone's perverted a holy ritual. I don't know how else to explain it. She's practically shouting in my head."

Lestrade broke the silence. "Look we've both been there. We were there the night you were speaking in tongues, mate, but it's just…" He waved his hand vaguely in the air. He really didn't know how to finish the thought.

Sherlock didn't hesitate. "You don't talk about it like she's present, in your head, about her feelings. You certainly have never talked about Eleri except as memories."

"Yeah, well this woke her up and she's pissed off." With that John turned and walked closer to the body of the young girl and began his own examination.

Sherlock and Greg looked at each other, both wearing identical expressions of concern.

oOo

"So what can you tell us about the sacrifice of an animal in ancient Greek times? And what makes you so sure that that is what this is?" Greg asked John. They were sitting in Greg's office back at NSY.

John rubbed his face and sat back and thought, his gaze looking inward. When he looked up again, Greg felt he was seeing that ancient soul that had so unnerved him when he had suspected John's real identity as the bearer of a curse.

"This is the kind of thing you can look up in the Internet you know," John was stalling.

"Yes, but why would I when I have an expert sitting right in front of me. Come on John. You know stuff no one else alive today would ever know. Give it over."

Sherlock sat without saying a word. He was just as interested as Lestrade to hear John's explanation.

John nodded slowly and launched into a description.

"You pick an animal that's the best out of a herd or flock. You never stint the gods. It would be insulting. Then you wash it, adorn it in ribbons," he paused.

"Like the girl," Greg said softly.

"Yes," said John. "It's part of the ritual. You want it to be like…" he searched for the right word. "like an honour I guess. Like a posh party with your family or whatever attending and the sacrifice is the most important thing there. It's not just religion. It's a get together. The gods are there as well, unseen, but present. It's a gathering. Do you understand?" Both men nodded.

"But why the water and barley?" asked Sherlock.

His eyes were gleaming again. John knew he was excited. New data. Meanwhile John was nauseated at the whole idea. He tried his best clinical frame of mind, tried putting the dead girl out of his head. He wasn't very successful.

"You pour water on the top of the animal's head to jerk it up and down. When it clears the water off of its face, makes it look as if it were nodding. See it has to be agreeable to the sacrifice. It has to be part of it's own killing. The barley seeds or whatever grain you might have handy, but usually barley, are thrown on, by people watching, so that they have some involvement in the sacrifice. Then the throat is slit and the person performing the killing removes the entrails to read them, to see if the sacrifice pleases the gods. They do it to communicate with the gods. They lay the animal on the altar and oil is poured on and it's cooked and you eat it. That would be like a shared meal. The gods smell the offering and it's like they, well I guess they eat it with you."

Sherlock asked. "Were did the blood go? There wasn't enough blood. They must have gathered it. "

"Well yes, like in a cup or something. You don't want blood in the animal when you cook it. It is usually thrown out, but for some occasions you use it, sometimes as part of asking the gods for favours or other things."

Lestrade, who's face was displaying a horrified interest, said, "Do you think they were going to eat her? Did they get interrupted or something? And why was the liver missing?"

John shrugged, feeling more and more ill, "The liver is used in divining, in working out the gods will. And as I said humans were never sacrificed. The gods frowned on it. They were okay with killing in war or instead of taking prisoners or as punishment, but not on the altar. So yeah, not eaten."

"What about the knife? Anything special? Type of blade?" Sherlock leaned forward. John was slightly disturbed to see the gleam in Sherlock's eye was getting more intense. He was not obviously bothered by the death of the girl the way John and Greg were. A shiver ran down John's back. He thought Sherlock had change a bit being away for a year, but he still seemed as interested in death and it's mechanisms as ever.

"Ummm, well it was a bronze blade, of course, with a curve, and a wooden handle, but other than that, no not really," he thought for a moment.

Greg's turn, "And the brand? On her hand? Looked like a crescent or something."

John looked grim. "The crescent was a symbol of two different goddesses. One was Artemis. This doesn't seem her style."

"And the other?"

"Hecate. She was goddess of the moon and the night." The three men were quiet for a moment, thinking about Hecate's involvement with the curse put upon John and Sherlock.

"I thought that was Artemis? Goddess of the moon," said Sherlock.

"That you remember? More important than the Solar System?"

"I studied Greek religion trying to figure out how to break that curse."

"You didn't delete it?" asked John, surprised.

"Of course not John. It had to do with you,"

John was oddly flattered. He grinned at Sherlock, feeling more normal for the first time that evening since the crime scene.

"Artemis' connection to the moon came later. During my, er, Eleri's time, it was Hecate. As well as witchcraft and crossroads. It changed from region to region. It was complicated and there was overlap. As to your original question, I'm not sure why she was branded. That didn't happen in the temple back in the day."

Lestrade turned to Sherlock, "So give me."

"Really Lestrade a lot of this you could figure out without me."

"I know that you git. I want your ideas."

Sherlock looked pleased and rattled off what he thought about the addition of John's information.

"She was killed in a ritual going back centuries. It is possible from what John has said that she was a willing participant in her own sacrifice. She probably knew her murderer. There were no signs of struggle at the scene. I would construe that she may come from an upper class family, the idea if being 'the best' in our society. There was more than one participant involved if what John says about the placement of the barley. The ritual appears to be connected to Hecate. Which given the nature of her worship is more likely than Artemis. As we have had dealings with Hecate in the past (he ignored John's muttered "distant past") I am thinking that that is more likely. It is odd that something like this would turn up now," he turned to John "Don't you agree?"

"Bit more than coincidence, yeah."

There was silence for a moment.

John cleared his throat, "Well if that's all. I need to get home. I have to work tomorrow. What about you?" he asked Sherlock. "You going to Bart's to look at the body?"

Sherlock was quiet for a moment as he realized something had changed in their relationship of solving crimes together. John wasn't going to go with him. He nodded. John missed the slightly hurt look in Sherlock's eyes.

Lestrade stood to see them out. "Call me if either of you think of anything,"

he said.

The two men left. They crossed the floor to the direction of the stairs. Many eyes followed them, some in interest and curiosity. Some with lingering hostility over the fact that Sherlock had returned from the dead and was reinstated as a hero, there to show them up once more.

Interestingly one pair of eyes followed them with a hidden gleam of madness and glee.

Nice to see you back together again, boys. It's like one big happy reunion!

A/N: Information about animal sacrifices in ancient Greece was found on a website, ironically about atheism. That information was taken and adapted. Bless the Internet for finding out stuff you didn't know you'd need to use some day. Information about gods and goddesses I have read in several different books, with various opinions on their roles. There is some mention of human sacrifice in some texts, but most agree it wasn't likely to have happened often. I also changed some things to suit the story, but I tried to be as accurate as possible. Any mistakes are my own.