Oops sorry If I confused some people but THIS IS 100% johnlock…...with a tiny bit of johncroft…...but I can't make it easy for them!
-‡-Prince of Hell-‡-
Chapter Seven
The car dropped him off at 221B Baker Street and John got out before Athena could attempt to speak to him. He knew she'd beat herself up over this but he was too livid to care at the moment. John walked up the stairs to find Sherlock lying on the couch, his fingers steepled under his chin and eyes closed. John heavily dropped into his chair, still shaken up from his visit with the other Holmes. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples to calm his raging headache.
"Fraternizing with the enemy?" Sherlock said, not bothering to open his yes.
John looked up startled, his heart racing before calming. By enemy Sherlock had meant his brother not him. John pursed his lips he really didn't want to get in the middle of a sibling quarrel on who got the new toy. He was a Prince of Hell not a new toy. John gripped the armrests and took in several deep breaths before speaking.
"Yes, in fact I had a lovely time."
Sherlock jumped up from the couch, startling John and rolled up his sleeves. On his arm John spotted three nicotine patches. He might not have been a real doctor but he had a suspicion it wasn't healthy to be wearing three at once.
"You smoke?"
Sherlock shook his head, his unruly locks bouncing around. "Helps me think," as he started pacing manically.
John shrugged. It wasn't his body and who was he to care if this strange man drove himself to an early death. His brain continued to work against him by still being worried for Sherlock's health. A battle he knew was a losing one.
"On the desk is a number, text this message exactly. 'What happened last night, I blacked out? 22 Northumberland Street. Please come.'" Sherlock commanded.
John ground his teeth in anger, he wasn't this man's servant but what boiled his blood was that he found himself doing as Sherlock commanded. He took out his phone and texted the message to the unknown number. Sherlock bounded forward and pulled a startling pink suitcase from behind his own chair. He unzipped and flipped it open. Grey-green eyes intensely starring into the contents of the luggage bag as if they'd divulge its secrets to him if he looked long enough. John stood in silence glancing from his phone to the suitcase to Sherlock. He looked at the name above the number and felt himself pale.
"Did I just text a dead women's phone? Where did you get that suitcase? Is that hers'?"
Being a Prince of Hell he'd seen many gruesome murders even caused a few of his own but calling a recently dead woman's phone was bad voodoo and John needed all the good karma points he could muster. Sherlock ignored his comment, John wanted to punch his self-righteous face and paint blood upon his lush lips. Wait? Lush lips? Inside his head John Watson started screaming like a mad man and waving his arms in the air. It wasn't bad enough he'd realized his slight attraction to Mycroft, that man was smooth but now Sherlock? The Holmes brothers were to be the death of him. He had to pull himself together. Inner John stopped his screaming and running and sat down into a mediating position. John cleared his mind and breathed through his nose. His first priority was an heir and then he could work out his bazar and startling attractions to the Holmes.
"Going on the fact of pink, it took me less than an hour to find the suitcase abandoned in an alley way that a car could fit through. The rest was simple enough."
John's phone buzzed as a message displayed on the screen. "See you there?" his eyes bulged out of his skull as Sherlock eagerly jumped up from the chair with a winning smile on his face. "Sherlock, did a murderer just text me back?"
"A few hours after his last victim and he just got a text that can only be from her. If it were a regular person they'd ignore it. The murdered would panic. Hungry John? I know a great place to eat."
Again Sherlock ignored him, John had half a mind to grab Sherlock by his collar and slam his lips against the infuriating man's mouth just to shut him up and pay attention to him. Johns face flushed at the thought as he silently stumbled out the door after Sherlock, too embarrassed to even respond. What was wrong with him?
Sherlock led him down the street to a small café. A young Italian man opened the door and Sherlock greeted him with a familiar smile. They were automatically shown an empty tale by the window. The rest of the restraint was full and John found it a bit odd that this single table which was prime spot for a date was left empty. A burly man with a graying mustache and a large friendly smile approached the two.
"Sherlock! Anything on the menu it's on the house, for you and your date."
John opened his mouth to protest but Sherlock shot him down. John was really getting tired of being cut off and ignored.
"John this is Angelo. I proved his innocence during a triple homicide murder by proving he was breaking into a house across London."
"He cleared my name and I didn't go to jail."
"Yea he did."
"But not for as long." The man mumbled before cheering up again. "I'll get a candle for your date."
"I'm not his-.." John sighed as he looked down at the menu with a frown. "Do people normally assume you're the murderer?"
Sherlock shifted, his eyes trained out the window. "Occasionally."
They lapsed into silence as John ordered a plate of pasta. It wasn't an awkward silence but it wasn't all that pleasant. Finally John couldn't take it any longer. "Do you have a girlfriend then?"
"Girlfriend? No, not really my area."
John cursed his heart that sored at that. "Oh so boyfriend?"
Sherlock shot John an unreadable glance. "While I'm flattered at your offer, I'm currently working and you would only cause me a distraction. Ask me later."
John's mouth fell open in surprise. Did he just get hit on? Did Sherlock assume he was asking him out? John stood up abruptly and nodded to the tall man. This was crazy, why was he even here? Dating was not on his list of things to do. He had a job that needed accomplishing. Sherlock barely looked up as John stood up.
"I have other things to do."
"I'll meet you at the flat." He stated.
John frowned again, but didn't respond. Too shocked and confused to even process it as he limped out the café, feeling only slightly guilty he had left Sherlock in their not-Date. John found himself back at 221B. Ms. Hudson rushed forward, her eyes wide with fright.
"It's terrible, they're making a mess."
John felt a dark presence and his mind shut down. He dropped his cane and dashed up the steps, as he kicked the door open and stood frozen in the doorway. Lestrade was lazily sitting in Sherlock chair with an eat-shit grin on his face. Men and women from the Yard where scrounging around the flat, opening draws and cabinets. Anderson was raiding the fridge with more gusto then John felt was truly needed.
"What's going on?"
Lestrade didn't look surprised to see John. "It's a drug's bust."
"Him? Really?"
Lestrade gave John a knowing glance and John quickly looked down at his left hand. Sure enough the words elegantly wrote themselves on his hand. "No," he whispered in disbelief. John shuttered and let the sub-world fall around him, locking the occupants of the room in a dark bubble. Most of the men and women stopped their movements. John wasn't surprised Anderson was still moving but Donovan walked out of Sherlock bedroom, looking confused and startled at her frozen co-workers.
"A blood bond with the living?" John asked with raised eyebrows at Anderson, even Lestrade looked a bit shocked.
Anderson just noticed John and backed up a step as his ears turned a slight pink. John frowned at the man but turned to Sally. "I assume you knew of him, well I'm Prince John Watson," he looked down at his hand. "You would have been mine had you died, for your sins of pride and envy."
Lestrade remained sitting. "What do you want?"
"Leave us alone." John commanded.
"This isn't in your jurisdiction, in fact I found out you didn't even get a permit. You're technically here illegally but because your intentions are pure I've been assigned to watch you."
"Have you ever had tea with Mycroft? He's wonderful company." John said with a pleasant smile.
Lestrade leapt up and growled at the Prince, his eyes flashing white with rage. Sally gasped and edged towards Anderson who had gone from flushed to pale. John raised his hand and shook his finger at the Celestial. "Calm now George. Anger does strange things to your kind."
"Now you're extorting me?" He growled.
"I didn't threaten you. I didn't insult you. I asked a simple question to which you answered perfectly. You're not investigating the Holmes, you're watching Mycroft. How adorable. Did you see him from above and decide he was the one?"
"I heard you sent your own blood bond. I've seen her loyally following behind him, or did she run away from you."
John pursed his lips about to summon his gun. His eyes flicked to Anderson and Donovan, both looked scared and nervous. John looked back at Lestrade and faltered. A white mist was circling the man's legs. A spirit was following the Celestial. John pointed at the mist; Lestrade followed John's fingers and looked down. With a chuckle he bent down and scooped the mist up, cradling the smoke in his arms before it solidified into a baby girl.
"Rachel," he supplied.
John's mind leapt to the dead women and how she had scratch Rachel on the floor with her fingernails. He looked over the baby with sad eyes. The little infant gurgled and reached up with chubby hands to touch the inspectors face as she smiled brightly. Lestrade looked down at her with clear affection. It was the one thing John hated and loved about Hell. They never got any children or infants, because the young where too pure to be punished. Unable to hold the limbo world much long, John felt time catch up with the small group. The baby girl disappeared with the sub-world. Lestrade's face hardened as he let his empty arms drop back to his side.
John looked away from the sad expression on Inspectors face. An officer walked over to Lestrade and handed him a small red tin. He whispered something and Lestrade stiffened, his eyes flickering over to john and then the tin. John walked over and held out his hand for the tin. Lestrade handed it over with a frown. John held his breath and opened it. His face contorted in disgust. Inside was what looked like a voodoo doll nailed onto a woman's heart. The nail went through the dolls heart and twisted around the nails was a lock of black hair; John knew belonged to Sherlock's. The bottom was layered with red rose petals. It was a clear message from him.
"You better find him." Lestrade breathed, looking at the doll with horror and repulsion.
John shoved the tin back at the Inspector and dashed out the door without a word. He jogged back to the restraunt. Sherlock wasn't by the window. He burst into the café and spotted Angelo. He made a bee-line for the man and clasped his shoulder. "Where's Sherlock?"
Angelo looked surprised. "He got a cab."
John cursed loudly and ran back outside. He turned in a circle, his eyes searching the crowd. He couldn't get the image of the voodoo doll and heart out of his mind. It wasn't an empty threat. Sherlock was in serious danger, but how did he track the man? John fumbled in his jacket for his cell phone. He dialed Athena's number. She picked up after the second ring, sounding tired and worn out.
"Listen John I can't-."
"I got a message from him. Sherlock's in danger. I have to find him now." John hissed into the phone.
"Oh good gods." Athena cursed, John nodded in agreement. This was bad, really really bad. "Did he have his phone on him?"
John scrunched his face in thought. "I think so, he left in a cab."
"I can trace his phone if he still has it on him. Hold on a moment." Athena said as John heard her furiously typing. He waited with baited breath, hoping she could locate him. After a moment she made a triumphant sound. "He's at the college."
"Thanks," John yelled as he snapped his phone shut and hailed a cab of his own. He got in and gave the address, and with shaky hands called the Yard, leaving a message for Lestrade. The cab pulled up to two identical white buildings. John got out and looked at the two. He had to pick one; Sherlock's life depended on it. Left! John sprinted into the left building. He ran through the hallways and checked every room. It was silent and abandoned for the night. On the second floor John spotted Sherlock and another man through the window.
John stopped at the window, his dark blue eyes bulging out of their sockets at Sherlock's stupidly bringing a pill to his mouth. John could smell death from the pills, even from another building. Both were poisoned but only the cabbie would survive because of his daemonic possession. John's teeth ground in anger it was one of his own, a Daemon of wrath, they were especially vicious. Like a cat curls around a leg, the daemon was twisted around the cabbies shoulders whispering smoothly into his ear; tempting him and pushing the man. It was contradictory that Daemons of Wrath whispered soothing words and moved gently but they railed even the calmest man to heights he normally would not have gone.
"Sherlock!" John screamed, reaching out his left hand and throwing all the energy he could manage. The world didn't stop as he had planned but it did considerably slow down. He was spent out from last time. He could feel the earth creeping slowly under his feet. It still wouldn't give him enough time to save the sod and his only option became engaging the sub-limbo which only the 'others' could access and move around in, meaning he still couldn't touch Sherlock. A wide grin spread over his face, but he could kill the cabbie.
The super-slow movement of the world transcended into the sub-limbo and the cabbie froze, the daemon of wrath on his shoulders didn't. Sensing the shift it hissed angrily and looked around. John shook out his right hand with a smirk, his silver gun misting into his waiting hand. He pursed his lips, killing a possessed human wasn't on his list of pleasures but the list of sins on the cabbie was clear; he had killed other innocents. He was a moving target and no one could reprimand him. John took aim and shot. Lifting the sub world seconds before the bullet hit the man.
The cabbie stumbled back, gripping his shoulder in pain as a bullet ripped through his skin. His mind exploded with the screams and sobs of his victims. The innocent people he had condemned to die because he was scared of death. He felt to the floor, John's dark blue eyes watching with cold amusement and satisfaction. The Daemon around the cabbies shoulders shriveled and shrieked out of existence. Sherlock, startled out of his trance dropped the pill to the floor.
John fled the scene, ashamed at his cowardliness but more embarrassed about his self. Being on the surface had made him almost happy to take down that man. He enjoyed in the punishment, almost looking forward to the torture that man would later face. Sirens blared in the distance. John sank to the ground with a huff, bringing his legs up to his chin. He deeply breathed in the night air, the cold stinging his lungs.
"This is wrong."
Lestrade appeared at his side with a raised eyebrow. "What's wrong? You just saved an innocent man's life."
John leapt up. "I need a favor?"
Greg backed up a step, feeling uneasy about this. Only knowing a daemon for a day before it was asking for a favor? That didn't sound promising. "I need to know what it is."
"If I should snap, if I should become like-…" John didn't need to finish his sentence at Lestrade's horrified face. "Take me down."
"J-John." Lestrade stammered this was not what he had been expecting and he really didn't like where this conversation was going.
John took a step forward, holding out his handing hands. "I killed, and it made me happy. Take me down Greg."
Lestrade ran a hand through his short hair, breathing out through his nose. "I can't do that, your too-.."
"My leg." John interrupted. "Attack my leg with your sword it's my weak spot and then when I'm distracted for those slight seconds stab my shoulder. You'd only have about ten seconds but I'm sure a skilled fighter like yourself could manage it. Anywhere else you attack would be too tough. Greg can you do that? Please."
At John's vulnerable and pleading gaze, Lestrade felt his resolve break. The man had just told him how best to murder him should he crack. Greg felt his respect solidify and he knew John held his loyalty and friendship. John Watson wasn't like any other daemon and Lestrade would bet his wings that he would make an excellent King of Hell, too bad the bloke thought himself useless.
"Ok, but only if you are truly gone."
John sighed heavily with relief. "Thank Hades."
Lestrade nodded, turning back to go find Sherlock and have a chat with him. He walked away shaking his head. "You are something else John Watson." He murmured.
John managed to pull himself together; he had only gotten rid of the cabbie not the real threat. If he didn't watch Sherlock who would? A tiny voice in his brain whispered that watching Sherlock was something enjoyable. He stood behind the police line watching Lestrade talk to Sherlock. The tall man looked at him and John knew he knew. With a small smile John nodded. Sherlock broke away from the Inspector and walked over to John.
"I assume your taking the room?"
"Someone needs to look after you." He said with a wide grin.
Sherlock smirked and looked thoroughly pleased with himself. "And you're just the doctor I need."
Aww super cute! I just had to add the fluff in! Thanks for reading. Sorry it took longer than normal!
LittleMissDreamer7- hahaha you make me laugh! I'm thrilled you still like this!
Angeluz66- Kinda both but mainly johnlock
Icy Sapphire15- Neither? Now that would be weird! But Both…kinda. Cheese!
BipolarMolar- Love the username! Very original! Oh wow your favorite! Well I hope it continues to be so! I love to know what you think. Sucks about your internet. Hopefully it'll work better.
Yuki- Im kinda late so does that means my cookies will be burnt? Chocolate CAKE! Hellzyeah!
Phantom- wow long review! Thanks a bunch! I will read that comic thanks, I've never heard of demon orono. I liked your suggestion and I agree but I kinda wanted to kill the cabbie, he's a bad man XP but from now on it's gonna be a bit different! Thanks for the idea!