I feel that Sherlock would find a way to manipulate every situation to his needs!
-‡-Prince of Hell-‡-
Chapter Eleven
St. George or Greg Lestrade as he currently liked to be called trudged up the outside steps to his apartment, wearily rubbing his face in the dim lighting. The chilly night air was doing wonders for his flushed skin. He couldn't get the image of the girl out of his mind and his only condolence was that he knew for a fate she was in a better resting place. Donovan had also been acting jittery and jumped every time he tried to talk to her. Greg wrote it off as nerves –the crime scene was disturbing- and dismissed the woman. Anderson, the annoying prat took one look at the victim and almost chuckled, whispering 'happy birthday' under his breath. Sometimes the Celestial found his gifts annoying, like how he couldn't just write off the girl didn't have parents because he'd seen them come and collect her.
The thought of paperwork made Greg's mind wonder to his favorite topic and for just a moment the world felt light and he could keep going on. Mycroft had been his charge since the boy was young and Lestrade felt close to both boys but Mycroft had always been his favorite. He had to bite back a growl and remind himself John had promised to keep his human safe.
His human, Greg blushed but couldn't deny he loved the sound of it.
"Lestrade?" A strangled voice rasped out.
"What?" Greg called out, startled out of his musing and automatically pulling out his gun and aiming for the shadows.
Sherlock Holmes walked out of the darkness, looking like a daemon himself. His skin was deathly pale, eyes wide and lips quivering. Lestrade pocketed his gun in astonishment, he'd only seen the man this shaken up once. Lestrade silently fumbled with his keys in his pockets, trying to open the door. Sherlock let out a breathy laugh and reached over the Detective Inspector and opened the door.
"I picked the lock already." His voice shook.
Lestrade nodded but didn't have the energy, ushering the man into his apartment as he flicked on the lights. Sherlock moved with familiarity and moved to sit on the leather couch. Greg's apartment was like John's room, neat and void of personal artifacts. The connection between the two men tied something in Sherlock mind. The tall man shivered and pulled at his curly locks in frustration.
Greg threw his coat and tie on a kitchen chair as he sat in the only other seat across from Sherlock. "What's wrong?"
"He's dead…I followed-…and he's dead." Sherlock said in a daze. His voice was low and haunting.
Greg rubbed his sweaty palms on his knees. "John's dead?"
The name snapped something in Sherlock who deflated with a low moan of agony. Lestrade would have jumped up and hugged the manic man if he wasn't sure the detective would attack him. You could never tell what Sherlock would allow and not allow. So he remained tensely sitting in the chair across from the man. Lestrade wanted to jump up and demand answers but he had a feeling Sherlock had just discovered John was more than he seemed and his feeble human mind- although greater than most- wasn't handling the knowledge very well.
"Sherlock I know this might be strange for you, but you need to talk to me. What happened?"
The commanding tone of the older man snapped at Sherlock who straightened up imminently his face composed into a straight mask of indifference. "After we left the crime scene John and I went back to the flat. We insinuated a few scenarios before he got a call and dashed out. I followed him on foot the entire way and lost him before I found him again but he was at my brother's house." Lestrade stiffened as his face darkened. "The doors were locked but the window's where wide open. Mycroft was wrything on the floor and then….John…..an orb…and he died."
Lestrade scooted forward his face intense. "What orb?"
Sherlock took in a shuttering breath but his voice remained even. "John reached into his throat and pulled out an orb and then ate it."
"I'll murder that lying bastard." Greg roared as he jumped up and grabbed his short silvery hair in anger. "I should have never trusted that daemon."
"What's going on?"
Lestrade turned and regarded Sherlock, the man he had been watching over for five years now, the same time he realized Athena was following Mycroft. There was something different and something intoxicating about the two Holmes brothers. Something that just drew out the worst and the best in a person. Greg had seen the younger man in many situations. Seen the fear when John was in danger, the lust at the crime scene, the disappointment when they missed a vital clue, the intrigue at a new body but the look of helplessness on the man's face was new and something Greg was positive he never wanted to see again. Of course the detective you be confused, it wasn't every day you learned there were other worldly creatures inhabiting your world. His brother had also just been 'killed' in front of him by a man he had thought was a trusted friend.
Greg gently lowered himself back into his chair and took a deep breath. "I'm sure in that enormous brain of yours you've already figured it out, but I'm going to reaffirm it for you. Daemons and Celestials exist. John is a daemon, a very high ranking one. Until recently he resided in Hell as the Prince of Wrath."
Sherlock's eyes widened a bit but he remained silent, Greg could see the wheels turning in the man's head. "Why did he come up here?"
"He wanted an heir. Prince John doesn't want to rule his domain and would prefer someone else do it for him." The only truth Greg was sure of.
"Anthea and the blonde woman work for him. Anthea came around five years and started working for Mycroft the day that I-." Sherlock turned his gaze towards Greg and tilted his head. "You're one of them."
"No not one of them, but I'm like them. I'm a Celestial."
"You're also a Prince looking for an heir and you choose me." It was a statement.
"Spot on as always." Greg chuckled.
"He lied to me." Sherlock snarled angrily.
"Of everything you just realized, you're angry that he didn't shatter your feeble human reality and expose the supernatural community." Greg commented. "He just ate your brother's soul."
Now in control of the situation and able to look at the situation for a different perspective, Sherlock leaned back and through. John had never seemed human before, it was as if he was too big for his skin and now that made sense, and the lingering intimidation and dark presence he had fit his new profile. A Prince of Wrath, a warrior of Hell but why in the name of science would John want Mycroft, why not him? Wouldn't he make a better daemon then his brother? The idea of Mycroft spending eternity with John, always at his side and in his constant presence made his blood boil. No one but him could have John. John was his friend, his blogger, his caretaker, his love.
His.
"He won't hurt him besides Mycroft got up afterwards."
Sherlock's statement floored Greg, who couldn't stop the stupid grin on his face. Mycroft wasn't dead he was an immortal now. He wouldn't die early. Sherlock caught the elation and as usual couldn't help popping the happy bubble.
"Now he'll be even more annoying and I doubt being the heir to hell he'll give you a second glance unless-…"
Greg couldn't believe Sherlock was taking all this new information so well but he really couldn't understand why he was hanging on a human's every word; however, Sherlock was brilliant and seemed to have a plan up his sleeve. "They don't know I know. Does Mycroft even know about you?"
"I doubt it."
A slow smile spread on Sherlock face as he steepled his fingers under his chin. "Hell hath no fury." Sherlock quoted. "Like a lovers scorn."
"It's woman." Greg corrected, Sherlock shot him a look and he held up his hands.
"I don't appreciate being left in the dark and I'm sure neither do you. I accept your proposal."
"Sherlock I like you and all but you're not-.."
"To be your heir." Sherlock snapped interrupting Greg's awkward attempt to gently let the man down. Greg sighed heavily with relief.
"Let's wage a war against the daemons, our hearts as collateral and theirs as the reward." Sherlock said with a triumphant smile.
Getting Sherlock's meaning Greg mirrored his successors smile. "I like where this is going."
"For this to work, you can't act any differently and I can't truly accept your offer until afterward because I'm sure they'd be able to tell when I become," Sherlock paused his gray-green eyes flickering over to Lestrade. "Like you."
Lestrade huffed. "Being a Celestial is a high honor."
"I'm sure it is. Now that we're on the same page tell me is the crazed manic sending John gifts a daemons too?"
Lestrade blinked wondering how the conversation had gotten turned around so quickly, but used to it after five years of interaction with the brilliant man. There was also no point in lying to his heir- a thought he smiled at- Sherlock was like the younger annoying brother he was glad he never had.
"Watson developed an admirer, one of the other Princes. James Moriarty the Prince of Lust and Greed. I don't remember when it started but the week of John's birthday every year James would leave these 'gifts' for him as a declaration of his love. The sick bastard thought it was romantic." Lestrade ran a hand through his hair. "I'd thought the psychopath wouldn't follow him but I guess that was naive of me."
"Yes it was." Sherlock frowned. "Where they lovers?"
"The rumors said yes but I doubt it, John's too good of a man to sleep with that."
"Perfect." Sherlock purred seductively. The game was on and with more variable and stakes at play he felt invigorated.
This was going to be fun.
Stop a psycho path after John's heart. Win Johns heart. Become a celestial heir and still make his dinner reservations for John's birthday! It couldn't get any better.
Sherlock stood up and glided to the door, pausing before he let himself out and left Greg contemplating in his chair. "If I shoot a Daemon will they die?"
Absent-mindly Greg shook his head. "It just stings but it won't kill us, it'll heal in a day or two."
A wide grin spread across Sherlock's face as he walked out of Greg's apartment with a jump in his step. It could get better, now he could shoot Mycroft and not worry about Mummy getting angry. Oh it was Christmas!
Thanks for reading!
The Mad Squirrel (2x)- Love the username and thanks for reading!
Icy Sapphire15- Nom that soul! I died laughing when I read that! Probably my favorite review ever and Moriarty as a dirty little secret ….well I can't deny it but yeahhhhh! XD
Faith Robin- Aww thanks faith I miss Miranda like crazy but I'll live!
Islandwitch- I'm glad you picked a new gene and are anxious for the next chapter! There will be more….much more….hopefully! I know how I want it to end but the middle is kinda up in the air!
LittleMissDreamer7-HAHAHAH I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE how excited you get! Makes me all giddy and happy! I told my sister you said Hi! She thinks fanfiction's stupid but loves Sherlock so we agree to disagree! I'm soo glad you love this!