Author's Note: Massive thanks to everyone who reviewed, it really motivated me to type a bit faster.
Brilliant tendrils of light curled out from the watch, spilling over the edge and twining around my fingers. They kept growing and growing and stretching and reaching, until they filled the entire room. The light crept down the stairs and without thinking, I followed it. Upon reaching the bottom of the steps, I saw watched, transfixed, as the light moved towards Sherlock, who was facing the wall and tuning his violin. Just as it came within a hairs breadth of my flatmate's shoulder, I snapped the watch shut, and the light disappeared.
"Yes John?" the detective mumbled, still sawing away at his Stradivarius.
"Nothing, nothing…" I whispered, looking down at the cold metal timekeeper.
"Did you collect anything salvageable?"
"Yeah, I'll go get it," I turned around and exited the room possibly a bit quicker than necessary.
An hour later Mrs. Hudson arrived home from visiting with her sister, her arms laden with suitcases and grocery bags. By some miracle, I coaxed Sherlock into helping me assist her with settling back into her relatively untouched flat.
"Oh, Mycroft called and told me what happened dears," the kindly old woman patted my cheek, "I hurried home quick as I could, is it that bad?"
"I'm afraid so," I gave a wan smile, "It's okay though, we managed to save a few things." She only nodded and looked towards Sherlock, who was sorting the shopping in the kitchen.
"Is he okay? I know how much this flat is to him."
"He's Sherlock Mrs. Hudson, we probably won't know until it's too late," I answered somberly, glancing over at him.
"I know, but, he really is like a son to me, just as you are dear, I don't want him getting into trouble," the landlady sighed, wringing her time-gnarled fingers.
"No one does, that's what we are here for, me, you, Mycroft, Lestrade, we're here to keep him safe," I assured, "I'll make some tea, yeah?"
"That'd be sweet of you John; I'm just glad Mary's there to keep you safe." I swallowed, not welcoming the mention of my estranged wife, but managed a tight smile and padded into the kitchen.
"Er, where does the jam go?" Sherlock asked, looking confusedly up from the icebox.
"Shelf on the door, left side," I replied, filling the kettle up with water from the sink.
"Good, good, and what about the celery?"
"Bottom drawer, on the left."
"No, that's where the small body parts go, such as toes, fingers, and eyes," Sherlock admonished.
"Just put it there alright? Not everyone fills their fridge with bits of people for experimentation." He huffed, but did as told.
"John, are you okay?"
"What?" I turned to face him, "'Course I'm okay. Why do ask?"
"You seem, a bit, distracted," the raven haired genius stated in a rare show of concern. I shrugged, and returned to preparing tea.
By the time the kettle boiled my day was officially ruined. Mycroft dropped by to say that he had found us a flat, but that it was very scarcely furnished, meaning that it contained no bed, one couch, an arm chair, a toilet, a and refrigerator. That's it. But that it was much less than expected and we could probably use the money left over to fully repair 221b.
While all four of us were sitting in Mrs. Hudson's flat sipping at our tea, the doorbell rang again.
Mary. Lovely.
I stared out at my wife, her light and tasteful makeup, cute pixie-cut hair, sweet smile, adorably large eyes, and disgustingly gruesome past in which she earned her way as a murderer. Ah, domestic bliss.
"So, I hear you've found yourselves a new flat?" she looked down at her shoes, as if doing so would spare her the shame of reality.
"Yes," was all I said in response.
"That's… nice. Y-you know you are always welcome back at my place, I do have a-"
"Would you mind if Sherlock came too?" I cut off, crossing my arms in challenge.
"Well, ah- you see I-I've only, um, that might not work out b-because…"
"Exactly," I moved to shut the door.
"John please!" Mary insisted, wedging the tow of her shoe in the doorway, "Please come back to me! God I love you so much, John, please!" My stomach felt warm with the knowledge someone out there who cared that much.
"Mary, you lied to me, you lied, and you lied, and you lied," I reasoned, already familiar with the fact I was not going to give in.
"Sherlock lied," she breathed. Too far.
"Don't you EVER, EVER try to bring that man down to your FILTHY level, Sherlock lied to SAVE me, and you lied to DECEIVE me, so if I EVER hear you say ANYTHING that would in any way tarnish him, I will kill you," I answered honestly, fists clenched at my sides. Mary's shoulders sagged in defeat.
"I lied because I love you, can you say the same for him?" She sauntered off into the wet London weather. Still fuming, I slammed the door and stomped back to Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft and Sherlock.
"Mary, I presume," Sherlock intoned casually with a sip of his tea, much too casually.
"Yeah, it was Mary," I spat, slumping into an armchair.
"Trouble in paradise?" Mycroft asked, a slight smirk pulling at his lips.
"Yeah," I gulped down the rest of my tea, scorching my throat in the process.
"What's the problem dear?" Mrs. Hudson took my hand.
"She just, she, she just can't grasp the fact that she isn't welcome," I bit out, squeezing her hand.
"It'll be okay, you'll work it out eventually."
What if I don't want to? I thought grimly, looking over at Sherlock, and found him staring straight at me with those strange gray-green eyes. My heart sputtered and stopped before starting up again at a quicker pace.
We finished our tea quickly, the conversation having failed soon after my return. Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson took the tea tray and cups to the kitchen and I held the door open for Mycroft.
"Goodbye Mycroft, we will surely be checking out that flat soon," I said stiffly.
"Yes, good, John, what do you have in your pocket?" the elder Holmes inquired, glancing down at my jeans. Confused, I pulled the pulled the watch out, and was flooded with the rush of impossible memories that came with it. Upon seeing it, Mycroft's eyes went wide and he snatched it from my hand.
"Where did you find this!?" he demanded, shaking it in front of my face.
"I dunno' upstairs? What's so important about it?"
"John, there is too much too explain about this for one day," he frowned, pocketing the watch.
"Then give me the short version," I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes, daring him to defy me.
"Short version, Sherlock and I are aliens from a dead planet hiding on Earth to escape a number of extra-terrestrial pursuers. I trapped Sherlock's consciousness in this watch because he would not be able to keep the secret."
"What!?"
Hahahaha. Next chapter Mycroft will be giving the full length explanation. Do not fear, more Who will be introduced in future chapters. And Johnlock will be coming.