Day #19: Alien

[REDACTED]

(Rated T)

The last thing John Watson remembered was the hot, sunny desert of Afghanistan; the sounds of gunfire background noise to the shouts of commanding officers. He remembered the hot pierce of a bullet, his entire left shoulder feeling like it was on fire. The last thing John saw before the blackness enveloped him was the panicked face of Private Bill Murray, his lips moving frantically as he reassured John that he was going to be alright, that everything would be okay. That's why when John woke up on a cold metal table in the middle of a sterile white room, he was more than a little confused.

At first he assumed he was in a hospital, but he realised that he was completely starkers, save for a small piece of linen covering his modesty. He opened his eyes, lifting his head to glance down at his bare chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw raw, raised flesh, and he turned his head to look at it. The starburst pattern was a familiar enough one, but not one he was accustom to on his own shoulder. He had seen scars like this on other people before, the lasting reminder of a gunshot wound.

Everything came rushing back at once. The fighting, the gunshot, the pain…but then how did he get here, and how was it possible to have a scar that looked to be about a year old already?

John let out a small groan of annoyance, letting his head fall back against the cool steel table and closing his eyes.

"Subject 6745, homo sapiens." A cool voice said nearby, and John's eyes opened just in time to see a group of five people standing in front of what John assumed to be a wall, but now was open space that lead to a hallway. He watched as a blank, white wall slid smoothly and silently back into place, completely hiding the hallway from view once more. John couldn't even see a seam where the door was, just smooth expanse.

"Er…hello, you must be the…ah…doctors?" John asked, his voice rough from disuse. He cleared his throat as he looked at the people garbed in long robes, each a different colour. They were all tall and pale, dark hair cascading from their heads. High cheekbones and strong jaw's suggested that they all had a common family member, though John wasn't positive that they were all related. There were similarities, sure, but something about the group indicated that they were merely colleagues, not related at all.

"Patient 6745 has awoken." One of the 'doctors' said, a woman in the back. She was reading what appeared to be a medical chart. "He suffers no long term effects from the localized rebinding. His cognitive processes are nearly at full working order, though some sections of his brain are still warming up from the three day sleep."

"Three days?" John asked, sitting up. The 'doctors' continued to ignore him, chatting about his prognosis.

"To whom does he belong?" A male asked, dark hair sweeping across his eyes.

"Me." Another doctor swept in, his robes a lovely purple. His hair was curly, not unlike the other doctors, but his eyes made him stand out. While the other 'doctors' had average blue eyes, this man had shining blue-green. They were like small galaxies, colours constantly changing and shifting. The other 'doctors' seemed to hold this one in great respect, and they hastily backed away from him, heads bent low in what appeared to be reverence. "Homo sapiens, goes by the name of John Watson. He is a medical doctor on earth, intelligent among his race, and considerably brave. I have been watching him for a long time."

John's jaw dropped slightly when the 'doctor' said his name, then he shook himself, smiling ruefully at his forgetfulness. Of course the 'doctor' would know his name.

"Right. Thanks for all the help, but I think I should be fine now." John said, turning so his legs dangled off the table. Immediately, the light overhead his table that had been shining a nice, yellow went bright red. Startled John looked up, trying to figure out why the light had changed colours.

"That is your vital monitor." Purple, as John began to think of him, explained patiently. "It has lost the blood flow in your legs. If you could be so kind as to resume your position on the bed."

"Hardly a bed." John muttered, swinging his legs back up onto the metal slab, earning a small grin from Purple. The light shifted from red, to green, then finally settling back into its soft yellow once more. He wasn't entirely sure how a light could measure all his vital signs, but everyone seemed to be a bit nutty, and it appeared that the best option would be to go with the flow.

"Leave us." Purple said, and the other 'doctors' raised their eyebrows. They did not question it, but merely bowed with a murmured reply that John could of sworn was "Yes, your majesty" before leaving the room. Purple turned back to him, eyeing him with obvious interest. "You didn't take good care of yourself."

"Pardon?" John spluttered slightly.

"I loathe repeating myself, John." Purple admonished, moving toward him slowly. "You were supposed to take good care of yourself. You didn't. You went off to war, and got shot."

"The shooting wasn't really my fault, thanks." John retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, annoyed at the new stiffness in his shoulder.

"But going off to war is." Purple responded, now circling the table. "You are mine, and you allowed yourself to get hurt. That is not allowed."

"Yours?" John frowned, keeping an eye on the dark haired man circling him. "I don't belong to you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go home."

"No." Purple snapped. "You've done a terrible job taking care of yourself. So I'll have to do it for you. That's why I brought you aboard my ship. We are going to my home."

"Ship?" John laughed. "This isn't a ship. This is a…I don't bloody know what it is, but I certainly don't feel waves or…or whatever."

"Not your traditional human ship." Purple rolled his eyes. "I do not come from your planet."

"Oh?" John rolled his eyes. "You come from somewhere else? Some sort of alien then. What does this have to do with me?"

"I am the prince of the planet Holmes." Purple smirked. "Twenty years ago I was exploring your galaxy when I discovered your planet. I was drawn to the small island you call Great Britain, where I discovered you. I decided then that you would be mine."

"You…what?"

"My name is Prince Sherlock." Purple said, ignoring John's annoyance. "Welcome home, John."