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John is a super soldier. (Possible crossover with Captain America?)
anonymous
March 30 2014, 22:09:51 UTC
So after the Captain thawed out they started recruiting people for another crack at creating super soldiers. John at the time was an army medic and jumped at the chance to follow in the footsteps of one of his childhood heroes (perhaps his granddad served with him? Or his grandmother helped in the war and liaised with SHIELD and he was told stories about him?)
Maybe it worked for some, maybe it didn't work for everyone but it was quickly disbanded and was hushed up (by Mycroft maybe?)
Either way, John and Sherlock met and went on as in BBC canon with John hiding whatever powers he had until the incident in New York (Avengers Assemble.) and the whole Norse God in London thing (Thor 2?) / *invent something here* the UK decided to follow suit and set up a team of superheroes and what do you know, John's name was at the top of the list.
"John's a superhero? So that's why he's not boring like everyone else!"
Whatever happens next is up to the author. Maybe Not!Anthea is the UK's answer to Black Widow, and Mycroft is it's answer to Nick Fury?
Bonus points if Sherlock had no clue about any of this and is seriously surprised that everyone around him (including Mrs Hudson) is being recruited. Double points if other Marvel heroes are mentioned in passing (I.E Captain Britain?) Triple bonus points for John refusing to wear a lycra like super suit but agrees to a sort of uniform. Super mega points if Anderson is in fact a genius that gets recruited or is a Coulson like agent (that hero worships John/ Sherlock)
(Why yes, I did see the Winter Soldier, why did you ask? And no, nothing there is a spoiler for the new film as far as I'm aware.)
Writer anon who wants to do this but....
anonymous
April 16 2014, 19:33:04 UTC
I would fill this out but I haven't seen ANY of the movies but Avengers 1 (not even Hulk/Iron man/Thor) so everything I know about Cap is COMIC only orz. Like Bucky, etc.
I could make an Avengers/Sherlock crossover with John as a British version of Captain America, (with Sherlock as SW, Anderson as Hawkeye, etc.) and they all have 'double lives,' until Ultron/Whatever happens until someone fills your prompt?
*Doesn't want to watch five+ hours of movies to do a good prompt*
Re: Writer anon who wants to do this but....OP
anonymous
April 18 2014, 20:12:22 UTC
Well I haven't read the Captain America comics yet (Yes. I'm very disappointed in myself too) but that sounds like a super fantastic idea and I would love to read your fill if you write it. =D
Same writer anon
anonymous
April 21 2014, 13:49:39 UTC
I'll do that and stick to your prompt as close as possible with John. I'll try to watch the Captain American movies too and attempt the original prompt if nobody jumps on it. I have the first one and I can bootleg the second.
Any badguy you want specifically with who? Like Loki/Ultron/Red as X from Sherlock?
Wrath of the machines (God the title is corny I can't think of another.)
anonymous
April 25 2014, 23:52:52 UTC
Writer anon here. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. This stuck to me and I ended up writing some of this by hand (literally) because I didn't have a computer at the time I accepted this prompt.
You probably seen my writing around and I swear to finish this. I already have a plot down along with who the cast is going to be after a lot of consideration and re reading old comic books. The roster is going to be unexpected (in terms of powers and otherwise) so I hope you like it. It's not beta nor brit picked.
Also OP I hate Ant man too but well...he has a purpose lol.
-----
John Watson recalled tales of his grandmother back when he was a young child; stories about serving with the Americans and witnessing the great hero know as Captain America.
Tales of him as well as the other heroes reached even the United Kingdom, making the youth wide with blue shiny eyes and a small smile on his grandma's lips. Harry would only roll her eyes to conceal her own curiosity, listening near the doorway when she thought nobody would be looking.
She would speak in a hushed voice about helping the wounded and watching in the side lines as the Blue and Red suited male fought against the Red skull as well as the Nazis back then. Her talk motivated John to become a doctor himself, to rush into the heat of battle and defeat his own 'enemies.'
Wrath of the machines 2/?
anonymous
April 26 2014, 00:04:03 UTC
Oh how naive John felt when he finally enlisted to the Army.
He thought it would be easy to get his medical degree and 'serve the queen,' but nothing prepared him for the pain, the blood, and the heat.
The blond man would spend hours up at night after grueling combat or watching people bleed under makeshift cots under him just staring at the stars. He wondered if he would crack like a few lost souls did here in the desert or he would finally end up dead.
His answer came many years later when he ended up being ambushed and shot. John couldn't recall much after that besides begging to live, the burning hot pain flicking and snaking its way all over his shoulder and leg, along with the copper taste of blood.
The doctor seemed to talk as if his voice was muffled in front of him; about how he couldn't use his hands anymore, his nerves been damaged and a 'new opportunity' with some kind of serum that the UK was developing with SHIELD to make him 'useful.' John only nodded and gave his consent since he felt like he reached rock bottom at this point.
Wrath of the machines 3/?
anonymous
April 26 2014, 00:20:15 UTC
Its a slow build but I'm trying to hit all of the prompts. If you notice anything weird let me know in the comments too.
------
John woke up with a start; gasping and fists flying like a fish out of water. He ended up being tangled in the duvet and fell to the side of the bed.
"Hell..." He groaned weakly, trying to kick start his brain along with getting his nerves back to check. 'A dream...only a dream.'
He wasn't in the desert anymore. No more experiments. No more doctors poking him with various kinds of vials and seeing which ones worked or not. No he had a home here with a mad genius who considered himself a 'consulting detective.'
When Mike told him about a bloke that couldn't find a flatmate due to 'misfortune circumstances' of them leaving, John was leery at first but decided to jump right on it when he ran into 'tall dark and cheeky' at St. Bart's.
A cross between amazed and amused at the man's deductions he ended up being whisked away into crimes as well as danger.
"Like I don't have enough." John finally managed to untangle himself from the duvet, blond hair astray on his head. He kept it short after the discharge and just in case he had to put on a mask.
John sat up, leaving half of the sheets on the floor, and rolled his shoulder. The tendons and nerves were off but he could work with them.
John put on a robe and walked down the short trek from his room to the sitting area. No violin playing, no experiments, no stone statue of a man on the couch. Total silence.
The blond former solider didn't enjoy it and scanned the area; finding a small post it note on the fridge.
'Went to do a case for the Yard. We also need milk so make sure to pick some up along with pickle juice.' SH
John rubbed the bridge of his nose, already having a headache coming. He told Sherlock that any case that required him in person to either go with John or another kind of back up since they would always end up going wrong.
He still remembered the time that they chased down one robber and John almost ended up being blind sided by a fly away piece of wood from a construction site, slipped on a banana peel, and was almost hit by a car. Or the one and only time that John witness Sherlock driving a car to catch another criminal and they flipped not once but twice and almost crashed into said poor woman.
'For some reason danger is attracted to Sherlock.' John decided to eat some toast, skipping his cup of tea, and washing quickly so he could catch up to Sherlock before the Yard or someone else ended up damaged.
"Most likely me." He mumbled darkly, thanking God that he had supernatural powers. The only good thing that the war gave him, despite being a double edge sword.
Wrath of the machines 4/?
anonymous
April 26 2014, 00:46:52 UTC
William Sherlock Scott Holmes. He detested his full name as much as his powers.
His parents were free spirited but intelligent people. His mother a professor and his father a businessman. They were jolly, down to earth, but otherwise strict.
So to have not one but two genius level children were not beyond their means but overwhelming. It didn't help that Sherlock ended up being born a mutant.
His parents didn't know, oh no, neither did Mycroft because his powers were as unorthodox as himself.
Sherlock would cause 'chaos' sort to speak. Catastrophes, misfortunes, death. Incidents that weren't obvious but could be shrugged off as coincidences.
He discovered through grueling trials that it would only happen when he was upset. His brother Mycroft accidentally being burned by splattering grease while his mother made dinner after discovering him eating his favourite snack. A bookcase falling on a teacher that refused to admit he was right on a mathematical matter. He couldn't seem to delete the one incident that caused a school bus to crash horribly due to a few boys bullying him when he first started schooling. Prompting his parents to drive him and keep a regard on his well being.
Sherlock wondered did his brother believe him to be a mutant or only saw what he wanted to see. He never asked and honestly he didn't want to know. He refused to call it 'magic' but having full control over chaos and probability was discording and beyond the means of science.
Frustrating.
He tried to control his ability and found out that he could use it to make positive results, either with math calculations of the probabilities or by mental focus. His father succeeding in a business deal. His mother finding a few pounds on the ground. Mycroft sharing his dessert with him.
Still Sherlock didn't have full control over his powers which prompted him to find outside matters.
He first went to Doctor Strange and after arrangements (with a little subterfuge) only spent a whole week with the man before he dismissed him as a foolish poppy cock idiot at the age of sixteen.
Wrath of the machines 5/?
anonymous
April 26 2014, 01:02:00 UTC
Sherlock then did the research on his own, seeking out various tombs as well as information. From what he discovered there was one other person, maybe two, with his abilities but he couldn't locate them. He wasn't sure if they were killed off by their own powers either.
'Highly likely.' A young Sherlock Holmes snorted as he continued to read the latest snipped material of information under the bed in his home.
He found out about SHIELD through his research and contemplated on how to crack into their databases. With a few strings he ended up being in the SHIELD operated base of Baskerville in the west country by using the excuse that he knew his brother Mycroft and was going on a 'field trip.'
Ironically it worked. Thank his bumbling brother for having interest in working as MI6.
The teenage Sherlock tried played off as an inquisitive sixteen year old, wide eyed but innocent. It worked for the most part, with his curly black hair being noticed by the opposite sex and his mysterious every changing eyes also a hit.
His brother wasn't fooled though and Sherlock knew he had limited time as he tried to find a main database that was connected to the branch console computer. Of course as always when things could go wrong they did go wrong.
Wrath of the machines 6/?
anonymous
April 26 2014, 03:23:48 UTC
The experiments were the end results of the English trying to make a similar compound to the 'super solider' formula that the Americans created so many years ago. Many test subjects were tried on and only a scant few from Sherlock's hacking knowledge were successful. He watched passively but in scientific curiosity as they tried to use various kinds of radiation on an isotope. His momentary slip of focus causing the next thing to happen.
An explosion from the result of his probability powers caused a chain reaction. The teenager tried to contain it, to change the probability of the situation of chaos but the situation distracted him further.
Death. Bodies all around. Scientists and doctors were laid out in their own blood as well as other fluids. It reminded Sherlock of the bus incident all over again. The children screaming all because of him. Arms and other pieces all over the floor and windows because of him.
Him.
He sucked in the panic from his nerves and swallowed down the bile rising to his mouth. Sherlock tried to concentrate, to contain the experiment from having a nuclear reaction in the next room to change the probability to something positive.
'Workdamnitworkdamnitworkdamnit.'
The black haired teen gritted his teeth as it grew more and more out of control, not realizing that his brother tackled him away until it was too late.
-----
When Sherlock awoke he found himself in a medical room; spartan except for a lone bed as well as a medical machine humming next to him.
He knew he remain unharmed without even looking down at himself. His powers always grant him such a luxury. No other things would suffer in his wake or pay the price.
People. Objects. Buildings. Something.
Two soldiers approached him, coming in from the white bolted door and Sherlock tried to deduce them, to answer their questions with half lies but he knew they knew. They were SHIELD'S dogs after all. He picked it up by their stance as well as the uniform that the bald one wore.
"Where is my brother?"
The men didn't say anything and Sherlock feared the worse, that his powers killed off someone he cared about. Someone close.
He tried not to weep he really did but the tears ended up falling anyway; head bowed and fist balled up.
Wrath of the machines 7/?
anonymous
April 26 2014, 03:24:46 UTC
The next part should explain John's powers more and hopefully set up for the further 'UK Avengers.'
------
He didn't see his brother Mycroft again until weeks later; the man heavily bandaged up and escorted to their home by SHIELD ops. The ginger haired man was tight lipped from that day on and Sherlock knew. The look on his face showed it all.
'My fault. It is all my fault.'
Sherlock vowed to never get involved with another person, to not have them close to him again. His wish ended up being partly granted when Mycroft left him behind, only keeping in contact in the shadows.
------
Sherlock sucked in the cigarette he managed to steal from one of the officer's pockets.
'Why am I recalling such sentimental feelings now?'
Sherlock knew why. John Watson. The ex medical army veteran that was current housed in the same vicinity as himself.
When Mike Stamford approached Sherlock the detective was leery. He didn't want another flatmate; not fully control over his powers. Sherlock tried everything, drugs and what not, and found that the Work was the only solution. When his mind wandered so did his powers so he needed something to keep it in check.
Unfortunately the Yard would give him cases that were not suitable for his mind so it would end up having his powers emerge. Like on his last female roommate before he met John.
'She should be happy that her pubic hairs can grow back as well as the hair on her head.'
Surprising John Watson seem slightly immune to his powers for some reason. Outside of a few injuries he didn't seem to be in any permanent mental nor physical harm. No incidents in the flat, no explosions, nothing so far that would be a hassle. Sherlock prepared himself regardless; to make sure he wouldn't feel pain when John left or met his demise.
He told himself he would not go through sentiment. Not after seeing the look on his brother's face those years ago; as if he was a monster to be feared.
The black haired male breathed in another drag before blowing out a wisp of smoke. He watched lazily, already bored, as he waited for John to show up eventually.
Lestrade had another case for him but so far it seemed like a five at the most. A heist of metals as well as machines from a former associate of his from the university he attended for one year.
One year because the teachers were so boring and stupid. One year because he almost burnt the school down after arguing with one Sebastian Wilkes.
'I should had burnt the school down; maybe then I wouldn't have to work for Sebastian again.' He saw John approach in the distance and stubbed out his fag. Sherlock knew the doctor would know but it was smoking or experimenting with his powers on the fool Anderson and he would rather do the former than the later.
Wrath of the machines 8/?
anonymous
May 1 2014, 14:30:19 UTC
John Watson approached his friend, features already forming a frown as he picked up the scant smell of smoke from his extra sensitive nose. 'Sherlock really? And he was doing so good too.'
Instead of hen picking he decided to put both feet into the topic of the case. "So what is it this time? You didn't go over the details before you left."
Sherlock attempted to speak until a whoosh and a voice pipped up near his ear. "Hey John. Stolen metals from the Wilkes corporation." When did he show up? John couldn't get used to how the DI would run over so quickly and/or surprise the two so inconveniently.
It seemed to be that Sherlock was used to it because he didn't even flinch.
'Wilkes? You mean Sebastian Wilkes? That bloke that me and Sherlock helped a while back? I didn't know he had more than banks under his name.'
John watched how his flat mate froze at the mention of that name; nose turned up, those gray eyes of his seeming to change colors rapidly with a surge of emotions before settling on their neutral tone. "Lestrade you must eat your meal near my ear with such a loathsome manner?"
The gray haired man only shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat his egg and cheese bap he got from Tesco's. "Some of us enjoy to eat three meals a day Sherlock."
John had to hold back a smirk at how Sherlock tried not to roll his eyes until Lestrade finally parted, speaking again.
"A rare metal was stolen from the Wilkes corporation."
"Really."
"Yes really." At this Sherlock did roll his eyes. He walked over to where the police were situated at; a run of the mill building that looked like a wreaking ball hit the good front of it; material and bricks laying haphazardly along with tap. "Adamantium to be precise."
The blond male paused at that, his gait not halting. 'The same material used for Captain American's shield?' Who would use that? No more precise why would Wilkes make the stuff in England of all things in such a run down and out in the open shop.
John glanced at his roommate to see if he would comment but sadly he didn't. He wasn't sure if Sherlock had no idea who the Captain was or chose to ignore it.
"From the damage and the wear on the bricks it looks like the person escaped from the inside of the building rather than break in from the outside.
"Escaped? Are you telling me that this place housed something besides the metals?"
"Precisely John! The police have been a stupid nuisance as usual and refuse to let me question the caretaker here; deciding to question the man himself before I arrived. Botching evidence as usual!"
John peered into the hole; besides the metals missing it looked like a regular storage house. There wasn't any other machines nor items out of sorts besides the giant hole near the end of the facility. "Sherlock are you sure it wasn't somethings not something."
"No John, one, singular." Sherlock went near his flat mate and pointed towards the ground. "The indention of the dirt here," and he pointed towards another spot, "And here shows something of two feet came out of here. There's also markings of the dragging of a metal box from the residue I picked up earlier; shavings."
"Brilliant." Sherlock peered up at that and John coughed in his hand. He needed to stop doing that even though it pleased the man.
Then suddenly something ran over. "John? John Watson?" A new trainee police officer came towards the two. "You dropped this. Someone found it laying on the ground and noticed it was yours from the ID."
"Oh Ta." John inspected the contents right after the young man left, expecting to find pounds or at least his cards missing and discovered that he had more money than he put in here. A lot more. "The bloody hell...?"
"Coincidence of a good samaritan." John missed how Sherlock's ears turned pink as he hid in his scarf.
Maybe it worked for some, maybe it didn't work for everyone but it was quickly disbanded and was hushed up (by Mycroft maybe?)
Either way, John and Sherlock met and went on as in BBC canon with John hiding whatever powers he had until the incident in New York (Avengers Assemble.) and the whole Norse God in London thing (Thor 2?) / *invent something here* the UK decided to follow suit and set up a team of superheroes and what do you know, John's name was at the top of the list.
"John's a superhero? So that's why he's not boring like everyone else!"
Whatever happens next is up to the author.
Maybe Not!Anthea is the UK's answer to Black Widow, and Mycroft is it's answer to Nick Fury?
Bonus points if Sherlock had no clue about any of this and is seriously surprised that everyone around him (including Mrs Hudson) is being recruited.
Double points if other Marvel heroes are mentioned in passing (I.E Captain Britain?)
Triple bonus points for John refusing to wear a lycra like super suit but agrees to a sort of uniform.
Super mega points if Anderson is in fact a genius that gets recruited or is a Coulson like agent (that hero worships John/ Sherlock)
(Why yes, I did see the Winter Soldier, why did you ask? And no, nothing there is a spoiler for the new film as far as I'm aware.)
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P.S. Frack you fracking British Fracks getting to see Captain AMERICA before we Americans
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I could make an Avengers/Sherlock crossover with John as a British version of Captain America, (with Sherlock as SW, Anderson as Hawkeye, etc.) and they all have 'double lives,' until Ultron/Whatever happens until someone fills your prompt?
*Doesn't want to watch five+ hours of movies to do a good prompt*
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Any badguy you want specifically with who? Like Loki/Ultron/Red as X from Sherlock?
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Hmmm.... I can't think of a specific bad guy that I want in this. I'll let you use your writer's initiative if that's okay.
I would love it if The Wasp was in it though (after the bit I've read, I'm not that fond of Ant Man but it's totally fine it you want to add him in.)
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You probably seen my writing around and I swear to finish this. I already have a plot down along with who the cast is going to be after a lot of consideration and re reading old comic books. The roster is going to be unexpected (in terms of powers and otherwise) so I hope you like it. It's not beta nor brit picked.
Also OP I hate Ant man too but well...he has a purpose lol.
-----
John Watson recalled tales of his grandmother back when he was a young child; stories about serving with the Americans and witnessing the great hero know as Captain America.
Tales of him as well as the other heroes reached even the United Kingdom, making the youth wide with blue shiny eyes and a small smile on his grandma's lips. Harry would only roll her eyes to conceal her own curiosity, listening near the doorway when she thought nobody would be looking.
She would speak in a hushed voice about helping the wounded and watching in the side lines as the Blue and Red suited male fought against the Red skull as well as the Nazis back then. Her talk motivated John to become a doctor himself, to rush into the heat of battle and defeat his own 'enemies.'
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I love you so much! This is fantastic. Better than fantastic. And I see what you meant about Ant Man.
The powers of each person totally fit them.
Thank you so much for filling this. I can't wait to read more. x
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He thought it would be easy to get his medical degree and 'serve the queen,' but nothing prepared him for the pain, the blood, and the heat.
The blond man would spend hours up at night after grueling combat or watching people bleed under makeshift cots under him just staring at the stars. He wondered if he would crack like a few lost souls did here in the desert or he would finally end up dead.
His answer came many years later when he ended up being ambushed and shot. John couldn't recall much after that besides begging to live, the burning hot pain flicking and snaking its way all over his shoulder and leg, along with the copper taste of blood.
The doctor seemed to talk as if his voice was muffled in front of him; about how he couldn't use his hands anymore, his nerves been damaged and a 'new opportunity' with some kind of serum that the UK was developing with SHIELD to make him 'useful.' John only nodded and gave his consent since he felt like he reached rock bottom at this point.
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------
John woke up with a start; gasping and fists flying like a fish out of water. He ended up being tangled in the duvet and fell to the side of the bed.
"Hell..." He groaned weakly, trying to kick start his brain along with getting his nerves back to check. 'A dream...only a dream.'
He wasn't in the desert anymore. No more experiments. No more doctors poking him with various kinds of vials and seeing which ones worked or not. No he had a home here with a mad genius who considered himself a 'consulting detective.'
When Mike told him about a bloke that couldn't find a flatmate due to 'misfortune circumstances' of them leaving, John was leery at first but decided to jump right on it when he ran into 'tall dark and cheeky' at St. Bart's.
A cross between amazed and amused at the man's deductions he ended up being whisked away into crimes as well as danger.
"Like I don't have enough." John finally managed to untangle himself from the duvet, blond hair astray on his head. He kept it short after the discharge and just in case he had to put on a mask.
John sat up, leaving half of the sheets on the floor, and rolled his shoulder. The tendons and nerves were off but he could work with them.
John put on a robe and walked down the short trek from his room to the sitting area. No violin playing, no experiments, no stone statue of a man on the couch. Total silence.
The blond former solider didn't enjoy it and scanned the area; finding a small post it note on the fridge.
'Went to do a case for the Yard. We also need milk so make sure to pick some up along with pickle juice.'
SH
John rubbed the bridge of his nose, already having a headache coming. He told Sherlock that any case that required him in person to either go with John or another kind of back up since they would always end up going wrong.
He still remembered the time that they chased down one robber and John almost ended up being blind sided by a fly away piece of wood from a construction site, slipped on a banana peel, and was almost hit by a car. Or the one and only time that John witness Sherlock driving a car to catch another criminal and they flipped not once but twice and almost crashed into said poor woman.
'For some reason danger is attracted to Sherlock.' John decided to eat some toast, skipping his cup of tea, and washing quickly so he could catch up to Sherlock before the Yard or someone else ended up damaged.
"Most likely me." He mumbled darkly, thanking God that he had supernatural powers. The only good thing that the war gave him, despite being a double edge sword.
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His parents were free spirited but intelligent people. His mother a professor and his father a businessman. They were jolly, down to earth, but otherwise strict.
So to have not one but two genius level children were not beyond their means but overwhelming. It didn't help that Sherlock ended up being born a mutant.
His parents didn't know, oh no, neither did Mycroft because his powers were as unorthodox as himself.
Sherlock would cause 'chaos' sort to speak. Catastrophes, misfortunes, death. Incidents that weren't obvious but could be shrugged off as coincidences.
He discovered through grueling trials that it would only happen when he was upset. His brother Mycroft accidentally being burned by splattering grease while his mother made dinner after discovering him eating his favourite snack. A bookcase falling on a teacher that refused to admit he was right on a mathematical matter. He couldn't seem to delete the one incident that caused a school bus to crash horribly due to a few boys bullying him when he first started schooling. Prompting his parents to drive him and keep a regard on his well being.
Sherlock wondered did his brother believe him to be a mutant or only saw what he wanted to see. He never asked and honestly he didn't want to know. He refused to call it 'magic' but having full control over chaos and probability was discording and beyond the means of science.
Frustrating.
He tried to control his ability and found out that he could use it to make positive results, either with math calculations of the probabilities or by mental focus. His father succeeding in a business deal. His mother finding a few pounds on the ground. Mycroft sharing his dessert with him.
Still Sherlock didn't have full control over his powers which prompted him to find outside matters.
He first went to Doctor Strange and after arrangements (with a little subterfuge) only spent a whole week with the man before he dismissed him as a foolish poppy cock idiot at the age of sixteen.
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'Highly likely.' A young Sherlock Holmes snorted as he continued to read the latest snipped material of information under the bed in his home.
He found out about SHIELD through his research and contemplated on how to crack into their databases. With a few strings he ended up being in the SHIELD operated base of Baskerville in the west country by using the excuse that he knew his brother Mycroft and was going on a 'field trip.'
Ironically it worked. Thank his bumbling brother for having interest in working as MI6.
The teenage Sherlock tried played off as an inquisitive sixteen year old, wide eyed but innocent. It worked for the most part, with his curly black hair being noticed by the opposite sex and his mysterious every changing eyes also a hit.
His brother wasn't fooled though and Sherlock knew he had limited time as he tried to find a main database that was connected to the branch console computer. Of course as always when things could go wrong they did go wrong.
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An explosion from the result of his probability powers caused a chain reaction. The teenager tried to contain it, to change the probability of the situation of chaos but the situation distracted him further.
Death. Bodies all around. Scientists and doctors were laid out in their own blood as well as other fluids. It reminded Sherlock of the bus incident all over again. The children screaming all because of him. Arms and other pieces all over the floor and windows because of him.
Him.
He sucked in the panic from his nerves and swallowed down the bile rising to his mouth. Sherlock tried to concentrate, to contain the experiment from having a nuclear reaction in the next room to change the probability to something positive.
'Workdamnitworkdamnitworkdamnit.'
The black haired teen gritted his teeth as it grew more and more out of control, not realizing that his brother tackled him away until it was too late.
-----
When Sherlock awoke he found himself in a medical room; spartan except for a lone bed as well as a medical machine humming next to him.
He knew he remain unharmed without even looking down at himself. His powers always grant him such a luxury. No other things would suffer in his wake or pay the price.
People. Objects. Buildings. Something.
Two soldiers approached him, coming in from the white bolted door and Sherlock tried to deduce them, to answer their questions with half lies but he knew they knew. They were SHIELD'S dogs after all. He picked it up by their stance as well as the uniform that the bald one wore.
"Where is my brother?"
The men didn't say anything and Sherlock feared the worse, that his powers killed off someone he cared about. Someone close.
He tried not to weep he really did but the tears ended up falling anyway; head bowed and fist balled up.
-----
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------
He didn't see his brother Mycroft again until weeks later; the man heavily bandaged up and escorted to their home by SHIELD ops. The ginger haired man was tight lipped from that day on and Sherlock knew. The look on his face showed it all.
'My fault. It is all my fault.'
Sherlock vowed to never get involved with another person, to not have them close to him again. His wish ended up being partly granted when Mycroft left him behind, only keeping in contact in the shadows.
------
Sherlock sucked in the cigarette he managed to steal from one of the officer's pockets.
'Why am I recalling such sentimental feelings now?'
Sherlock knew why. John Watson. The ex medical army veteran that was current housed in the same vicinity as himself.
When Mike Stamford approached Sherlock the detective was leery. He didn't want another flatmate; not fully control over his powers. Sherlock tried everything, drugs and what not, and found that the Work was the only solution. When his mind wandered so did his powers so he needed something to keep it in check.
Unfortunately the Yard would give him cases that were not suitable for his mind so it would end up having his powers emerge. Like on his last female roommate before he met John.
'She should be happy that her pubic hairs can grow back as well as the hair on her head.'
Surprising John Watson seem slightly immune to his powers for some reason. Outside of a few injuries he didn't seem to be in any permanent mental nor physical harm. No incidents in the flat, no explosions, nothing so far that would be a hassle. Sherlock prepared himself regardless; to make sure he wouldn't feel pain when John left or met his demise.
He told himself he would not go through sentiment. Not after seeing the look on his brother's face those years ago; as if he was a monster to be feared.
The black haired male breathed in another drag before blowing out a wisp of smoke. He watched lazily, already bored, as he waited for John to show up eventually.
Lestrade had another case for him but so far it seemed like a five at the most. A heist of metals as well as machines from a former associate of his from the university he attended for one year.
One year because the teachers were so boring and stupid. One year because he almost burnt the school down after arguing with one Sebastian Wilkes.
'I should had burnt the school down; maybe then I wouldn't have to work for Sebastian again.' He saw John approach in the distance and stubbed out his fag. Sherlock knew the doctor would know but it was smoking or experimenting with his powers on the fool Anderson and he would rather do the former than the later.
No matter how much he would enjoy it.
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Instead of hen picking he decided to put both feet into the topic of the case. "So what is it this time? You didn't go over the details before you left."
Sherlock attempted to speak until a whoosh and a voice pipped up near his ear. "Hey John. Stolen metals from the Wilkes corporation." When did he show up? John couldn't get used to how the DI would run over so quickly and/or surprise the two so inconveniently.
It seemed to be that Sherlock was used to it because he didn't even flinch.
'Wilkes? You mean Sebastian Wilkes? That bloke that me and Sherlock helped a while back? I didn't know he had more than banks under his name.'
John watched how his flat mate froze at the mention of that name; nose turned up, those gray eyes of his seeming to change colors rapidly with a surge of emotions before settling on their neutral tone. "Lestrade you must eat your meal near my ear with such a loathsome manner?"
The gray haired man only shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat his egg and cheese bap he got from Tesco's. "Some of us enjoy to eat three meals a day Sherlock."
John had to hold back a smirk at how Sherlock tried not to roll his eyes until Lestrade finally parted, speaking again.
"A rare metal was stolen from the Wilkes corporation."
"Really."
"Yes really." At this Sherlock did roll his eyes. He walked over to where the police were situated at; a run of the mill building that looked like a wreaking ball hit the good front of it; material and bricks laying haphazardly along with tap. "Adamantium to be precise."
The blond male paused at that, his gait not halting. 'The same material used for Captain American's shield?' Who would use that? No more precise why would Wilkes make the stuff in England of all things in such a run down and out in the open shop.
John glanced at his roommate to see if he would comment but sadly he didn't. He wasn't sure if Sherlock had no idea who the Captain was or chose to ignore it.
"From the damage and the wear on the bricks it looks like the person escaped from the inside of the building rather than break in from the outside.
"Escaped? Are you telling me that this place housed something besides the metals?"
"Precisely John! The police have been a stupid nuisance as usual and refuse to let me question the caretaker here; deciding to question the man himself before I arrived. Botching evidence as usual!"
John peered into the hole; besides the metals missing it looked like a regular storage house. There wasn't any other machines nor items out of sorts besides the giant hole near the end of the facility. "Sherlock are you sure it wasn't somethings not something."
"No John, one, singular." Sherlock went near his flat mate and pointed towards the ground. "The indention of the dirt here," and he pointed towards another spot, "And here shows something of two feet came out of here. There's also markings of the dragging of a metal box from the residue I picked up earlier; shavings."
"Brilliant." Sherlock peered up at that and John coughed in his hand. He needed to stop doing that even though it pleased the man.
Then suddenly something ran over. "John? John Watson?" A new trainee police officer came towards the two. "You dropped this. Someone found it laying on the ground and noticed it was yours from the ID."
"Oh Ta." John inspected the contents right after the young man left, expecting to find pounds or at least his cards missing and discovered that he had more money than he put in here. A lot more. "The bloody hell...?"
"Coincidence of a good samaritan." John missed how Sherlock's ears turned pink as he hid in his scarf.
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