sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXV

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Prompting Part XXXV

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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.)

Seconded! like major.

P.S. Frack you fracking British Fracks getting to see Captain AMERICA before we Americans

*GRABBY. HANDS.*

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*

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) - 2014-04-21 13:49 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Same writer anon

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-23 22:01 (UTC) - Expand

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.'

Hello! I'm so, so sorry that I haven't messaged before. Major internet issues.=(

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

-----

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.

No matter how much he would enjoy it.

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.

The pacing for this story is really weird but I have no idea how to make it slower or draw it out. I'll see if I can de-anon and post it on A03 later on once its done.

----

The two went home after doing their initial investigation to go over facts, Sherlock not able to find any more evidence at the site in question.

What did surprise the two was Mycroft Holmes in Sherlock's main room, sipping on tea and eating what seemed to be those special chocolate biscuits that John bought the other day on the sofa. His umbrella sat near by along with a case; in reach.

John raised a blond brow at the gall of the elder Holmes while Sherlock only gave one look at his brother before marching over to where his violin laid. The doctor shook his head and decided to make himself situated as well; shedding his coat and getting the kettle in the kitchen.

"No Sherlock, not this time. I have something of a grave importance." Mycroft put his cup and saucer down and retrieved a stack of files from his suitcase. Sherlock ignored him and started to make that horrid noise from such a beautiful instrument.

"Not interested in one of your cases."

"Not a case..." Mycroft winced as the noise grew louder. "William Scott Sherlock Holmes!"

Sherlock paused at his full name and John stood there, mouth open, kettle in his hands. The silence spoke in volumes.

"So Sherlock isn't your first name...?" John couldn't believe the irony. He still recalled the times that Sherlock attempted to derive his middle name and now lo and behold he knew that Sherlock preferred his own middle name rather than his first name. 'Too common probably.' John thought mentally with a laugh.

Sherlock's eyes flashed and he seemed to breath as if he was counting backwards. He slowly put his violin back in the case and walked over to his chair, dramatically flopping on it like a perturbed angry kid with his feet up on the arm and an arm covering his eyes.

The air crackled with hostility that John didn't like so he quickly made his cuppa and went over in his own chair, trying to defuse the situation. "So what brings you here? You said it was important."

Mycroft glanced at his brother as if he expected something and breathed when nothing happened. John found that strange. "Yes, it seems to be that the case you are working on is now being taken over by the government and SHIELD."

"Wait what?" At that Sherlock removed his arm away from his eyes, more curious now. "Why is SHIELD involved in a heist? And why would you be here for something that the government can easily work over?"

"Dr. John H Watson I hate to inform you but you are being enlisted by the government and her majesty once more."

"No I refuse." John didn't want to go back to the war. He had a hard time during and after with the horrible experiments. Even with being an adrenaline junkie and at times a gambler he would rather work with a berk of a roommate rather than anything else.

"You don't really have an option in this matter considering that you are the only person who ended up a success in the New Solider Project. We need all the help we can get with the machine that Wilkes bestowed on England."

John pressed his lips together, hoping that Mycroft wouldn't mention that. He wanted to keep that part of his life out of this one. Sherlock picked up on it quickly, sitting up on the chair and leaning in.

"New Solider Project? What do you mean? Does John have the abilities of Captain America and other imitations?"

Well that answered John's question from earlier if Sherlock knew about mutants as well as superheroes.

"Yes. Your flatmate here has all of the abilities of America's Captain with slight modifications. As you know he does suffer from PTSD and a psychosomatic limp but his body is hundreds or even thousands percent better than the average human. Mr. Watson has a better immunity system, better healing, strength, speed, and abilities."

Sherlock sat there for the first time gobsmacked; eyes wide and in confusion as the information clicked in place. That would explain why John almost never had a cold and it didn't last, why John wouldn't end up in wear and tear from their cases, and why John isn't as boring like everyone else.

John didn't feel proud about bringing out such a look from his flat mate; instead it settled on his stomach badly.

"You honestly didn't know?" Mycroft remained emotionless outside of a curious eyebrow raise towards his brother. He then handed a stack of papers towards John, which he took and glanced over. "So you as well as a few others in the documents are going to be enlisted temporary or semi permanently together to defeat this menace and any other problems."

"Wait, Wait, Wait. This list is most of the blokes and people we know...." Sherlock snapped out of his stupor and glanced over at John's papers. "Mrs. Hudson? Are you serious?"

Sherlock smacked his lips together, eyes still in shock. Mycroft nodded his head. "Yes she's the reincarnation of a Valkyrie but she also has mutant powers as well. Magic along with genes I'm afraid." Mycroft noticed the look John had and squashed his concerns. "No she doesn't work for me or the government but she knows about you and Sherlock."

"What do you mean me and Sherlock?" Before Mycroft could reply Sherlock got up quickly and snatched the stack of papers from John's fingers. He stood over him, reading quickly.

"Anderson?! What the bloody hell does he have?" Sherlock snarled out and Mycroft explained slowly; regarding his younger sibling.

"He created a special type of suit to control his powers I'm afraid. He's been on board for a while now along with DI Sally Donovan."

John couldn't believe; bumbling Anderson made a suit? He always assumed that the man was a bit not there and headstrong. The fact that Mycroft implied that he shared intelligence along with Sherlock made the whole situation even more surreal.

"So everyone knows about this but me then? Everyone has powers....and you had people to spy on me that were involved..."

John felt his nerves stood on end for some reason; Sherlock's tone of voice seemed eery. Mycroft pressed his lips together but nodded.

"Yes even Molly but brother I didn't-"

The light bulbs suddenly exploded around and John jumped to the ground along with Mycroft; considering an attack. What shocked him was that it seemed to be for the first time he observed something he never noticed before.

Sherlock's eyes flashed and changed color and he seemed to glow red. His shirt and pants billowed and a type of force seemed to radiate from his body. Mycroft seemed to be on edge too as if he knew this would happen.

Sherlock growled his eyes settling on the blues that John would see at rare times. "DamnyouDamnyouDamnyouDamnyou!" He grabbed his coat and scarf and ran out of the door; not bothering to close it as his form vanished down the stairs.

John sat on the floor; staring at where his flat mate parted. Mycroft sighed and got into a sitting position.

"Can you please tell me more what the bloody hell is going on?"

After cleaning up the shattered glass as well as the overall mess, John finally settled down along with Mycroft once more. The British government insisted on John getting a cuppa so without hesitation he resumed his task on getting one; barely touching it.

Mycroft in question seen better days. He retained a majority of his mask but ebbs of it cracked away, making him seem older than being in his mid thirties. His hair fell out of its normal style; parts of it ghosting his forehead.

"I suggest we start this from the beginning Dr. Watson no matter how much it pains me to do so."

----

Mycroft regrets that he disregarded the saying "To observe not only to see." He saw his younger brother Sherlock as somewhat of an eccentric prodigy; similar but different than himself. Stupid in some regards.

What he didn't see was Sherlock's own inter turmoil; too involved with his own ambitions.

His parents were a combination of being smart and somewhat strange so they often left the two children to their own devices.

They enjoyed superheroes and understood the rights of mutants but also found them interesting. Mycroft on the other hand didn't share the same sentiment although he did find such people to be more useful when manipulated.

So to not notice his own brother as a mutant made the man when he reached adulthood appalled, out put, and have a sense of indignité. He could had made Sherlock into a great man who could control his powers; both brothers working together to improve England. He had suspicions yes but never stone evidence that the misfortunes that involved his little brother was due to his powers.

Instead the boy ended up being scared and defiant when he finally realized the truth; off put and protecting his heart from everyone, even his own family.

Mycroft learned of such things when Sherlock ended up at the Baskerville research facility moderated by SHIELD. He didn't enjoy how they were still running the New Solider Project; trying to outdo the American's own feats of creating a man beyond expectations. He couldn't voice his opinion, not yet of course. The ginger young man was only 'slightly wet behind the ears' and he needed to ensnare more of the other officials before he could make way.

He kept an eye on his brother but for the experiment to go wrong, when it had been going correctly without fault, so unexpected made him realize that the horrible bus crash that injured and killed a few students years ago had been Sherlock's doing. The time that the man that worked with father ended up with horrible food poisoning who called Mycroft and Sherlock 'posh looking arrogant children who should know their place.' There was no such thing as a coincidence on that strain of massive level.

Sherlock tried, oh he tried so hard to control the incident but it didn't work so Mycroft put himself in danger to save his brother. Unfortunately his sibling's powers seemed to cause chaos to everyone but himself in question so Mycroft ended up being contaminated by the isotope that they used for the new experimental serum.

He couldn't recall much after that despite his photographic memory. It felt like a horrible nightmare when SHIELD informed him that his brother was an Omega level class incident and had to be contained. That his little brother was dead.

All he could hear was the ringing of blood in his ears, the rage that radiated through his bloodstream and his nerves. Mycroft remembered demolishing a good part of the facility, of smashing everything, trying to find a body, taking revenge.

'Smash, Smash, SMASH!'

When he awoke again he ended up in another area unknown to him without any injures; his body as pristine as before.

His boss at the time entered the room with him rather than SHIELD ops, informing him that he had a full time job working for the government of England; SIS. The man seemed solemn as he spoke but Mycroft could see the fear in his eyes, the wearily sweat on his brow as if he didn't want to be in the same room as the young man.

The ginger haired man felt as if a weight was semi lifted from his form because didn't feel so isolated from Sherlock anymore mentally; having one thing in common.

They were both considered abominations.

Going to de anon and upload this on A03. I have the next chapter already set up. I still haven't found a beta nor a brit pic yet but I'll continued to do it regardless.

Disregard that last post. I'm just going to post it her as well as A03. I meant to say that I'm going to try to clean it up and expand certain parts when I de anon so it flows better.

I overslept so my brain isn't working on full output.

----

John blinked near the end of the tale; trying to register Sherlock's powers in his mind. "His ability is to change the probability of anything?"

"Yes. If Sherlock wanted to he could make you the wealthiest and the most powerful man in the world Mr. Watson. If he had the desire he could ruin anyone's life, or even the whole nation's lives."

"I'm surprised SHIELD or the government didn't keep him isolated." He glanced at Mycroft, for the first time having a sort of respect for the man. Despite constantly spying on them, manipulating other people, and using folks as pawns he cared deeply for his brother enough to make sure the man didn't end up being seized or turned into a government experiment.

"They tried in the past, unfortunately, which didn't result in the best." Mycroft tried not to recall the time that Sherlock endeavor towards recreational uses and drugs in a desperate means to calm his inner turmoil. The government nipped it in the bud quickly; 'attempted' to detox and keep him confined, which was the worse solution possible.

Mycroft didn't enjoy the person that went over his power and ignored his best wishes; complaining about 'sentiment misguiding him and a threat' and put him in a separate section of restriction himself. The man preached to the higher ups about Mycroft's ability and his mental judgement and tried to get him dismissed so he would claim his job.

The end result ended up being a good part of the mutant/hero research facility demolished. Sherlock, bored and in the throes of hallucinations, powers fluctuated out of place. Random liquids, women being caught from infidelities, to making a poor orderly break down in a mental break down and quit.

Of course the ginger haired male also had a part in it as well, the first time he enjoyed being in rage; destroying his cell and pretty much thousands of pounds in equipment. They may have tighten his pseudo leash but he remain in power despite of it. To have something join rather than fight against it.

"Regardless it is with great urgency that we catch up to my brother." Mycroft sat up from the sofa; umbrella and suitcase in hand. John joined him at a much quicker pace; making sure he had his coat and gun with him before he headed towards the doorway.

"Do you have any idea where he could have gone to?"

Mycroft tried to feign aloofness but he had an inkling. The problem is he had no idea what he would find when they reached there.

----
Disregard that last post. I'm just going to post it her as well as A03. I meant to say that I'm going to try to clean it up and expand certain parts when I de anon so it flows better.

I overslept so my brain isn't working on full output.

----

Mycroft, briefed and sworn to secrecy, arrived at his home for a final time. The bandages were to fool his parents since a majority of the people from the Baskerville experiment ended up in critical condition or worse.

Sherlock, hovering near the door, approached him covered in a few wrappings as well as a cut on his nose. Superficial considering the catastrophe.

Those gray eyes took him in and Mycroft saw the open end emotions pouring from them; how Sherlock's face fell. How his brother's pupil colors changed so rapidly that it almost gave the ginger haired man a headache.

They finally settled on a passive green; lifeless of any emotions. Mycroft watched as his brother's heart started to close its way off and he barely greeted his brother before parting.

----

John blinked near the end of the tale; trying to register Sherlock's powers in his mind as well as everything Mycroft told him. 'That would explain why their relationship is so bad.' "His ability is to change the probability of anything?"

"Yes. If Sherlock wanted to he could make you the wealthiest and the most powerful man in the world Mr. Watson. If he had the desire he could ruin anyone's life, or even the whole nation's lives."

"I'm surprised SHIELD or the government didn't keep him isolated." He glanced at Mycroft, for the first time having a sort of respect for the man. Despite constantly spying on them, manipulating other people, and using folks as pawns he cared deeply for his brother enough to make sure the man didn't end up being seized or turned into a government experiment.

"They tried in the past, unfortunately, which didn't result in the best." Mycroft tried not to recall the time that Sherlock endeavor towards recreational uses and drugs in a desperate means to calm his inner turmoil. The government nipped it in the bud quickly; 'attempting' to detox and keep him confined, which was the worse solution possible.

Mycroft didn't enjoy the person that went over his power and ignored his best wishes; complaining about 'sentiment misguiding him and a threat' and put him in a separate section of restriction himself. The man preached to the higher ups about Mycroft's ability and his mental judgement and tried to get him dismissed so he would claim his job.

The end result ended up being a good part of the mutant/hero research facility demolished. Sherlock, bored and in the throes of hallucinations, powers fluctuated out of place. Random liquids, women being caught from infidelities, to making a poor orderly break down in a mental break down and quit.

Of course the ginger haired male also had a part in it as well, the first time he enjoyed being in rage; destroying his cell and pretty much thousands of pounds in equipment. They may have tighten his pseudo leash but he remain in power despite of it. To have something (himself) join them rather than fight against it.

"Regardless it is with great urgency that we catch up to my brother." Mycroft sat up from the sofa; umbrella and suitcase in hand. John joined him at a much quicker pace; making sure he had his coat and gun with him before he headed towards the doorway.

"Do you have any idea where he could have gone to?"

Mycroft tried to feign aloofness but he had an inkling. The problem is he had no idea what he would find when they reached there.

You really are brilliant. I'm really enjoying this. =)

I accidentally double posted the same chapter twice because Livejournal derped up. Could you delete the first one for me for the 12th part?

I don't have a beta still. Someone was kind enough to point it out even after I mentioned it but it doesn't discourage me.

If anyone is interested let me know.

Sorry about the late chapter. I lost motivation then I had to work 12 hour shifts in between.

----

For the first time in Sherlock's life he had apprehension.

The ideal of John leaving him, joining up with whatever the British Government offered made him seethe; his powers rising up along with his emotions. He squashed both down as he approached Bart's, grinding his teeth in frustration.

Sherlock wanted to get away from his problems as well as his wide girth brother so what better way than to immerse with experiments. His powers did have that option; he could modify results or change the probability of occurrences within atoms and formulas to something extraordinary. He could make the impossible, possible. It was the closest thing to settling his mind much like the puzzles within cases.

The disaster from using drugs last time left a bitter taste in his mouth. He did not want to end up in isolation again.

"Molly!" He yelled as he reached the morgue, his coat billowing. Nothing. No noise, no small mousy squeak, silence.

Sherlock fiddled with the collar of his coat and debated. 'Did that woman use her powers at her work place of all things?'

The detective wouldn't put it past her. The ability to shrink in size and communicate with insects is a useful one. Sherlock almost felt jealous because he wouldn't mind having such a skill so he could communicate with bees.

He ventured in with precaution, crouching down on his hands and knees and crawling, least he avoid squashing the poor woman under his foot. "Molly." Sherlock hissed out, hoping that the woman would pick up the vibration with her antennae. He found a shiny gem; 'Earring.' He labeled but not pathologist.

A small 'eek' alerted him and he scooted over to the noise. Molly appeared in his line of vision soon after, the same height as a small bee or wasp.

"Sherlock how in the world did you find me?" She had on her lab coat, a pair of jeans, crocs, as well as a dark turtle neck sweater, twittering her fingers together.

Sherlock weighed the idea of explaining himself and having someone other than his brother and John knowing about his powers. He decided it wouldn't hurt since she would find out sooner or later and Molly wasn't one of those foolish anti mutant activists.

"Probability." The detective mumbled under his breath. "If an occurrence has a 0.00001% chance I can make it happen to any type of measurement, from fifty to one hundred percent if I so desire."

Molly didn't understand but Sherlock having any kind of power amazed her. "Wow."

Sherlock turned up his nose. "'Wow?' That is all your simple mind could come up with?" He gentled seized her into his palm, making her squeal once more.

Sherlock went to his feet slowly and let Molly rest on his open palm. "The question is what are you doing using your powers in the morgue where anyone could find you?"

"I..." Molly tittered nervously again and circled her index fingers, not looking Sherlock in the face. "I lost one of my earrings and I thought it would be a good idea to go small and find it." She didn't consider someone could find her because of her size.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I have your earring." He changed topics quickly; observing her curiously. "Molly where are your antennae?"

Molly blinked and touched her head out of reflex. "I...I don't like to keep them out; they look weird." She cocked her head. "How do you know I had such things?"

Mycroft and John ran up the stairs to the morgue in Bart's, hoping that Sherlock remain at zero collateral damage, assuming the worse from the dark haired male. Instead they find Sherlock debating with Molly over outfits of all things.

"But...But I don't want to have them out! They're embarrassing!"

"They're suitable. You appear to have the looks of a bee, a worker bee at that. I can't tell off hand if you have the coloring of a solitary or a communal insect."

"Wait you think they're cute?" Molly gave Sherlock what could be a shy look, if he squinted really hard. Sherlock brighten and the former solider knew that look of manipulation and chose that time to step in.

"Ok that's enough you two. What would of happened if someone other than us walked in talking to what appeared to be yourself."

"It was obviously considering that you two would follow me to make sure the leash is still on."

"Oh Sherlock its not like that." John shook his head and tugged on his flatmate's scarf. Sherlock frowned at his form but John gave him a reassuring smile, which settled his nerves. "Come on you berk let's go with your brother and see what he has to say."

-------------

The four of them drove in an unmarked black limo to what appeared to be a base similar to Baskerville near the palace.

They traveled underground, making John remind him of one of those James Bond movies with the secret lair, before they reached a base. Well what appeared to be a base. It only contained a steel door as well as rank smelling earth beneath them.

"Temporary repose." Mycroft said as he slid a key card through the only slot near the door. "The others are down the way." A narrow walkway revealed itself and they walked down, John in the back with Sherlock and Molly near Mycroft in the front. The moment didn't last as someone came running halfway and meeting them.

"Oh is this him?" A familiar face revealed itself and John stood there flabbergasted along with Molly.

"What in the word are you doing here?" Mycroft sounded a cross between bored and amused. "I kindly told you to wait with the others."

"Sherlock Holmes!" The forensic scientist of the Yard stopped near the detective. He ignored Mycroft's comment and came up to the two men with all teeth. Anderson wore a long lab coat and seemed to have a bunch of contraptions on his person. He still appeared the same in John's eyes except now he had on a full beard.

"Anderson." Sherlock snarled out with barely restraint, hands in his coat pockets. "It does not please me to see you."

"I know we went off the wrong start but I couldn't be more impressed to see you here!"

'I know Sherlock mentioned Anderson but it amazes me that him of all people could be a potential hero.' John stared at how one man seemed to gush in awe and the other tried to ignore him in a rude and standoffish manner.

Anderson either brushed it off or refused to take it to heart. "I heard you had the ability to change fate itself! Such a remarkable power! I wonder does it influence your deductions? I mean if I had that ability instead of-"

John watched as Anderson fell over his own two feet on his face from what seemed to be nothing while Sherlock continued to pace forward to catch up with his brother.

"Did he-?" Anderson rose his head up, eyes amazed and dazed. The doctor shook his head and helped up the poor man.

"Yes." John rolled his eyes at the blatant fanboyism when Anderson smiled brightly and ran up to catch them, the other scientist trailing in the rear.

Hello! OP again. I just wanted to tell you that this is really great and I love that Molly has Wasp's power.
Thanks again for filling it. =)

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