Love of Heaven and Hell

People Can Be Weirder Than Monsters

When John woke up Sherlock was gone, he didn't know where, and he had a sense of momentary panic that he had left in anger when he heard the sink turn on. John sighed in relief, at least he hadn't left.
"Sherlock, you okay?" he called out, just in case.
"No, the toilet ate me. I am dead now, talking to you from the spirit world." Sherlock said in a misty voice.
"Don't joke like that in this type of world. There actually is a spirit world, and most of the time the sprits don't just talk." John pointed out. He heard an exasperated sigh, and Sherlock opened the door.
"Stubborn once again." he decided, throwing a bundle of his pajamas at his bed. He was now fully dressed and ready for the day. John found this odd, he was always the first one up, so he rolled out of bed and tried to look like he's been up for a while.
"I'm not stubborn." John defended.
"He said stubbornly." Sherlock sighed.
"Shut up." John snapped, trying to comb out his tangled blonde hair and look somewhat decent.
"So, breakfast?" Sherlock asked.
"I was just going to suggest that we get going all together, don't we need to get to New York?" John asked.
"I think this is New York." Sherlock said.
"So we're staying?" John asked.
"If it's okay with you." Sherlock decided.
"Fair enough. See, a stubborn person would want to keep driving, but I, being a saint, said no, you can choose even to much personal risk." John pointed out.
"What the heck does personal risk mean?" Sherlock asked with a laugh.
"It means that, by making a decision, I'm putting myself in harm's way, heroically." John pointed out, putting his hand on his forehead and sighing loudly, as if in one of those stupid dramas or something.
"Let's add drama queen to the list then." Sherlock decided.
"Wait, oh come on!" John groaned. Sherlock just laughed and pulled his jacket on.
"I was joking. Kind of. Come on, let's go eat." He decided. "But I drive." He decided.
"Wait, what?" John asked, scrambling after Sherlock into the parking lot. The keys were dangling from his pretty little thumb, hanging high into the sky. John took a running start and leapt at them, but Sherlock only turned and John was only flying through the air hopelessly.
"Oh come on, this isn't fair!" he defended as he jumped up as far as he could to try to get the keys.
"What a shame you're so short." Sherlock said with a laugh, holding the keys up higher once more. John was on his tiptoes, grabbing at them helplessly. Sherlock was laughing, like a bully on the playground.
"Come on, it's my bloody car!" John pointed out, wanting to go get a step ladder or something. In the end he just kicked out both of Sherlock's knees, making him fall onto the street and wrestling the keys from his cold dead fingers. John sighed with satisfaction and Sherlock was still laughing, so he got into the driver's seat and revved up the engine.
"If you don't move I'll run you over!" John warned, honking the horn a couple of times. Sherlock was still laying on the ground, he could see him ever so slightly, flailing around like a fish out of the water.
"What a way to say you care!" Sherlock called with a laugh. John went forward the slightest bit and heard Sherlock howl with fear, jumping to his feet and scrambling into the passenger seat with a large smile on his face.
"You're a real clown John." Sherlock snapped.
"Shut up." he growled, accelerating very skittishly and sending Sherlock flying into the windshield.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Sherlock decided as he rubbed a new formed lump on his forehead.
"You better be sorry." John sighed.
"Are you still mad about last night?" Sherlock asked.
"I'm not mad about last night; I've just got a lot on my mind at the moment." John pointed out.
"You kind of made it sound like you were going to die, that I was the only one who would remember you, why is that?" Sherlock asked.
"Because hunters don't have long life spans, so you should get out as fast as you can and start running." John advised.
"Ya, no chance of that sunshine. Who's going to look after you?" Sherlock asked.
"I don't need anyone to look after me." John grumbled.
"Then who's going to keep you company?" Sherlock asked.
"I don't know, my shadow, what I'm saying is that I'm far from worth getting killed over!" John pointed out.
"You're worth it to me." Sherlock decided.
"Well that's nice, but I don't need anyone to live." John pointed out. Sherlock sighed, pulling his knees up to his chin once more and looked really upset. John knew that all Sherlock wanted to do was cheer him up, making him smile or laugh, and watch out to make sure he wasn't lonely and he was safe, but right now John wasn't in the laughing mood. Even if it did mean making the best person on Earth frown.
"Where do you want to go eat?" John asked.
"Wherever." Sherlock sighed.
"No, you pick. I'm not going to be stubborn." John pointed out. Sherlock looked up with a small hopeful smile on his face, and John rolled his eyes.
"Don't look at me like that." John pleaded.
"Do my ears deceive me?" Sherlock asked.
"Oh come on Sherlock." John groaned, but hid his newfound smile. "Hurry up before I pick!" John warned.
"Let's go to Burger King, they have cinnamon buns." Sherlock decided after a moment of thought.
"Sometimes you act like you're a grumpy seventy year old, but then again, times like this you seem like you're only five." John decided.
"Is there any in between?" Sherlock asked.
"Rarely." John decided, pulling up to the local Burger King joint. Once they placed their order (with three cinnamon buns) they got it and parked the car in the parking lot, deciding to have their small feast in the car. Sherlock had only gotten two cinnamon buns and hash browns, but John got a burrito, hash browns, and a cinnamon bun, so he was going to be pretty full when it was over. Obviously the cinnamon bun was more than Sherlock could've hoped for, and as he ate it he got icing all over his face, but he looked so happy and excited that it almost made John want to just kiss him right there, get an icing bonus too.
"You're a five year old." John decided.
"And you're a grumpy seventy year old." Sherlock agreed. God, why was Sherlock so beautifully stubborn, always able to make John laugh, why did he love this specimen so much? Sherlock was the definition of beauty at its finest, it was really irritating that he couldn't just kiss him now, get it over with, enjoy his last few days of life. But then again, there were so many reasons why that was a miserable idea. Just because Sherlock was so obviously gay doesn't mean that he would go around kissing every boy in sight, that's not how love works and that's not how people's brain worked. Just because John was in his range of interest didn't mean he was actually interested in him. And besides, Sherlock didn't have a clue that John fancied him, and he had made his dislike for him very clear last night. So what was John to do? Sit here, sit here and watch the love of his life eat cinnamon buns and laugh and then get eaten by hellhounds. John's calendar was pretty pathetic.
"So, what are our plans today?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, I need to go to a herb shop." John decided.
"A what?" Sherlock asked.
"A shop that sells spices and what not, I need devil's shoestring." John decided. Devil's shoestring was a plant that was thought to ward off the devil, so that must mean the Devil himself, his stupid demons, and his rabid dogs. It was the only plan John had at the moment, other than running.
"What do you need that for?" Sherlock asked curiously.
"Oh, um, no reason, just you know, it's usefully to have around." John shrugged.
"Why do I feel like you're hiding something from me?" Sherlock asked.
"What would I have to hide?" John asked with a force laugh. Sherlock just looked at him as if he were crazy, and laughed.
"You have more secrets then World War Two spies." Sherlock decided.
"No I don't." John muttered, but it was true. He had all the secrets, all the stories, illegal secrets as well, stuff that best be kept hidden.
"So, what does this devil's shoestring do?" Sherlock asked.
"It keeps away Demons, it doesn't let them enter." John shrugged.
"I thought our demon friend was here to help?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, he seems to be, but you can never be so sure." John pointed out.
"Yes, that brings me to my next topic of business," Sherlock paused, digging his anti-possession charm out from under his shirt. "I want a more permanent solution, because this can tear off easily."
"Permanent? You mean you're staying in this job?" John asked, amazed.
"Well of course! You didn't think I'd leave you all alone did you?" Sherlock asked with an amused smile that seemed to consume his entire face. Funny though, John was going to leave him all alone soon.
"I don't know, you seemed to...never mind. So you want a tattoo? We can arrange that, I'll get a tattoo gun." John decided.
"Thanks, I really don't want to go through that again." Sherlock decided.
"How'd it feel, being possessed I mean?" John asked.
"It's horrible, cold, you see everything you're doing, but it's foggy, dark, and it's painful, you have no control over your body and it feels like every movement you make is burning through you..." Sherlock shivered with the memory; obviously it wasn't a good flashback moment.
"I'm sorry to hear that." John sighed.
"What, you've never been possessed?" Sherlock asked.
"Nope." John said with a proud smile.
"Well, not a lot of people can say that, I guess." Sherlock muttered, but he didn't look all that convinced.
"Most people would thrust a bible in your hands and lock the door." John corrected.
"Ya, probably." Sherlock agreed.
"Fair enough." John shrugged with a laugh, crumpling up his wrapper into a ball and throwing it onto the ground.
"Alright, let's go find some demon repellent." John decided with a laugh, gunning the engine and pulling out of the parking lot.