I Don't Want To Believe

The Three Musketeers

             "Couldn't you just, I don't know, keep me? Rather than kill me I can stay here the rest of my life, we could eat together, visit each other, I could become one of you people." John offered. Sherlock smiled sadly, as if he wish that were possible, but shook his head.
"John, I have trouble seeing you as a human, much less one of us. It's difficult to look at you and think that you have feelings as well, that you have opinions, and self-esteem, and emotions, but I look at you and honestly you seem no more intelligent than a monkey. Being so evolved, so superior, I often forget that humans are the reason I'm here in the first place." Sherlock admitted.
"So basically you're saying a monkey could never fit in around here? Once it's served its purpose you have to dispose of it." John guessed.
"Well, yes, and I'm not proud of that at all. In fact, if it were up to me, John, I would keep you as a human for the rest of my days, but alas, Mycroft would not have it." Sherlock admitted.
"From what I'm hearing, Mycroft plays a really big role in this ship." John guessed.
"He is head of the sciences back home, they took him along to...well, you'll find out." Sherlock sighed.
"Everyone keeps telling me that." John laughed.
"Well, if you don't understand it at first, I'll be happy to run you through later." Sherlock assured, tightening the cape on John's shoulders once more and spinning the boy around, so that they were now uncomfortably close. John had to crane his neck to meet Sherlock's very vibrant, very confusing eyes, which sparkled under the spotlight.
"I know you'll make me proud." Sherlock decided.
"You don't know me at all." John insisted.
"Mr. Watson, I have watched you for a while now, I've observed you in your natural habitat, you're a good worker, a dedicated athlete and student, you're a good friend, and most of all you're just a brilliant human being. I trust you John, even though you don't know me as well as I know you." Sherlock insisted.
"That's good to know." John agreed.
"Do you trust me?" Sherlock asked. John looked up at his eyes, and his brain said no, of course not. This boy was a psychopath with a serious anger management issue.
"I suppose so." John agreed.
"Then you'll know that I won't put you in any unavoidable danger." Sherlock decided.
"Yes, I should hope not." John muttered. Sherlock stared deeper into John's eyes as if straining to see his soul. He seemed transfixed really, as if the darkest layers of John's cornea were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. His stare made John uncomfortable, as did most things he did, but this was different, there was something different in his eyes, something John barely recognized, something he's never seen in human eyes before.
"John, I..." Sherlock started. At that exact moment the door open, cutting off whatever Sherlock was going to say with the arrival of Molly, who was looking rather guilty.
"Oh, dear, I'm sorry!" she insisted, trying to duck out of the room.
"MOLLY!" Sherlock yelled, making John jump and the door open up once more.
"Yes sir?" She asked fearfully, looking like a very scared kitten. John pitied her; obviously he was going to have to get in the middle of a very verbally violent brawl.
"Come in, obviously you have something to say." Sherlock said rather softly, which was a surprise to John. He was expecting some more screaming.
"Yes, well, the Three Leaders just arrived, we are seating them now." She said quickly.
"So soon?" John asked nervously. Sherlock took a step away from John, the little distance between them suddenly feeling a lot more awkward when another person was in the room.
"Yes, well, I'm sure they're hungry from their trip over." Molly guessed.
"What, you mean...you mean we're still on earth?" John asked hopefully.
"Of course we are silly; we're not sure how you'd react in space." Molly laughed, but covered her mouth at once. "Sorry." She muttered.
"What, is that some sort of spoiler?" John snapped. Sherlock shook his head slightly, but walked over to where his cape lay on the bed, attaching it elegantly to the back of his armor so that the purple fabric draped across his back as well. He looked a lot more powerful when he had the cape on, moving swiftly so that it bellowed around his ankles, he looked like a king. John looked like a desperate cosplayer that sewed a cape out of whatever fabric he could get his hands on, and it made him look like a glorified baked potato than an alien warrior.
"Ready then?" Sherlock asked.
"I suppose so, I guess I have to be." John agreed.
"You'll be fine, don't worry." Molly assured. Sherlock's glare set on her again, and she looked down at the floor in shame.
"Don't be like that Sherlock; she can talk if she wants to." John insisted.
"Oh, so now you're on her side, I knew there was something going on." Sherlock snapped.
"What are you even talking about?" Molly asked with a nervous laugh, as if not wanting to be caught in the middle of whatever delusions Sherlock was having.
"Well, I'm not blind, obviously...never mind, I'll deal with you later, John, we're needed." he decided, holding out his arm for John to take. However, the boy just raised his eyebrows, as if not really wanting to link arms with some alien. Sherlock cleared his throat awkwardly, dropping his arm and storming moodily out the door, pushing past Molly, his cape whipping around behind him.
"Good luck." Molly muttered quietly, and John just smiled nervously at her, scrambling to catch up to Sherlock. He was moving towards the dining room once more, and thankfully John actually knew where to go for that, the only place other than his own prison cell that he knew on this ship. Sherlock was walking very swiftly, pausing a couple of corners down the hall, stopping so abruptly that John nearly ran into him.
"What are you doing?" John asked. Sherlock sighed, patting down John's hair and smoothing out his leather jumpsuit, as if leather actually got wrinkled.
"This is it john, be on your best behavior, don't protest, don't talk unless spoken to, don't do anything stupid. Remember, not only do you represent yourself, but you represent this ship as a whole, and you represent me." Sherlock insisted, patting John once more on the shoulder.
"Ya, okay." John agreed with a forced smile. Sherlock sighed, nodding along with John.
"Yes, okay, thank you. Okay." he agreed, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself more than John. And with that he walked off along the hall, pulling the door open and walking into the dining room. John was expecting some great ensemble, the most impressive three people he's ever seen, trumpets playing, a red carpet rolling out. I mean, it's alien leaders, they must be epic. But when he walked into the dining room, he almost thought that three random people had gotten lost and wandered into the dining room, they looked almost like a joke. The one man, sitting on the left, looked more like a hunky football player than a leader, with dark blonde hair and a crude face. The oldest one, a woman with curly hair was sitting in the middle, a pink cape flowing from the back of her armor. The last one on the right looked a lot like a conman from earth, with dead black eyes and a classy villain haircut. They were extremely underwhelming, but never the less it looked like Sherlock had gotten punched in the stomach with the presence of all three of them. There were a couple of other people in the room, servants with white capes in all four corners, and Mycroft, sitting across from the football player and looking very nervous. All of them stood upon Sherlock's entry, as if he were some noble figure that deserved their respect.
"Your honors, this is my human, John Watson." Sherlock said very formally, dropping into a low bow. John decided that he ought to do the same so, following Sherlock's lead; he dropped into a very stiff, awkward bow.
"Yes, the human, we've heard a lot about you." muttered the creepy man, staring at John through very earthlike spectacles. John straightened up, waiting for Sherlock to take his seat before he was sure he was allowed to, so he sat in the middle of the table, between Mycroft and Sherlock and across from the old lady. If anything, she looked like the friendliest of the bunch, more like a nice grandmother that brought you cookies rather than some big leader.
"So, Mr. Watson, these are our Three Leaders, Mr. Sebastian Moran..." the football player bowed his head in respect, "Mrs. Martha Hudson..." the old lady smiled in recognition, bowing her head as well, "And Mr. Charles Magnussen." Mycroft finished. The creepy man smiled a very unnerving smile, bowing his head slightly, as if he had no respect for a human. "And, Three Leaders, I'm sure you are aware of my brother, Sherlock." Mycroft guessed.
"We've heard a lot about young Sherlock here, a very big part of our operation, from what I've heard, a volunteer." Magnussen agreed. John looked over at Sherlock in shock, wondering what he could have to do with any of this. But of course he couldn't express his confusion, so he stayed silent, wondering if they were even going to eat during this lunch meeting.
"It took some debating and some, compromises, but everything should be in place." Mycroft agreed. John was about to ask what exactly was in place, what exactly was going on in the first place, when the doors opened, and servants marched dramatically in with large platters of food that John didn't recognize at all. Obviously they weren't making an effort to eat like humans, because there were very odd, brown looking meats, roasted things that looked sort of like asparagus, all sorts of odd vegetables and fruits of all different colors, and some things that were just unexplainable, like large chunks of what looked like bread, with mysterious objects floating in them. John looked around the table nervously, desperately looking for something that look sort of edible, but coming up empty handed. There was no human food, nothing that even looked close to it.
"Will I die if I tried to eat this stuff? Could I even digest it?" John whispered to Sherlock, so quietly that he doubted the boy heard him at all.
"You'll be fine." Mr. Moran assured, and John realized that all of the members of the table were watching him, as if they had all heard his concern.
"How did you hear that?" John asked in amazement. All of the aliens laughed, even Sherlock cracked a nervous smile next to him.
"Oh, you funny human, we are more evolved than you can even imagine." Magnussen laughed. John looked around with embarrassment, not liked to be laughed at and called funny. He was a perfectly capable person, he knew how to do math, and tie his shoes, and read, he could probably imagine what they've evolved to if they stopped treating him like a monkey.
"John, you might want to just be quiet for a moment." Sherlock advised, looking rather embarrassed for his sake.
"Ya, alright." John agreed, shuffling uncomfortably in his chair. Everyone started to ladle food onto their plates, picking up meats and other mysterious things from the platters. John, however, found that he wasn't hungry at all, especially since he didn't recognize anything.
"Mr. Watson, I recommend you start with this right here, it's a lot like your earthly ham." Mycroft suggested, poking at a rather pink looking meat. From what John knew about pink meat, it was sure to give him all sorts of unknown alien diseases, but in order to satisfy Mycroft, he took a piece on his fork and examined it.
"Looks...somewhat edible I suppose." He decided. Sherlock chuckled beside him, but stopped abruptly as to make sure the leaders didn't think he actually thought John was amusing.
"So, enough of the small talk, is it ready for tomorrow?" Magnussen asked, his eyes flashing with interest.
"Yes sir." Mycroft agreed. John looked at Sherlock in confusion, the only person here that he trusted enough to tell him what is going on. Or at least get the ball rolling.
"Why don't we inform Mr. Watson on just what he is taking part of." Sherlock decided.
"You haven't told him anything yet?" Mycroft asked.
"You told me not to, I kept my mouth shut." Sherlock insisted. The two brothers eyed each other dangerously, as if they were deciding what method of torture they would most like you use on one another. The Three Leaders all looked at each other, as if deciding what to say and who to say it, but Moran opened his mouth first, the first time John had heard him speak.
"Mr. Watson, you are by now aware of our origin, our evolution, and our rise to supremacy, am I correct?" he asked in a rough voice. John nodded rapidly, wondering what in the world (well, worlds I suppose) they could possibly be getting at.
"Well, we are superior in nearly everyway, but evolution has created some flaws, some things, some dominant genes, that are only found in humans, that we need to make the ultimate being." Moran finished.
"What could us monkeys possibly have that you need?" John asked, not sarcastically, but seriously. After all this boasting about being better, John was surprised they needed anything from humans.
"Well, humans lack certain empathies we do not, they have the ability to reason, to deceive, to care for the innocent, when we have been programed to live among the harsh land we were born into. Humans have a sense of well, humanity, that was pushed aside on the evolutionary road of survival. And we need that, to make the best warrior, best living creature this universe has ever seen, the Alpha Male." Magnussen finished dramatically.
"The...Alpha Male?" John asked doubtfully, raising his eyebrows in confusion.
"Yes, and you will provide the humanity." Mrs. Hudson agreed.
"And, who exactly will be providing the...not human?" John asked, not quite sure what this race of aliens called themselves.
"Well, Mr. Watson, you and Mr. Holmes are to create the Alpha Male together." Magnussen decided. John immediately looked over to Mycroft, who was looking rather pleased with himself, and a terrible shiver went down his spine.
"Mr. Holmes, the younger." Mycroft corrected. John's head snapped back to look at Sherlock, who was now very awkwardly poking at the food on his plate, not looking as if he were intending on eating anything. Sherlock's usually pale cheeks were blushing furiously, the only time John had really seen this boy show any human like emotion. John had no choice but to laugh, looking at the Three Leaders as if this were some sort of joke.
"Wait, you're serious?" he asked. They didn't even crack a smile, so they were either very good liars or 100% serious. "Look, I don't know if you all are familiar with the human anatomy, but I'm pretty sure it's impossible for the two of us men to have a child together." John pointed out. Mycroft just rolled his eyes and a little grumble passed through the leaders.
"Dear human, I thought you claimed to be intelligent. No, we are not going to trust biology, we are not going to trust the human reproduction system, it's unpredictable, it makes mistakes, no, we are going to use science, not genetics, to create our Alpha Male. There shall be no flaws." Moran insisted.  John looked over at Sherlock once again, who had regained his posture and was looking quite proud.
"So, we're going to have a...half alien kid?" he asked kind of doubtfully, as if everyone was going to start laughing and pulling off masks, revealing themselves to be the soccer team or some bullies in disguise, or maybe some psychopathic alien group that tried to make believers. Instead, they were totally silent, watching John with anticipation, as if fascinated with how he might react.
"Yes, Mr. Watson." Sherlock muttered when no one would answer. John nodded slightly, looking around at the people in the room uncertainly.
"Alright then." He agreed.
"So we will start the process tomorrow, you and Mr. Holmes are expected in the lab at nine o'clock in the morning, be healthy, rested, and fed." Mycroft insisted. John nodded once more, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was going to be a father. And...he was going to have another biological father as well. That was certainly odd. Especially since his co-father was going to be an alien.
"And, just to clarify, I'm going to make it out alive?" John guessed. The entire table was silent, no one said no, but then again, no one said yes either. "Brilliant, that's...that's brilliant." John muttered, looking at Sherlock for support, who was once more looking at his plate in shame. All three of the leaders stood up at once, which was very intimating to say the least. Mycroft and Sherlock rose as well, leaving John to scramble rather awkwardly to his feet, at least a foot shorter than even Mrs. Hudson, so he felt very unimportant indeed.
"Until then, this meeting is dismissed." Magnussen announced, and they all moved away from the table, walking out the door in a straight line, followed by a number of servants to show them to their living quarters. That left just John and the Holmes brothers, both of which looked very nervous.