I Don't Want To Believe

My Savior From The Stars

"I'm sorry, I got carried away." John muttered. Sherlock was still crying silently on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest into a little ball of sadness.
"I'll find a way, please, just...don't hate me." Sherlock begged. John nodded silently, feeling the need to walk closer and comfort him. Molly had said this man was evil, ruthless; colder than ice, but honestly he was so soft and so small that John was afraid he would be blown away by a simple gust of wind.
"I couldn't hate you Sherlock, but I think I'd like you a lot better if I made it out of this alive." John decided.
"You have to believe me, I had no idea, I would never want you to suffer John, I care for you too much to let them kill you." Sherlock insisted.
"I know, I know, you've told me from day one that I would make it out alive, but now we just have to make sure that's possible." John decided.
"We could beam you back down, back into your cornfield." Sherlock decided.
"And then where do I go with this alien hybrid? Home? They probably know where home is." John insisted. Sherlock shook his head, drying his eyes and getting into action mode.
"They don't, I did all the earth work, I was the only one who knew where you live." Sherlock pointed out. John looked at him in amazement, with all of these files and information; it seemed absurd that Sherlock was the only one who knew where his house was.
"Wouldn't they get a suspicion when the circle was right outside of my house? I mean, you're bound to go there first." John pointed out.
"No, they don't know. Until they track you, your house is safe." Sherlock decided.
"Track me; they're going to follow me down? Am I putting my family in danger?" John asked.
"They don't hurt innocents unless absolutely necessary. They'll come for you, and they'll come for the child, but they won't hurt your family unless they get in the way." Sherlock assured.
"Oh, because they're just so thoughtful." John laughed. Sherlock sighed, but nodded, obviously his brain was churning to try to think of an escape route.
"We'll grab the baby, it's okay to be off of the pedestal, that was just a display, it will grow in the tube fine. Then we'll give it to you, and I'll beam you to earth, and pretend you forced me to do it, you had a knife." Sherlock decided. John just laughed, that's a likely story. Sherlock, being forced at knife point, a human fighting back.
"What if they find out that you helped me, what will they do?" John asked.
"They'll kill me, obviously. I just have to make the whole thing believable, like you forced me to help you." Sherlock decided.
"Why would I take the baby if I didn't know their intentions? Why wouldn't I just go by myself?" John asked. Sherlock groaned, shaking his head in confusion.
"I don't know, because you're sentimental?" Sherlock asked in annoyance.
"Whatever, you'll figure it out, let's just go." John decided.
"Woah, not yet, John we need to plan this more. A day, at least, we can't just get up and leave." Sherlock insisted. "Have you even eaten breakfast?"
"There's more important things than breakfast Sherlock!" John exclaimed.
"Think about it, they'll realize this disk is missing. They'll know that you couldn't have opened it without help, so they'll assume I helped you open it. Then as soon as we find out, you drag me away, steal the child, and escape, doesn't that sound suspicious?" Sherlock asked.
"It sounds desperate, which is exactly what this escape should be." John decided.
"Patience, please John, patience." Sherlock insisted. John sighed, looking at the door to make sure no guards were trying to force their way in.
"Okay, fine, your way. Always your way." John sighed. Sherlock nodded in satisfaction, getting to his feet and rubbing his red eyes once more.
"Would you like breakfast?" Sherlock asked, trying to awkwardly change the topic.
"I told you, I'm not hungry." John decided.
"We need to act normal, so I'm going to take you to breakfast." Sherlock decided. John just sighed in defeat, wondering how normal it was for Sherlock to wander around with a tear streaked face.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you, again." John muttered. Sherlock nodded, looking down on John with an expression John had never seen in another person before.
"I never knew you were to die John, if I had, I wouldn't have picked you. I wouldn't have picked someone I knew I would come to care for." Sherlock assured. John just forced a smile and led the way to the door. He knew that even if the aliens did want him dead, there was no way Sherlock was going to let that happen. He was stubborn like that, and John had a feeling that when Sherlock put his mind to something, there was no stopping him. So even though John had a death sentence, there was a good chance he would live on. Sherlock walked very slowly down the hallway, in step with John. Usually he was a good five feet ahead of John, but today he was right at his side, looking around anxiously as if they were being followed.
"They won't kill me in the hallway, don't be so protective." John insisted.
"I'm keeping an eye out for you, like a good person." Sherlock assured.
"So, if we're a family, metaphorically are you supposed to be my husband?" John asked. Sherlock looked down at him awkwardly, but nodded.
"Yes, I suppose I am. But, you know, you don't have to be my husband if you don't want to, we're not allowed to pick our spouses anyway, and it's very much frowned upon to be a homosexual." Sherlock decided.
"On earth it's actually getting accepted." John decided.
"Is it? Well, that's good, but you guys have too many children, too big of a population. You can afford couples who don't reproduce, we can't." Sherlock decided.
"How big is your population?" John asked.
"It's secret, you can't know." Sherlock insisted.
"Why not?" John laughed.
"The humans might invade; they could invade if they thought they could, if they knew of our existence. That might be why they're so worried about your survival, your return." Sherlock decided.
"Why don't they just keep me here then? I could live with you, help you raise the child, why can't I just live here?" John asked.
"I thought you wanted to go home." Sherlock pointed out, a hopeful tone in his voice. Obviously he really hoped John had changed his mind, but once again, John's real family was priority.
"We went over this Sherlock, just because I've got a death sentence doesn't mean I want to stay." John pointed out. "I was just wondering why they didn't consider that as a peaceful alternative."
"You'll get home, I won't be selfish, I'll make sure you get home." Sherlock assured, pulling open the door to the dining room and leading the way inside.
"Molly!" he yelled at the seemingly empty wall. There was a moment of silence, and then the door appeared, and Molly rushed in, carrying a platter of human food once more.
"Yes, Sherlock, John, good morning." she said breathlessly. Sherlock watched as she and a couple of other servants scramble around, trying to bring plates and food out.
"We thought you were going to skip breakfast, it was getting late so we just assumed..."
"We're here, no excuses." Sherlock snapped. Molly jumped at his harsh voice and almost tipped over the pitcher of orange juice.
"Molly, it's fine, don't worry about it." John assured. Molly just smiled thankfully at him, finally all the servants bowed and scrambled out of the room, as if scared Sherlock would suddenly get a whip or something. When the servants were gone, Sherlock walked over and pulled out John's chair, letting him sit before walking back over and sitting down himself.
"Don't be kind to the servants, they'll think they can do whatever they want and not get consequences." Sherlock pointed out.
"They're humans too! Molly's a great person; she's not just a servant." John insisted.
"First of all, they're not humans at all. Second of all, they were born and bred to be servants, and they are the lowest in our civilization. I can treat them however I want and they can't say a word against me." Sherlock insisted. John frowned, that sounded an awful lot like slavery to be honest.
"And what exactly are you in civilization?" he asked.
"I'm the brother to a very successful scientist; I'm training to be a scientist myself." Sherlock said proudly.
"To experiment on other children you mean?" John asked. Sherlock sighed, looking around once more and shaking his head.
"I'd never be as heartless as my brother. I'd work to save and ensure life, not to end it." Sherlock assured.
"So, what makes a scientist in training better than a servant?" John asked.
"It's my family that ensures my authority, not my job." Sherlock insisted, sitting up just a bit taller in his seat. John just rolled his eyes, looking at the platters of food and suddenly not feeling very hungry. The only reason they fed him was to keep him alive long enough to kill him for fun.
"Eat, John, you'll need your strength." Sherlock insisted, poking around at some hash browns himself but not looking too pleased about having to eat human food. John sighed, but of course, Sherlock was right. He couldn't run from a corrupt alien species on an empty stomach. So John ate some bacon, eggs, sausage, and toast, drinking a couple of glasses of orange juice and hoping that it would all stay down. Sherlock just watched him eat, as if it were plenty entertaining to watch his little human.
"You're kind of creeping me out." John decided, waving his hand in front of Sherlock's face to make sure he was alive.
"Sorry Mr. Watson, I'm sorry." He muttered, blinking a couple of times and letting his eyes wander around the room, as if guilty for making John uncomfortable.
"It's alright, just kind of unnerving." John shrugged.
"Yes, just trying to savor this memory I suppose, might be our last breakfast together." Sherlock sighed.
"It's not like we'll never see each other again, I mean, you've alien communications, right? You can carve me a letter in the corn fields or something." John suggested. Sherlock just laughed sadly, shaking his head.
"It would rather suspicious if I tried to keep in touch with the man that held me a knifepoint, don't you think?" he asked. John sighed, but nodded.
"Yes, I suppose that might be considered...odd." He decided.
"I'll remember you, of course, and it will sadden be to let you go, but you must go because you must live. As much as it hurts to watch you leave me, it would hurt a lot more to know you never got to go back, to never be happy." Sherlock sighed.
"It's not like I'm depressed here, I'd just rather, you know, be home, with my first family." John shrugged. Sherlock perked up a little bit, as if he had caught something in John's sentence that pleased him.
"Am I your second family then?" he asked hopefully.
"Yes, I suppose you are." John agreed with a smile. Sherlock smiled happily, as if that satisfied him greatly.
"Well, thank you John, that means a lot to me." he decided with a smile.
"I'll remember you too, of course. How can I not, I mean, this was a huge part of my life, an alien abduction." John pointed out.
"You can't tell anyone. This is part of the deal; you must keep this a secret." Sherlock insisted. John just laughed, nodding.
"What am I supposed to tell people, that I was kidnapped?" John asked. "That I took a wrong turn in the cornfield and got lost for two weeks?" John asked with a laugh.
"I'll have to make up my story, and you'll have to make up yours." Sherlock agreed.
"Well then, I guess I have to get creative. I can't even tell my family?" John asked.
"No one can know, we can't risk being exposed, not until we know we're safe." Sherlock insisted. "As far as your planet knows, that space shuttle is still floating in space with four bodies in it, and they couldn't care less."
"Not all humans are like that you know, a lot of them are nice, caring, the people in that space launch, they weren't normal." John assured. Sherlock just laughed quietly, as if John's words amused him in some way.
"Of course I know that John, you're proof of that." he agreed. John blushed a little bit, as if this had been some sort of complement.
"Oh, well, thank you I guess." He muttered.
"You're welcome, I guess." Sherlock agreed. Their breakfast was finished in silence, obviously both of them were thinking about this escape. It was going to virtually impossible, there was bound to be people guarding the control room, and it would surely be locked. How do you break into a room where the door wasn't even visible? And how on Earth (well, not on earth, how on spaceship) was Sherlock going to casually steal the bloody Alpha Male right from under the Three Leaders' noses? Obviously one of them was going to notice what was going on. Did all of them know that John was to be killed? Did they all agree that the human who took part in the experiment was going to have to be murdered simply by knowing too much? John couldn't see little old Mrs. Hudson being so ruthless, Magnussen, yes, Moran, certainly, and Mycroft had always had that look in his eye, like he was trying to decide what sauce would go best with roasted John. But Sherlock, poor Sherlock, John was sure he had no clue of John's fate. He believed Sherlock really did have the best intentions, even if he knew that their child was going to spend its life in a laboratory, he still did want to have a family. John could only guess that his biological family saw him as second class to his successful brother, John assumed that Sherlock wanted something that was truly his own, he wanted not only to love but to be loved back. Could John do that, could John bring himself to love Sherlock back? Well, he wouldn't have a change anyway, he was leaving. Sherlock's final act of love was going to be to send his metaphoric husband away forever. When they walked back to John's room they were silent as well, and when Sherlock opened the door he didn't walk inside.
"Aren't you coming?" John asked.
"John, I can't stalk you forever. Besides, I'm going to see how accessible these rooms are, as discreetly as possible." Sherlock murmured.
"Well, alright then, I suppose I'll see you later." John decided.
"Yes John, you will." Sherlock agreed.
"I hope so at least, if they don't get to me first." He added under his breath, starting to turn away. Sherlock, however, grabbed his arm, preventing him from leaving.
"John I will never let them take you from me. Trust me on that." he insisted, leaning closer so that his desperate whispers weren't overheard.
"I know, I trust you." John assured. Sherlock nodded in silence, releasing John's arm and disappearing down the corridor. That was all John could do though, trust blindly that this alien was going to get him out alive.