I Don't Want To Believe

Careless Constellations

For some reason, it was Sherlock that woke up first. Maybe he was the lightest sleeper, or possibly it was just because he was already on the brink of waking up, but when he first heard the footstep, his eyes shot open.
"John?" Sherlock hissed. John mumbled something about five more minutes and just snuggled closer.
"John, wake up." Sherlock muttered, shaking his shoulders. John's eyes opened slightly and he lifted his head, not willing to do much else.
"I heard a footprint." Sherlock whispered. John just slanted his eyes in annoyance.
"Ya, so, there's three other people in this house." John insisted carelessly, starting to shut his eyes again.
"I heard one on the roof." Sherlock hissed. John was silent, listening with all of his might, his blood running cold. As Sherlock had promised, there was the slightly tapping on the roof, of feet running over the shingles. John shivered in fear, knowing there was only one cause of that, they had been found.
"Get behind the bed, quick!" John hissed, practically falling onto the floor before scurrying behind the mattress. Sherlock took his time, holding Hamish closer and sliding to the carpeted floor.
"What do we do?" Sherlock whispered.
"Shhhh. Get to the woods, follow me." John decided, not daring to look out the window. How many aliens were on their roof? How many of them were clumsy enough to make noise?
"How far is it, how open?" Sherlock asked in a whisper.
"It's not far; I walk every day, half mile, maybe more." John decided.
"These people are faster than both of us; they'll catch us in a half mile." Sherlock pointed out.
"Then they can't see us leave." John decided. Out of nowhere, Sherlock threw his hand over John's mouth, a look of fear in his eyes. John looked at the wall with wide eyes, where there was a faint shadow of someone looking into the window, someone that looked human, but wasn't. John snuggled closer to Sherlock, trying to be as silent as possible but knowing the aliens could probably hear his heart beating faster and faster. They had to go, as soon as this alien looked away, they had to run. John looked Sherlock in the eyes and was met with a very confident glare back, they were prepared, they were ready. Finally, when the shadow disappeared, John perked up and peered over the bed, to see that there was no one peering into the window. He nodded confidently to Sherlock, who lowered his hand from John's mouth and held Hamish, if possible, even closer.
"Alright, come on." He decided, crawling as low as humanly possible and scurrying to the door. When he got to the hallway he could hear more walking on the roof, it sounded like more people so they were either crawling up there for a better advantage point or they were being beamed directly onto the roof. That would be quite a thing to explain to the construction workers, why there was a huge circle burned into the top of the shingles. Oh, you know the aliens today, no respect for other people's property. Sherlock followed him into the hallway, shutting the door as softly as humanly possible and waiting for a moment. John looked down the hall to his parent's room, to Harry's room, wondering if they should take them too. But no, they wouldn't be harmed if they don't know anything, besides, they wouldn't understand what was going on, they don't know these creatures as John and Sherlock did. So they had to stay.
"Alright, let's..." Sherlock's sentence was cut off by the smashing of glass and desperate screaming. It sounded like it was coming from Harry's room. All of the sudden, practicality didn't matter when the image of Harry getting skewered on one of the alien's spears.
"Harry!" John screamed, starting to run desperately to his sister's room when Sherlock pulled him back, taking his arm and yanking him down the stairs.
"They're going to kill her!" John exclaimed, trying to yank Sherlock's hand off. Then again, his grip was strong, and John had no choice but to fall down the stairs along with him.
"No they won't, they don't want the publicity, we need to go!" Sherlock insisted. The screaming continued, but it wasn't stifled or interrupted. The aliens were moving, they weren't going to focus on some screaming little kid. Sherlock pulled John out the front door, but when they got out, it definitely wasn't the normal development. There was no moonlight, no starlight; in fact John couldn't see the sky at all. There was only the ship, a massive metal mother ship hovering over the earth, beaming more and more soldiers down on the house. The streets were illuminated not with streetlights, but with spotlights, beaming down from the mother ship and scanning the ground. 
"Run John, run!" Sherlock cried desperately, holding Hamish close and taking off down the road. John heard calls, beeping from the ship that loomed above them, but didn't care; he sprinted down these familiar streets, only just able to stay with Sherlock since he had the baby in his arms.
"Turn here!" John exclaimed. A bright light shone down on them, some sort of search light, they were being tracked. John could hear metallic footsteps behind him, the soldier's armor or something, chasing them down the street. Sherlock and John took a violent turn down a road, leading towards the school, only a couple more blocks... Hamish was crying again, his sobbing echoing down the street. Jon couldn't think about that now, he couldn't think what these humans must be thinking right now, that crazy Watson boy on the run again. But he wasn't just running for the thrill of it, this was life and death, love and loss, he was running for the safety of himself and his family, all while leaving his family behind.
"Come on, we can do this!" John exclaimed, but even as he said it he felt fatigued, his legs were starting to slow, his arms grew weak, his breathing became more forceful and more rapid... Sherlock still hadn't slowed down; even without the use of his arms he was going strong while John was lagging father and father behind. He took a cautious look behind him to see a good ten soldiers chasing him, all in metallic golden armor with those long spears in their hands, coming for vengeance, coming for blood. John sped up even though his legs begged him not to, coming up on Sherlock's shoulder once more. One more block...they sped past the alien statue, which now looked pathetically friendly, and through the square. All the while John felt the mothership hovering along with them, lazily beaming the searchlight and blinding them with blue light. There was no way simple trees could save them from this, what good was a forest against an army of trained alien soldiers? Finally they arrived at the school, Sherlock leading the way around the corner and to the soccer fields, putting on a burst of speed when they saw the tips of the trees in the distance, just over the hill, through the soccer field, they were so close... As soon as John climbed the hill he was struck in the back of the head, something had come flying at him that felt large and metallic. John fell to the ground in pain, in defeat, clutching his head and writhing in the cold grass. No, he had to keep going, no; he couldn't give up like this. Sherlock ran up to him desperately, trying to pull John to his feet, using whatever strength he had to clutch onto John's clammy arm, but the guards caught him first. Sherlock was forced to his knees, holding Hamish desperately to his chest and muttering words of encouragement to the baby, who was sobbing. John noticed that Hamish wasn't the only one of the two who was crying. The guards pulled John to his feet, who was still trying to clutch onto his skull, trying to make sure it wasn't cracked. They didn't even look winded from that run as they pulled John roughly to his feet, grabbing both of his arms and pulling them uncomfortably. John's legs weren't able to hold him anymore, not after that horrible sprint, and he simply dangled, his throbbing head lolling on his neck, feeling helpless, hopeless against this army of aliens. He heard Sherlock screaming, he heard Hamish crying harder than ever, and he looked up ever so slightly to see one of the guards forcing the baby out of his hands, pushing Sherlock back into a mess of guards to restrain him. John screamed in rage, trying to wiggle his way out of their grip all while knowing it was pointless. Even if he took on these two guards, there were hundreds more arriving to keep him away from his family. Sherlock was now in desperate tears, being held by three guards who were all getting punched, kicked, and even head-butted by the desperate father as he tried to reunite his family.
"Sherlock, it's alright!" John screamed before a guard thrusted a gloved hand over his mouth. John groaned, trying to shake his head away but giving up again, letting his head hang and his feet dangle. Sherlock continued screaming, and Hamish continued crying, and it hurt John more than anything to know there was nothing he could do about it. John groaned to see what looked like thirty soldiers march from the opposite direction, coming across the soccer field and looking very odd next to the goal. Who knew the two aspects of John's life would clash so ironically. This was it then, they were going to beam them all up, torture them, kill them, and there was nothing John could do except squirm hopelessly, knowing he would get nowhere with his aching muscles. Sherlock's screaming had subsided, either he had been muzzled as well or simply given up hope, but Hamish continued to cry, the only sound other than the footsteps of the perfectly aligned soldiers marching through the grass.
"We have the prisoners." said a guard proudly, seemingly the leader of this little troop. He walked forward with confidence, coming to meet the new troops arriving.
"And what is to become of them?" asked one of the new guards. John couldn't make out his face in the darkness, but his voice seemed familiar, maybe he was one of the guards who confronted John and Sherlock before they made their escape.
"They are to go to Magnussen of course. He is the one that set this up, after all." The guard assured, as if that was a very obvious question.
"And what will Magnussen do?" the other one asked. Enough with the small talk, if they were going to die, just get it over with!
"Dispose of the two I'm sure, but the baby, he's still useful to us, as long as these idiots didn't mess him up too badly." The guard shrugged. John looked up in horror, trying to get a look at Sherlock before they were hauled away. But before he could even focus his attention on his boyfriend, the newly arrived guard lowered his spear and plunged it into the other man's stomach, so quickly it was merely a flash of gold. It was silent, John was too shocked to even cry out, but after a moment the man was able to mutter out a quick, "Oh..." before falling over onto the wet grass, his blood splattering the half yard line. And then there was chaos. The guards holding Sherlock, John, and even Hamish dropped their prisoners, lowering their spears and charging at the opposing line, clashing in full out civil war. John managed to crawl over to Sherlock, who was lying on the grass, covering Hamish with his body as men threw themselves at each other above, stabbing, punching, and grappling their way in a bloody war.
"Sherlock, what's happening?" John managed, grabbing Sherlock's hand in terror, feeling the boy shake in fear.
"Magnussen, I don't know, he's taken over. These must be the rebels." Sherlock managed, his voice sounding raw.
"Is Hamish alright?" John asked desperately, not being able to see his son underneath Sherlock's protective arm.
"He's strong, but he's quiet, I don't know." Sherlock admitted. John ducked as a body thumped to the ground next to them, a solider, blood splattering his face in a permanent expression of pain. Boots ran around them, soldiers yelled, men died, but it was sure to be over soon. It wasn't exactly a fair fight.
"We need to go, Sherlock, they'll get over this, they'll take us..." John started. As soon as he said that, a guard appeared above them, his spear covered in scarlet blood and his armor damaged. But he didn't attack; in fact he leaned down, hovering over Sherlock and John as if wanting to protect them.
"Listen to me, this is all I can do for you, run, get away from here, as far as you can, where they can't find you." He said, in the familiar voice John heard earlier.
"Mycroft..." Sherlock muttered, pulling himself to his feet and carrying Hamish in his arms. John looked up in shock, but as promised Mycroft stood before him, looking more violent than John had ever seen him.
"Why are you helping us?" John asked as Mycroft helped pull John up as well. His legs buckled and he stumbled momentarily, but finally regained his balance, messaging his head and finding, to his relief, that it was still in one piece.
"I'm helping you because I didn't know either, Magnussen's intentions, he plans to invade earth." Mycroft insisted. "He wants to take over using your Alpha Male, that is why you need to disappear."
This news seemed pretty obvious, Magnussen was a twisted, heartless man, there was no doubt in John's mind that he was willing to torture a baby to gain power. Then again, the disk was found in what must have been his office.
"Is my family safe?" John managed.
"Your family will be fine, he doesn't want a body count, he doesn't want the humans to be suspicious." Mycroft muttered. John breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that this hadn't all been for nothing. His family was safe, now he had to bring his other family to safety as well.
"Mycroft, thank you, thank you..." Sherlock muttered, his words slurred in exhaustion.
"Now run, brother mine, run. As far as Magnussen knows, you and your family are dead." Mycroft insisted. And for once, John and Sherlock did exactly what they were told. They ran, without looking back, without being followed, they ran to the woods, knowing they wouldn't just stop there. They would have to leave this entire life behind, this town, possibly this country, start a new life of their own, untouched even by the light of Sherlock's home planet, still glistening innocently among the constellations.   

A/N: Well, there that goes...until the sequel at least hehehe. Ya that might take awhile sorry, so much to do!!!! Anyway I liked this story a lot more once it had been published, I wrote it and it was fun and all but I didn't know how it would go over. I like it a lot more seeing it up here with parts and titles, so I hope you guys agree. Obviously I was very motivated by the X-FIles, now one of my favorite shows. So ya, there's a sequel being thought up in my little head, but it's not really developed now. So I hope you guys liked that, because the sequel of Humans is coming on Sunday!!!! Yay!!! So ya, thanks for reading guys, hopeful I'll see you all in my other stories :)