Just An Ocean Apart

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    When they got closer to the docks, Sherlock could hear Victor's heart beating faster and faster, nerves, probably. Sherlock pitied him of course, but at least they hadn't been spotted, at least he wouldn't end up getting hanged. Victor's footsteps over a wooden surface told Sherlock that they had officially reached the docks, the place where all of this started, where all of it was going to end. John's initials were carved here, somewhere, in this old rotting wood. Back then, when Sherlock didn't even know his name. It was a sad time indeed.
"This is it then." Sherlock decided with a smile, letting Victor lower him onto the dock carefully, Sherlock's tail skimming the surface of the water. He had spent so much time in a bathtub and in a tank, he had almost forgotten the salty water, the current against his body, and just how deep and dark water could get.
"Sherlock, be careful, please." Victor insisted, placing a hand on Sherlock's shoulder.
"I will, of course I will. It's not just my life that's at stake here." Sherlock agreed, closing his eyes for a moment and seeing John's smiling face, reminding himself what this was all for.
"I trust you will make it, you're too stubborn to fail, just, know this. However this works out, if you do get legs, it's not a guarantee. He held strong for Mary before, he might do it again. Don't think that after you drink this potion you have his heart, love isn't just some game that you can win by default." Victor insisted. Sherlock sighed heavily, not wanting to consider Victor's point, that even if he did succeed, John still might pick Mary over him.
"May I have the key?" Sherlock muttered, holding out his hand. Victor sighed heavily, and Sherlock felt a cold metal key get placed in the center of his palm.
"Be careful Sherlock, please. And whatever happens, I'm here for you. Always." Victor insisted, pressing a kiss to the top of Sherlock's head as a farewell. Sherlock didn't say anything, he certainly didn't want to kiss him back, but it felt rather, satisfying, to have someone care about his wellbeing. The only person he cared about knew nothing of this expedition, and didn't care at all until everything worked out perfectly. There were so many things that could go wrong it almost seemed impossible for it to turn out right. Sherlock stared into the water, the waves lolling over themselves and spraying onto the shore, gently rocking the dock back and forth on its wooden poles.
"Well then, say goodbye to my tail." Sherlock decided.
"Goodbye Sherlock." Victor muttered, and with that, Sherlock jumped into the water. He was surprised just how dark the ocean was, how cold. He remembered it being murky and a bit chilly, but after longing in bathwater and sun heated tank water, this felt almost arctic. He swam lower and lower, his tail thrashing through the water, trying to be as quiet as possible. He could see the tops of the buildings come into view, rise out of the darkness of the water, the steeples of the churches, the coral and shell rooves lined with kelp and seaweed. Fish swam around in schools, swimming in and out in a beautiful show of silver fins. Sherlock paid no attention to them, he didn't care about the fish or the rooves or the fading rays of sunlight, he cared about what lay beneath him, in a large room filled with miracles. When he got to the ocean floor, the first thing he noticed was the silence. On land there was always something going on, from people milling around, farmers whistling, dogs barking and birds chirping. Down here, everything was silent, a tangible quietness settled over the shell lined streets like a fog, and Sherlock feared that every move he made would give him away. Everyone must be sleeping, that was exactly what he planned, but he knew that Mycroft wouldn't sloppy enough to leave the gates unguarded, even if the vast majority of merpeople were still asleep. So Sherlock swam quietly through the streets, his tail waving gently behind him. He scanned windows and doors, afraid that someone might decide to just poke their head out and see the missing prince swimming in the stone lined streets, raise the alarm, alert the king. The palace lurked up ahead, a massive building with towers and spires, blocking what little light could filter through the waves and casting the town in shadow. Sherlock knew that somewhere in there his brother slept, not a care in the world. It was odd to be back here, in some ways it felt like he had been on land forever, but it also felt like he never left. Nothing had changed on these streets, in the stores. The ocean remained the same, the waves felt no different, even though the ocean floor seemed a lot darker, as if in a nightmare. Sherlock made his way to the palace slowly, eyeing the main gates from far away just to see his competition. He could make out two guards, but they didn't look attentive, they were talking to each other, rolling their spears in their hands and seeming to be very bored, even from this distance. Still, the moment someone walks up they will pretend to be very official and professional. Sherlock had to find another way in. He knew that his bedroom wouldn't be occupied, and his window usually opened if you pushed on it hard enough. He had never kept it locked, but who knows what Moran might have done while he was trapped in there? Sherlock decided that was the safest route, Mycroft wouldn't dare lurk around there, and he wouldn't put guards outside of an empty room. So Sherlock swam around the coral castle, sticking close to the building and skimming the tops of the kelp, trimmed nicely right against the edge for some décor. Finally he saw his window up ahead, and put on a little burst of speed so as not to be caught out in the open. Sherlock paused, looking around cautiously before peering inside the glass. The lights were off, nothing stirred. His bed was made and his things arranged, but there were no guards, no Moran, no Mycroft. All was quiet. Sherlock pulled on the glass gently, trying to see if it was unlocked or not. Thankfully after a little bit of a pressure there was a creak and the window opened just the slightest, enough for Sherlock to get a better grip on the underside and pry it all the way. It took some skill to wiggle his way into the window, with such a horrible tail being the only thing balancing him, he practically flopped onto the floor like a fish out of water, knocking over his desk chair with a loud clatter. Sherlock winced at the noise, staring at the door in fear, worried that someone might come running, but everything remained quiet and still. Sherlock eased his way up, putting the chair back where it had been and closing the window. He would probably just escape through the main doors, there was no use sneaking around once he had gotten his potions. He looked around his room once more, as if trying to remember actually sleeping in that bed, actually staring up at the ceiling and wondering when he was going to see John Watson again. It was almost sad to remember how hopeless his past self-had been, and to think he was so close to reclaiming John Watson as his boyfriend. It was enough to kick him back into action, to stop reminiscing and remember that he was here for a mission. So he swam quietly to the door, cracking it open and peering through the hallway, surprised to see how empty it was. Not a soul wandered through the halls, all was quiet, so he slipped out and shut the door with a soft click, swimming down the halls to try to remember just where the potions room was. He twiddled the key nervously through his fingers, worried that he might somehow drop it and lose it and all would be lost. He trapped it in his fist, not willing to give up that easily, especially with such a stupid mistake. He swam near where he remembered the throne room being, knowing that the potions room wasn't that far beyond. When finally he wandered down the right hallway, he saw an unguarded door, a very familiar door, the potions room. Sherlock swam up to it and examined the door handle, seeing a key hole right beneath it, so he put the key in and turned it and heard, to his satisfaction, a telling click. Sherlock looked around suspiciously before pulling the door open, slipping into the potions room and shutting the door quietly behind him, so no one would know that anything was being disturbed if they happened by. The room was filled with row upon row of potions, large shelves stretching to the ceiling, containing all sorts of multicolored potions. Thankfully Sherlock knew which ones he was looking for, they had a very distinctive color and they would most likely be right next to each other. The potions were labeled, but the ones he was looking for were bright green, like the grass on land, and deep blue, like the ocean. The green one gave you legs, the blue one gave you a tail, and eventually after some wandering around Sherlock was able to pick out the green glow, the two potions. Sherlock swam excitedly up to them, reading the labels and smiling in relief, taking two of each and grabbing a small satchel that lay conveniently on the shelf nearby. Maybe it was for the soldiers when they needed multiple potions, Sherlock didn't really care, he stuffed the potions into the bag and hung it from his shoulder, starting to swim out of the room into the hallway. As he swam he began to hear voices, coming from the other end of the hall, people coming. Sherlock panicked, there were no doors to hide in, there was no escaping except back to the potions room, which was just a big dead end. It was most likely the guards, coming to start the day, sitting at doorway and doing nothing. Sherlock stared to swim faster and faster, prepared to just run right into them when the two turned the corner. Sherlock stopped abruptly, slowing himself down so fast he nearly did a flip in the water. It wasn't a guard; it was his mother and her handmaiden, Mrs. Holmes wearing curlers in her hair and her handmaiden holding numerous dresses to iron or something. The two stared at each other a while, Mrs. Holmes with surprise and excitement in her eyes, Sherlock with fear. He had no idea how his mother would respond to this, running away, stealing, she would never allow it, she would alert Mycroft.
"Sherlock?" she asked in disbelief, as if wondering if her old eyes were betraying her. Sherlock just bit his lip nervously, readjusting the satchel on his shoulder.
"Hello mother." he muttered, suddenly feeling the need to look at the ground in shame.
"Sherlock, where have you been?" she asked, rushing over to him and trapping him in an inescapable hug. Sherlock gasped for air, that had not been the reaction he had been expecting, and honestly it wasn't the one he deserved.
"Mother, I'm fine, really, I'm...please get off me." Sherlock insisted, pushing his mother's arms away from him and swimming back a little bit for some personal space.
"What are you doing with that bag, in the potions room?" she asked in confusion, obviously not able to piece two and two together.
"Do you want the truth?" Sherlock asked doubtfully.
"Of course Sherlock, I expect nothing less from my own son." She insisted, crossing her arms.
"I...uh...I'm going to take this potion, and become a human, and marry John Watson." Sherlock decided, smiling hopefully up at her as if begging her to approve. Mrs. Holmes stood, speechless, in the hallway, her mouth hanging open in surprise.
"You're going to become a human?" she muttered, as if this were some sort of foul sin.
"I've done it before, honestly, it's not too bad, and he's expecting me so could you just..." Sherlock muttered, trying to edge past his mother so that he could get away. But she swam in front of him, blocking his way. Sherlock sighed; maybe the truth hadn't been the best course of action.
"I'm sorry Sherlock, but this is obscene, you ran away, you're stealing from the kingdom, does Mycroft know?" she asked. Sherlock felt his face drain of color at the thought of his brother.
"No, and I most certainly can't have him finding out and nosing his way into my business." Sherlock insisted. Mrs. Holmes frowned at him, and Sherlock tried his best to do puppy dog eyes on her, to no affect. He scowl only deepened.
"I don't think it can let you..."
"Before you do anything, before you say anything rash, just...just hear me out." Sherlock insisted. Mrs. Holmes crossed her arms doubtfully and the handmaiden cleared her throat uncomfortably, as if wondering if they still knew she was there. They both ignored her.
"I love him. He loves me, or at least, he used to, and he refuses to except it now because I'm a merman but once I get legs he can leave his fiancé and he can marry me and the wedding should be starting soon so I really need to get up there, you have to let me go." Sherlock insisted.
"You're turning into a human so that you can make some prince maybe love you? He doesn't even love you now?" Mrs. Holmes asked in disbelief.
"No, he does, Greg said he does, he's been pacing all night, so if you'll please let me go, I have a heart to win." Sherlock insisted. Mrs. Holmes didn't move.
"I think you better talk to your brother about all of this, it seems pretty, well, idiotic." She decided.
"No Mycroft, no, Mycroft bad." Sherlock insisted.
"Is that how they talk up above?" the handmaiden wondered, and again they both ignored her.
"Your brother will help you, he'll see if he could..." Mrs. Holmes started, but Sherlock shushed her once more.
"No, I'm not talking to my brother, end of story, now move or I'll make you move." Sherlock insisted. Mrs. Holmes sighed heavily, but moved aside, leaving the way clear for Sherlock to swim past.
"Don't do anything stupid, please, and don't forget your mother down below." She insisted. Sherlock's face broke into a smile and he threw his arms around his mother one last time, thankful that she could see it his way.
"Thank you mother, thank you so much." He said with a smile, and with that he swam as fast as he could through the halls and out the palace gates. The guards, of course, started yelling, obviously they weren't accustomed to seeing the prince shoot out of the palace like a lightning bolt, but if they had any problems, they could take it up with the queen. Sherlock felt free, he felt recharged, and he knew that as he swam up to the surface it would be the last time he would do so, it would be the last time he would leave this underwater kingdom and the last time he would ever have a tail. As Sherlock swam farther up he started to see the sun, shining brighter than he had anticipated. Had that much time passed that the sun had come up? How much time did he waste while underwater? Sherlock swam faster, bubbles rising around him as he grabbed the satchel, pulling it open and pulling out one of the small bottles of green potion, the very potion that would give him his legs back. When his head poked out of the water he heard voices from afar, someone was talking, people were squirming around in chairs, a baby was crying off to the side. The wedding had begun.