To Be Like That Of A God

Future Wasted With A Woman

    "What am I to do? Where should I go? I cannot marry a woman Victor, I cannot let myself be wasted on such a horrible companion, how could I..."
"Sherlock it will be alright, it will be." Victor breathed in assurance.
"It's not going to be alright." Sherlock insisted, pushing himself away from Victor and stumbling on his feet, falling into his bedpost before steadying himself with two reluctant hands. The very idea of losing his love, losing his heart, to a woman who had no business with it in the first place, well it was almost insulting! All of his beauty, all of his passion, and to see it go wasted with a woman who didn't deserve but a hair on his Godlike head! Why could he not love who he wanted to love, marry who he wanted to marry, why could he not let his destiny be fulfilled with the man who clouded his dreams and inhabited his deepest, darkest thoughts?
"Do you get to choose?" Victor wondered, approaching Sherlock very carefully and placing one of his hands reassuringly on Sherlock's shoulder, all the modesty of the morning having disappeared. Now it would seem that whatever space had been carved out between them had been filled in, and now they had become closer than ever. This was what the sharing of secrets was supposed to achieve, was it not? And yet what a dismal way to form a closer bond, what a terrible time to mend the strings they had plucked apart not long ago?
"I'm not sure, he said nothing, I ran before he could explain himself, and yet Victor I know he will not let me marry John, he would never understand!" Sherlock exclaimed with a sob, settling his white forehead against the wooden bedpost and heaving in breathes of desperation.
"No, whatever you do my Lord, do not breathe a word of your desires to Mycroft. Homosexuality, no matter how normalized it might be between you and me, is still looked upon as wrong. You will be arrested for it." Victor reminded him. Sherlock winced and yet he nodded, yes he knew of the consequences his heart's disfigured desires would thrust upon him.
"I must choose a woman who will understand why I am unable to love her; I must choose a woman who will understand when I explain my disinterest, my situation. In public we will be together, arm in arm, dancing and laughing like the best of friends and lovers, and yet at home we shall have different beds, we shall keep our distance, I do not want her poisoned lips anyway near my own!" Sherlock exclaimed, throwing himself away from the bedpost and storming with new found determination to the other side of the room without purpose.
"Most women will not understand the complexity of a homosexual's heart my Lord." Victor warned fearfully.
"How do you know that Victor? Have you told one before? Have you even talked to a woman before?" Sherlock demanded in a snap, turning on Victor with an unnecessarily angry glare. Surely none of this was Victor's fault, and yet for some reason Sherlock found his trying to help to be more irritating than the actual problem on hand. Did Victor not understand that this whole ordeal was helpless, that Sherlock was powerless to do anything but submit to the overwhelming force that was being trained on him? Society's expectations and the whims of his dominant older brother, well surely Sherlock was nothing but a pawn in this everlasting game of chess?
"I can only assume that they would not understand." Victor corrected in a slow voice, as if he thought that his own calm words might ease the redness that was emerging in Sherlock's previously very pale face.
"Well I'll make her understand, and if she does not then I'll make her. I can only imagine there are some women who love women, maybe I could find one of them, and we can never touch each other or look at each other once in our haphazard relationship?" Sherlock suggested excitedly, looking at Victor who shook his head very slightly, training his gaze upon the carpet as if he predicted some degree of hopelessness in Sherlock's words.
"My Lord I apologize if this may sound harsh, but I do not think that there is any person, male or female, that could love anyone else if you are part of their everyday life." Victor said slowly, closing his eyes for a sorrowful moment and letting Sherlock process all that was going on.
"That's it then...I'm jumping." Sherlock decided flatly, rushing over to the balcony doors to find that Victor was just in time to stop him, pulling him once more away from the glass and throwing him like a rag doll upon the bed.
"My Lord there are better ways to handle this, marriage to a woman you do not love is no binding contract!" Victor insisted in a sort of yell, standing over Sherlock as if he was going to be sure Sherlock didn't get off the bed without his permission. And so Sherlock lay in the mess of blankets and pillows, staring up at his servant hatefully and crossing his arms like a pouting child.
"Not a contract then? Not a golden ring, and wedding vows, and promises to God, and accompanying her throughout every aspect of my life, sharing my house and my bed?" Sherlock growled.
"You'll just have to, well...branch off from her." Victor suggested rather timidly, dropping his voice almost regretfully, as if he didn't want to say what was on his mind and yet he knew that it was supposed to be heard. Sherlock sat up cautiously, staring at Victor with wide eyes as he realized exactly what he was suggesting.
"You mean be unfaithful to a woman who has never done me wrong?" Sherlock whispered in clarification.
"If you do not intend on her being your wife and yet she wears your ring then she is doing you wrong, she is caging your heart when you intend on it roaming free." Victor assured.
"But that would be to break my vows." Sherlock reminded him.
"Not if you do not mean them when you speak them." Victor murmured, standing above Sherlock and looking down upon him with an almost apologetic glance. Sherlock took a deep breath, the first calm breath after so many panicked ones. So maybe this was the solution, an affair that was planned out before the engagement was even put into place. Sherlock got to his feet very quickly, taking a deep breath and running his fingers through his curls as he paced about the room, thinking about what Mycroft was making him do and about what Victor was suggesting he do. Could an affair really work, could he pretend to love a woman while loving John beyond her line of vision? Would it be possible to hide his hatred for his wife? And would John be aware of the unfaithfulness while he partook in it? Would he refuse to assist Sherlock on his sin? Sherlock shook his head fearfully and sank back down on the bed, staring at the unwritten letter that he had already addressed to John Watson. Oh how he wished this could be as simple as it had been last night? When all he had to worry about was the shame of being turned down? Now he was fighting a battle of morality and good nature, he was trying to cheat his way out of the miserable system of marriage and find his own love, his own path of life. Could he ever find a wife that would understand his situation if he explained it to her, or was he cursed to forever hide his desires and love a woman while yearning for a man who waited for him when she had finally turned away? Was Sherlock capable of lying to a woman he had promised to love, and was he capable of sacrificing his money, marriage, and social status all for a man who may or may not return his love?