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Title: Five times John was selfless with his magic...
Setting: BBC! Sherlock
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: John, Sherlock
Genre/Warnings: Angst, Drama, Supernatural
Summary:  And the one time he really wasn't. Twelveth in the Witch Verse
Written as part of NaNoWriMo... A combination of a lot of different prompts. Sorry for the delay but I misplaced the file with these in the move from one laptop to another. =(

Prompts for the series are great for this! =D
 


Serires starts Here



  1. To fix his mother

 

John was seven years old when he first figured out his gift. It was a bit late for a young witch to find their particular type of magic but not unheard of. They had known Harry’s strength from the moment they brought a baby John home and in a fit of jealously she had turned him into a toad. At first they had punished her for touching the spell book without permission until she had started screaming that she hadn’t touched it, that she had just wanted the baby to be so small that no one would care about it and would care about her again.

But John hadn’t done anything like that. In fact, he struggled with most transfiguration spells rarely getting the creature he wanted. He wasn’t any good at battle magic, to his parents’ relief and had no memory for herbs or potions. Teleporting made him faint and he had never showed any sign of the more ‘psychic’ powers like telepathy. The only lead his parents had to his special ability was his telekinesis, but that only showed up when he was angry.

If not for his mother’s accident just after his seventh birthday, there is no knowing when he would have discovered his healing ability.

It had been six months since John had been kidnapped and nearly become the next victim of a demon and while his Mum was getting less vigilant at watching him, his Dad rarely let him go anywhere alone. It was to be expected, he had been the one to find John but it very annoying to a seven year old when he wasn’t allowed to go to any of his friend’s places because they couldn’t protect him. Or he couldn’t even go outside into the yard alone because he had only been in the front yard when the demon got him.

One day, he had sneaked out of the house to go look for worms in the garden. The T.V program had said they liked to hide in the dirt and there was a nice dirt patch at the end of the garden. John had borrowed one of the spoons from the kitchen and was happily digging away, when his Mum started to yell for him.

He was having so much fun that John decided to pretend he couldn’t hear her. He managed it too…until she came out into the garden and stood right behind him.

‘John, I’ve been calling you. Why didn’t you come?! I thought something had happened to you!’ she said angrily.

‘But I’m fine Mummy. Look! I found worms.’ John pointed out his small pile of worms with the spoon.

His mother quickly focused on the spoon. ‘Is that my spoon?’ she asked quietly, but in the voice John knew proceeded her yelling at him.

John knew better than to lie. ‘Yes, Mum. I borrowed it. I was going to put it back.’ He looked up at her with wide eyes.

Sighing, she grabbed his arm. ‘Next time ask me, and I’ll give you an old spoon.’ She pulled him up and began to pull him along towards the house.

Suddenly, a man appeared in the middle of the yard. Without thinking, Sally Watson pushed her child behind her and faced the man.

John wasn’t sure what was happening, but his Mum had just pushed him to the ground like Harry always did, and it had hurt. He looked up to his mother but she wasn’t looking at him, she was looking at the man standing in front of her. He said something John didn’t understand and then his Mum just collapsed. John froze as the man disappeared with a smile.

Slowly John crept forward to his Mum’s side. She was covered in red paint and there was a sore like when he hurt his knees on her chest. She was crying and John remembered how much his knees had hurt and he knew why.

‘Mummy? What’s wrong?’ she didn’t answer, but just kept breathing heavily. John heard his Dad calling from the house but he ignored him. Mummy’s hurt… I have to help her.

He remembered how his Mum had made his knees all better and he decided to do the same for her. She had said some funny words when she did it, but John couldn’t remember them so he would have to do it without them

He held his hands out over his Mum’s sore and screwed up his face thinking about it being all better. At first nothing happened, but then John felt the tug that he always felt when he threw something at Harry or used a spell. He opened his eyes to see his Mum looking up at him in wonder.

‘I fixed you, Mummy!’ he cried with a huge smile. ‘I fixed you like you fix me.’

His mother sat up, as her husband finally raced out into the yard. ‘Yes you did. You did fix me.’ She pulled him into a hug.

 

  1. To save a pet

 

There was a black dog that lived next door that John hated. It was small, and looked far too much like a cat. It had scared John heaps when he had first seen it. Even now, when it didn’t scare him he still hated it. The dog would bark at all hours of the night and as John’s room was closest to the neighbour’s backyard he was always the person awoken by it.

But the kids next door loved the dog and would show it off to anyone they met when walking it. The oldest, Ronald was two years younger than John so they had little to do with another.

It was the week before John’s fourteenth birthday when the dog managed to slip out past the father and escape. John listened to them call for the dog long after it had disappeared from sight and for two weeks after he found a large amount of posters appearing on his route to school. Other than being thankful for a full night’s sleep John didn’t care about the event, he didn’t even bother to learn the dog’s name.

Now there was a small forest a short walk away from John’s house. John spent a lot of his free time in there, playing ridiculous games and searching for magical creatures and herbs. He did invite some of his friends there but they all believed the stories about it being haunted and refused to go in. John couldn’t understand their reasoning; he knew the forest was haunted. He was actually quite good friends with a few of the younger ghosts. One day, about two and a half weeks after the dog next door had run away John found himself spending his Saturday in the forest. This time it was for homework, as his mother was teaching him about herbs and he had to identify a dozen different ones and bring them home. He was picking one of the last plants on his list when he heard a quiet whine.

Curious, he followed the noise until he came to a small hole. Looking down into it he spotted a small black dog, with a clearly broken leg. Startled, he recognised the dog as the missing one. It was very thin and John guessed it had been in the hole for a while. He wasn’t quite sure how it had gotten there but it clearly wasn’t getting out.

Sighing, he placed his bag on a nearby tree branch then reached into the hole. He quickly removed his hand as a sharp pain went through it. The dog jerked it’s head out of sight.

‘It bit me!’ he cried, shocked. He held his hand up to the light and saw that the dog hadn’t broken the skin but it still hurt. Angry, he grabbed his stuff and stormed off.

He hadn’t taken more than ten steps when the dog whined again. Guilt flooded though him. The dog was hurt, and to walk away would be heartless. Sighing he dropped his bag and headed back to the hole. This time he didn’t just poke his hand in, he tried to see if he could position himself so he could see the dog. After a moment his eyes adjusted to the light and he spotted the little dog right at the very back of the hole.

Now how do I get you out of there? He wondered. John knew he could go home and get someone to help, even possibly the neighbours but he didn’t want to have to walk twice. Besides, the dog was hurt and if he could save it pain…

An idea occurred to him and he quickly grabbed his bag and searched through it. Finally he found the plant he was searching for, the one he was sure caused sleep. With a hurried glance around him he tried to conjure some form of dog food. He was aiming for a bone, or a piece of meat.

He got something resembling slop on a plate which was slightly odd because he hadn’t been aiming for a plate but it would do. Slowly he broke up the plant and spread it over the slop. Then John carefully pushed the plate into the hole and watched as the dog greedily gobbed it up.

John then counted off the five minutes it took for the plant’s spell to take effect. He waited another minute after it should have worked then reached in and pulled the heavy dog out. As soon as it was clear, John began to check it…him for injuries.

He only found the broken leg and some minor cuts. John wasn’t sure if his magic worked on animals but now seemed like the perfect moment to find out.

Concentrating hard John pulled his healing magic to his hands and felt it working on the dog. He smiled.

Half an hour later, John led a groggy dog out of the forest. He walked it to the main road, placing it just under one of the flyers. John knew the family would be by in a few minutes double checking all the flyers were still up. He would leave the dog here… he didn’t want the recognition.

For the next month the kids next door were celebrating the return of their dog. They called it a miracle as the dog wasn’t hurt, was barely hungry and had just appeared under one of their flyers.

John just asked them to shut the dog up.

  

  1. To ease someone’s passing

 

John loved his job. He was only an intern but he loved the feeling he got from being able to help others, to know he was making a difference. And, if he was able to hide use of his ability occasionally… well it was going to be an added bonus.

It was about time for him to knock off so he dropped in on his favourite patient. She was an elderly lady, Theresa Johnson, who was suffering from cancer and to whom he had taken a liking. She wasn’t exactly his patient but she never had any of her family visit and the chances of her leaving the hospital were so low she had all but given up hope. John had gotten into the habit of visiting her for as long as he could each shift, just so she had some company.

Normally they just talked about the small things, much like John did to his own grandma. But she was the first person he had talked to about his desire to join the army and she had encouraged him to follow his dream in between telling him tales about her husband and children. John had brought her a favourite magazine of hers she had mentioned in an attempt to cheer her up.

It is painfully clear as he enters the room that she has taken a turn for the worse and the magazine is not going to help anything.

‘Theresa.’ He said softly as he nears her bed. He places the magazine on the bedside table and takes a seat in the chair beside her bed. She opens her eyes slowly and turns to look at him with a smile.

‘John, dear. How are you?’ she wheezes out. Every action of hers is making it clear that the treatment she is on is not working. John feels his heart sinking.

‘I fine. But I’m supposed to be the one asking you that.’

Her smile grows slightly wider. ‘You are a great doctor, John. I’m sure you know exactly how I feel.’

‘I’m only an intern.’ He protests. Theresa just smiles wider. ‘So, are they trying another treatment?’

He asks.  

‘No. I’ve told them not to. I’m sick of all the treatments failing; I just want to die with dignity.’

John blinked away a stray tear. ‘What about your family? What do they think of this decision?’

Theresa’s smile becomes grim. ‘John, do you think my family care? I’ve been here six months and they’ve never visited. I can face the facts; the only two people who care about me are my dead husband…and you.’

John lets this tear drop down his face. Theresa places her hand on John’s, which is resting on the bed. ‘Don’t cry. I’m off to a better place.’

‘How long?’ John asks quietly.

‘A few days, maybe a week if I’m lucky.’ She said the last part with a slight edge to her voice.

John picked up on it. ‘Theresa…’

‘I know. Treasure very moment and live life to the fullest…but John, sometimes I just can’t wait for it to end.’

John looked down and removed his hand from Theresa’s. ‘I’m sorry John.’ Theresa said. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you…’

‘There’s nothing I can do?’ John asked softly.

Theresa’s smile returned. ‘You’ve done so much already John. I’m so very grateful for you. I couldn’t possible ask you to do any more…’ she trailed off.

John closed his eyes and suddenly an idea came to him. He debated with himself for a minute then made up his mind. ‘I can give you a gift.’ He said softly.

Theresa looked confused. ‘John I just said…’

‘I know. I can make the end easier.’

She misunderstood him. ‘John, I’m already dying. I’ll not risk your career, your future for a few less days of pain.’

John shakes his head. ‘I won’t take your life. I refuse to do that. But I can…I can put you into a deep sleep so you don’t feel anything.’

Theresa is still confused. ‘But John… isn’t that what the pain medications are for?’

‘Not like this. This would be… well, like this.’ He puts his hand over her head and mutters the spell he plans to use, with one modification. She gasps as the images fill her head. John isn’t sure exactly what; he just knows the spell allows a person to relive the best moments of their life for however long he wants them too. He can make it last for her last days, if she wants.

He removes his hand, and the current spell ends. As her eyes clear Theresa is looking up at him in shock. ‘What was that?’ she said in awe.

‘My gift. You can relive every good moment of your life as if you were still there, for the rest of your life, if you would like.’

The delighted look on her face is answer enough for John. He goes to out his hand over her head again, but her weak hand grabs his before it reaches her. ‘You are an angel, aren’t you?’ she asks quietly.

John smiles grimly. ‘No, but I could probably introduce you to one. I’m just a man with a…a gift.’

She smiles. ‘Well then, I hope you get what you want in life…and I hope one day you know exactly how much this…’

John cuts her off. ‘I know.’ He places his hand on her forehead, mutters the spell and Theresa is gone, spending her last days in pleasure, not pain.

John signed up for the army that afternoon

 

  1. To give someone hope

 

‘I’m not going to make it home.’

John looked up at the statement. He was in his bunk, trying to grab some sleep for a few hours. He had only been in Afghanistan for a few days and was already exhausted, having been taking watches for other men, far more tired than he was. It was the man in the bunk above him who had made that statement, a fellow by the name of Henry Barker.

‘Don’t think like that Barker.’ John said, putting a bit of an order into his voice.

‘I’m sorry John, but it’s just… I can’t see how…’

‘You will make it out of here just fine. Now go to sleep.’ Above him Henry sighed, but rolled over. John closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Henry wasn’t the only man who thought like that. There had to be a way…Oh.

An idea came to him and John spent the rest of the night debating over it and then, planning it out.

 

********

 

The next morning, the men weren’t too surprised to see their new medic/doctor was the first one up. What did shock a few of them was him volunteering to help cook. He had often stated his cooking ability was pretty limited, but the regular cooks were quite happy to have an extra set of hands, no one really thought about his motives.

And if that meant no one watched him closely enough to spot the hand full of herbs he added to the porridge, well that was an added bonus for John. He had had to raid the small supply of herbs Harry had slipped into his bag as she said goodbye but it was worth it. He had sworn not to use magic again but this wasn’t really very magical… at least that was what he was going to tell himself.

Dill for good cheer and survival, Marjoram for joy and mint for refreshment and to disguise the taste. Or to help pass it off as an experiment. John thought over the herbs he had used.

It was no shock to him that the men of his unit were slightly more hopeful than before.

 

  1. To save a stranger

 

He was on patrol when he found the man. Lying in the dust by the side of the road, most men would have passed the man off as dead and kept walking. Not John. He would have stopped to check, even if his magic hadn’t been screaming at him that there was someone injured near him.

In fact, this was what made him such a good doctor.

He made his way to the man and rolled him over. As soon as he saw the face and the clothes of the man properly he realised this man was an Afghani, most likely a member of the Taliban. But John didn’t care. As far as he was concerned this man was one of his patients now and that was it.

The member of his squad behind him did not agree with John’s ideas.

‘What on Earth are you doing?! That’s a…’

‘This is my patient. I don’t give a damn who he is or what nation he fights for. I will help him.’ John growled out, cutting the new guy off.

He huffed and continued on his way.

It was then the bullet ripped through John’s shoulder.

It hurt beyond anything he had ever felt and John didn’t want to do anything other than scream. But he could hear more bullet shots around him and he knew that people were relying on him. He looked down at the man bleeding out under him and made a decision. He quickly called up a small amount of his magic, enough to stop him dying in the next hour or so.

Then, gritting his teeth against the pain, John crawled towards the nearest body. He ran a hand over him, grabbed a bandage because he wasn’t wasting his magic if he could bandage the wound. He called over another squad member, thrust the bandage into his hands and moved onto the next victim.

He managed to get halfway to another man before the darkness became too strong to hold back and he passed out to the cries of men around him.  

 

+1. For Revenge

 

Donovan and Anderson were the only parts of John’s new life that he didn’t like. They never let up on Sherlock, always tormenting him and criticising him. It never seemed to bother Sherlock, but John always finds himself getting mad on his flatmate’s behalf. He looks forward to the times they take a pot-shot at him if only because he is able to retaliate.

He also always finds himself cleaning up broken mugs and glasses whenever they are particularly mean. Sherlock even offers to help, but John normally waves it off as it’s his mess and there have been occasions when Sherlock hasn’t quite managed to duck, which makes John feel guilty.

So when he has a chance to get back at even one of them, he takes it without a second thought. Despite the fact it’s not exactly the best use for his magic, he has no qualms about using it in his plans.

Donovan is the one he gets revenge on, and it’s a spur of the moment thing. Sherlock and he are in Lestrade’s office and John is looking out Lestrade’s window at the squad room while the pair argues over some crime scene. He can see Donovan at her desk in front of him, writing out something and when she goes to answer the phone she puts her pen down. It lays there, perfectly innocent, and in a flash an idea comes to him and he’s acting on it before he even thinks about it.

He uses his telekinesis to push the pen over so it’s just out of her reach. It should be harder than it is, but apparently John has a lot of repressed anger to call on to power his ability. Donovan puts the phone down and reaches for the pen without looking. John gets a small giggle from the look on her face when she finds it isn’t there.

Looking around slightly confused, she moves over and grabs the pen. She turns back to where she was writing to find the piece of paper she was working on has moved. It’s not there, and she spots it sitting beneath the desk. Even more confused, Donovan picked up the piece of paper only to find her items on her desk have changed position. Her phone is now in the middle of the desk, her computer screen is tillered down and her mouse is atop the pile of files on the other side of the desk.

She reaches out to grab it, only to have it move slightly away from her hand. Donovan pauses, looks around to find no one watching her, then tries again.

The mouse moves away again.

Frustrated, and not quite willing to believe what was happening, she lunges for the mouse only to have it jump off the desk and fall to the ground. She shrieks and jumps away from the desk. Taking a deep breath, and ignoring everyone eyes which are now on her, Donovan turns her back and heads for the toilets.

She does stay well clear of all the desks though.

John is having trouble hiding his laughter and glee. He looks back at Sherlock and Lestrade who have stopped fighting. Sherlock looks like he knows exactly what is going on and he too is hiding a smile. Lestrade on the other hand, looks as confused as everyone but there’s a slight look of suspicion in his eyes. While he knows about John and his abilities but he’s not quite sure exactly what the man can do, other than turn disappear and fight werewolves.

‘John…?’

John smiles innocently. ‘Yes inspector?’

‘Why do I have the feeling you have something to do with Donovan’s office supplies hating her?’

‘Because John did have something to do with it. Why did you do that John?’

John smiles fully. ‘Because I could.’



Next
 

 


Date: 2011-01-28 05:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ningen-demonai.livejournal.com
I AM INTRIGUED BY THIS MYSTERIOUS KILLING MAN aka I want John to beat him up. What, me being bloodthirsty? Never.

But yes, this was delicious. John being wonderful and kind and so human, ugh, I love him so much. ♥

Date: 2011-01-28 05:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] prettybirdy979.livejournal.com
I think his Dad got it. John, while awesome, wouldn't have been able to beat up a demon when he was seven. =) (Bloodthirsty is okay)

Thank you. (Same... =D)

Date: 2011-01-28 12:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] southerngaelic.livejournal.com
.......

THIS IS AMAZING.

YOU ARE AMAZING.

Date: 2011-01-29 02:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] prettybirdy979.livejournal.com
Thank you. =D

Date: 2011-01-28 12:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] firewolfsg.livejournal.com
Oh! This is a really delightful series!

Cat is cute w/ Sherlock, hope we see more of them together.

Thanks for sharing.

Date: 2011-01-29 02:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] prettybirdy979.livejournal.com
Plenty of them together to come! =)

Thanks for commenting!

Date: 2011-01-29 07:44 am (UTC)
themusecalliope: Vulpes Vulpes (Default)
From: [personal profile] themusecalliope
I love this series, so it's always nice to see a new chapter. And this chapter was great. Good job our lad's a healer and not particularly malicious. :)

Date: 2011-01-29 02:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] prettybirdy979.livejournal.com
Yup. =)

Thank you for commenting.

Date: 2011-02-07 07:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] luv-gaara-16.livejournal.com
aw this was such a cute series ty for uploading ^.^

Date: 2011-02-08 09:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] prettybirdy979.livejournal.com
You're welcome. Thanks for commenting!

Date: 2011-04-19 01:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladyra.livejournal.com
This has been a wonderful series, and I hope there will more. I'm off to rec it on my LJ!

Date: 2011-04-19 06:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] prettybirdy979.livejournal.com
Thank you! And *blushes* thanks for the rec.

There is more.. there's heaps more buried in different word docs on my computer. I'll see what I can do about digging some of it up. =D

Date: 2011-04-20 11:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ladyra.livejournal.com
Lovely. I already saw chapter 13 on AO3, and already read it. Lovely!

Date: 2011-04-22 03:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] prettybirdy979.livejournal.com
Thank you. I'm glad you liked it!

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