Wait: Muse is promised their greatest wish if they can wait, but they cannot interact with the person they love while they do. Anon decides how long it lasts.
“You’re saying that I can live forever… as long as I wait three years for you to get the right ingredients?” He had to say he did not believe it at all, but if there was even a chance that he could live forever, live alongside Logan until the end of time, live and see Sherlock in his own time… Well, it seemed like he should take it, right? Turning his dark brown eyes on the woman in white, he quirked an eyebrow. “There has to be a catch.”
She sighed, looking down and nodding quietly. “In that time… You cannot see or speak to Logan, in any way of communication. He cannot see you, cannot smell you, and cannot speak to you.”
Was it worth it? Of course it had to be worth it. Missing three years to live forever after it. And the threat… the ‘prophecy’ that he will die in this war with the other mutants. But… Would Logan move on if he was gone for that long? Looking down, Holmes thought very hard on the idea. “Can I tell him?”
“I need your decision immediately… You won’t have time to speak to him about it.”
“A letter at least! That has to be fair.”
She frowned, shaking her head. “You cannot interact with him. That includes letters.”
Hanging his head, Holmes braced himself on the window sill, looking out at the city they had ended up in while running from Victor. He could always return to London, travel until his three years were up… But how bad would this hurt Logan? And suddenly he had an idea, turning towards the woman and starting for the phone on the bed. Hopefully he would still be at the restaurant with Saintly and Sherlock. Holmes had stayed behind to work on more cures.
“Operator? Yes, I want to send a telegram to the Amos, looking for a Sherlock.”
I don’t have much time. Don’t come looking for me. I’ll be okay… I just… I have to go for a little while, okay? But I swear on everything I have, on everything I am that I will return to you. Three years’ time. Remember the day. Be at 221b Baker Street –Much Love. Holmes.
The detective looked slyly at the woman, smirking quietly. “That should reach him before I have to leave for my three years and it’s not directly to Logan. The Contract still works.” She shook her head, laughing quietly before stepping towards the window. “I’ll see you in three years then…?”
“Three Years, no Logan, or the whole thing is off.”
Sherlock sat beside Saintly, holding up a glass in celebration as they had won, beating the odds and living through the ordeal. Wrapping his arm around Saintly, he kissed her deeply, happy to have her in his arms, enjoying the fact that they could all be happy again, they could be free again. He was taken by surprise when the waiter approached, baring a little note to a ‘Sherlock’, and he took it from the tray, reading over it before looking up to Logan with a half saddened, half worried look. Before he could really hand it off, it was taken from his hands.
By the time they got back, Holmes was gone.
Holmes had left town, left the city, left the country by boat, making his way back to Europe, traveling by water, making sure his scent could not be traced. Baker Street was still too risky, too soon after the war, any rogue Mutants might go looking for them there first. So he traveled under a disguise, going to Asia, then to Australia, then briefly to the Americas. Eventually, he had gotten used to Horses, though he much preferred to walk or catch a cab somewhere. When he was lonely, he’d hold tight to the Dog Tags he had slipped from Logan’s bag, quietly thinking about that first night after the bar, and then the nights on the road, how they would sleep alongside one another, protecting one another. Sometimes he would miss Saintly and Sherlock, and wondered how the two were doing, whether either of them would ever want a wedding and if Logan would be the Best man and whether or not Barbossa would be the man to marry them. What would Logan do at a wedding? Holmes laughed at the thought of seeing him in a suit again, a little bow tie, standing quietly in the corner as Saintly and Sherlock had their dance.
But neither Sherlock nor Saintly were the marrying type, so he quickly let that image go.
One day, during his second year of being away, Holmes found himself in a park, watching as people walked by, holding hands and standing close in the cold of winter. Some had children, excited about the coming of Santa Claus, and Holmes felt his mind wandering to what the other three were doing for the Holidays, hoping they were all together still because Logan needed someone, and Saintly and Sherlock wouldn’t know how to behave on a holiday. He also thought about children, again seeing none of them as being the one to be ‘parent’ types. Sherlock and Saintly were good enough Children for Logan and Holmes, but the detective still had to admit that it would be interesting if nothing more to have a little girl or boy. But, that would never happen, so it was another image left in the snow as he wandered towards a Hotel.
The woman returned, three years later to the day, with a gift. He had been waiting for her, only two blocks away from Baker street, ready to return, ready for the gift he had been waiting for for three long years. A ring was presented to him, and he looked at it with a quirked eyebrow, looking back to the woman in a quiet ‘Really?’
“Your thoughts were loud enough to deafen an elephant.” She replied, winking quietly as she laid the ring in the palm of his hand. “The first human hand to touch this ring will gain immortality. After that it can be given to anyone.”
Laughing as well, Holmes rolled the piece of jewelry around in his hand before looking back at the woman, thanking her, tears glistening in his eyes as he quietly bowed his head. She disappeared, and Holmes was sprinting through town, going back to the home he had missed so much, hoping they were there, hoping his whole family was there and waiting, looking, expecting him. Flying through the door he called out, “Logan! Logan! Sherlock! Saintly!”
“Lo- Logan…?” He looked through the house. No one was there. Where… where were they? He sent them the telegram! He… He remembered that clearly. Tears welted up in his eyes. Had they abandoned hope? “Logan… I’m back…”
Footsteps sounded behind him, and the front door swung open again. Holding his breath, he turned.