Chapter Title: Born of Fire
Chapter Rating: M
Chapter Length: 3,523

Warning(s): Heavenly creatures don't like fallen angels

Pairing/Characters: John, Sherlock, Lucifer/Octavious shows up again, Lestrade, Henry Knight and Dr. Frankland, as well as mentions of Mycroft and most likely other people too

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, or Sherlock Holmes, they belong to Sir Doyle, Mark Gatiss, and Steven Moffat. Nevertheless, I do own the story and the descriptions of people in the story, I don't claim however to own the names of the people I'm describing.
A/N: Chapter 11 as promised, a little later then I meant to buuuut I got sidetracked with homework and actual work. But I'm not gonna make excuses or prattle on. So here is chapter 11 read, enjoy, drop a comment and let me know what you think. I'll see you guys lates, man!

After a quick and rather unusual conversation between the two Holmes brothers, they returned to Baskerville, with full access to the base and labs for twenty-four hours. They split up somewhere near the beginning, a complete accident really, that John really needs to stop letting happen. Though, it's really his fault for not calling or texting the detective. But he gets distracted by the smell of ozone, and the sound of tinkling bells, and the crackling of electricity against his skin as something shifts in the air. He wanders the labs waiting for the stragglers to leave for the evening, meanders across the floor, can't look too goal oriented, they are sure to review the cameras later. When he reaches the door, he ignores the sign letting himself in, from here he lets his senses drift out, touch the surroundings and feel out the anomalies.

There is an odd glimmer in the air, an odd fragrance in his nose, and he feels dizzy when he sees the leaking gas. It's not right, his mind tells him, there is something wrong with it. He stumbles out of the cordoned off section as quickly as he can, trying to shake the fog from his head. Temporarily blinded by the overhead lights, and his ears ringing with pain didn't help the shaking that was settling into his bones. The door denied him exit and suddenly he was plunged into darkness. The moment the lights were gone he could smell it again, stronger now. Ozone as it breathes and it's hairs rubs together, bells against tile as its claws click click closer, bright red eyes in the dark watching his every move. For a moment it's just them, watching each other, the sound of growls coming from somewhere in the room, disembodied from the creature he stares at. He blinks and so does it.

Several more pairs of eyes are staring back at him now, and he knows what he is looking at, has heard the stories of the creature that is watching him so closely. It moves and so does he. It jumps away, gaining leverage before jumping back, flying through the air with the grace of a bird, and with power greater than even its impressive size gives illusion to. It nearly barrels him over but he had slid under it last second, using the fluidity of the movement to remove the tags before his feet completely find balance under him again. It spun to face him with all the agility of a cat. Its maw opened over pearly white teeth and the sound that emitted from it was the echo of heaven's bells, deafening and a force of nature. He flinches back from the sound, throwing his hands over his ears to protect against the reverberation but he can already feel blood seeping through his fingers. He snarls back at it, slicking the chain of his tags with his own blood as it ignites in Hellfire. He cracks the whip across the creature's nose and it howls in pain stepping back before pouncing at him once more in anger.

He can feel his phone trying to get his attention, but right now he has more important things to worry about. Its clawed paw nicks his elbow dripping blood to the floor, his skin burned for a moment with the chill of Holy power. Another swipe and he barely dodges it as his phone starts buzzing again. Crack of the whip, and Hellfire catches around one of the paws. Its cry of pain nearly shoves him off his feet, the Hellfire dissipating and he stumbles against iron bars, falling through the open cage door. It stands outside his metal death trap, shaking its head and licking at its injured foot. Ears standing straight, the beast looks around, as if alerted to some sound and it's gone as quickly as it had arrived. He slumps against the bars, pressing his forehead to the cool metal. The lights are back on and he can hear Sherlock's feet on the tile. He's talking a mile a minute, about altering the security tapes, demanding what John saw, having left the security room the moment John had pulled the tags.

"It was large, with red eyes-" is about as far as John gets before Sherlock is off, talking about drugs, and hallucinations, and seeing what you want to see. He doesn't get the chance to tell the detective that what he had seen tonight in this lab was not a hound of any sort. It was a creature of Heaven, not Earth.

Everything is a blur. Henry is gone, Dr. Frankland is behind the hound hallucinations, and Lestrade is going to meet them in some haunted grotto with only a gun for protection, and Sherlock won't even hold for two seconds so that John can get him to back up from the situation. It's a hurricane of motion and action and he has been pulled into it and won't be getting out of it very easily.

Sherlock clutched tightly at Dr. Frankland's coat, having dragged the man from the hollow in the rock he had hidden himself. He was shaking him and revealing his whole plan when they heard the footsteps. When they hear the sound of Church Bells chiming loudly. Their eyes all slide up to the top of the grotto. The good Doctor looked about ready to be sick, while Sherlock's hands clutched tighter at the white coat. The "Hound" stalked the unstable dirt above them, glaring down upon the weak human's in which it was ready to prey upon. There was a low petrified sob as Henry stumbled away to collapse on his knees behind Lestrade, shuttering and trying to make himself as small as possible. The DI looked about ready to do the same. The Hound snarled, the sound of silver bells tinkling from its throat.

It shook out its fur, sitting back on large impossibly sized haunches as the mist cleared enough to reveal what they were really looking at. Three sets of large red eyes blinked at them from the dark. Sherlock shifted his body, leaning closer to John, to what he knew was safety.

"Dr. Watson… I believe this is your area of expertise, what can you tell me about this… beast?" It wasn't really a good time for this… but it wasn't really a good time to have four average, vulnerable humans hanging around when an angelic beast of myth had the high ground. It blinked down at them, shaking out its large lion's head. Bull horns from the ox head curved from behind around the lion's ears, a snort came from somewhere, as if unpleased that it could not see their adversary. Large red eagle eyes glared from behind the lion's right ear, piercing into John's head, trying to kill him with a glare. Golden curls fell from behind the left ear something soft whispering from under the cover of human hair.

"A Cherub…" John cleared his throat, moving towards the slope that would bring him closer to the creature. It bolted into an upright position, its front legs that of a lion, it's back of an ox, while its three pairs of angelic wings stretched to full span, as if sending a warning. He heard a quizzical noise from Sherlock's direction. "A Guardian of the Throne of God, I've heard of them, never seen one before tonight… Sherlock, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." He could practically feel the detective's need to roll his eyes as John slowly made his way up the dirt incline. The Cherub snarled at him, the sound almost animalistic. If it wasn't for the sound of wind chimes, he'd be a bit scared. "Is that supposed to frighten me?" He vaguely questions it, though he is sure it won't respond. Instead it steps away from the grotto, out of the line of sight, leading John away into the thick of trees.

He pulled the tags over his head, following its moves as it followed his. Running his fingers over the chain his fingertips ignited the metal in flames. It shook its lion's head, and a sigh came from the curtain of human hair. It turned so the blonde haired angel's face could survey him properly. Red eyes roamed him, curious and searching.

"You are John?" It whispered. He nodded, his bones rattling together at the sound of the angel's voice. Its features were neither man nor woman, its hair fell around its face like a veil hiding where the head melded with lion and ox and eagle. "My apologies, Child. But you have become a nuisance for our Heavenly Father. Please, do not think ill of me." At least it was polite, he thought to himself as the lion head turned to face him once more, its lips curling into a menacing grin. It was faster, now that it was somewhere open, somewhere it could move without constraint. John had a hard time keeping up with its pace, but any slip up was an opening for attack. He barely dodged the first swipe, claws having aimed for his chest. They wove together, one moving in and back out with each chance for offense, only to pull back in favor of defense. For a moment, they were evenly matched, equals in this quarrel.

But the moment passed, and though it seemed impossible, with every failed hit the Cherub seemed to gain speed, moving faster and faster, until John was tripping over his own feet, stumbling away, just to keep the attacks from landing where they aimed. His body was having a harder time healing the wounds inflicted by its Holy power, scratches across his arms and legs and abdomen. It was a little late before he realized that this was probably the idea, run his body down, diverting energy to healing wounds. He snapped his wrist forward, aiming for the feet, the legs, the eyes, anything to slow it down, even if for just a moment. A dull ache had settled in a spot between his shoulder blades where Michael's hand had once slid through and gripped his heart. The icy pain of Holy Power was starting to accumulate in his system, turning his Hellfire sluggish and dimming the flames. A large claw just nicked his chest and a blaze of pain blossomed from his torso, a large gouge opening from shoulder to opposite hip. He hissed, wrapping his whip around the paw that had raised for a follow through attack, tugging and twisting pulling the beast close enough to shoot wings out like daggers. Clawed tips sliced through the creature's leg, tearing at flesh and pouring its blood to the forest floor in rivers. He drew his wings back sharply in pain, as liquid light poured from its wounds burning stronger than any normal Holy power. He jumped back, releasing his hold and the dance continued. Dodging and weaving blows, lashing out his own, desperate to keep the creature from hitting him again.

Minutes passed of frustration as attack after attack failed to hit, was blocked or diverted from a killing blow. John was keeping even footing again, the beast's front legs wounded by his last attack. Until a tree root caught his heel giving the beast its chance to land another blow to his chest sending him back several yards. The ground was gone from under his feet, and the sensation of his stomach dropping to his feet told him he was falling. He hadn't realized they had moved so close to the grotto until it was too late. The thought hit him just as the ground connected with his back. His wings creaked, fractures running up along the bones. He bit his tongue hard enough to taste the acrid black that was his blood just to keep from shouting in pain. He scrambled to his feet only to be shoved back down as the Cherub pounced, pushing him back to the grotto floor.

He saw his only chance and took it. Spitting a mouthful of Fallen blood into the beast's eyes causing it to loosen the pressure it was placing on his shoulders. While it reeled, blind momentarily his wings curved latching onto the shoulders and under belly of the Heavenly creature, digging claws in deep. The animalistic scream it made had no sound of bells to it, no beauty. He dug deeper, liquid light pouring down the bones of his wings, eating away at the structure. With a powerful shove his wings ignited in Hellfire throwing shadows around the grotto as the creature caught fire around where his wings dug. It screamed, thrashing in his hold, tearing at what it could reach of his torso in hopes of injuring him enough to release his hold. Claws dug into his skin, shredding the human shell he wore, pouring light into his wounds and causing a scream of pain to rip through him. He dug the wings in further, refusing to let go of the creature, now that he had it in his clutches, he couldn't let it free. He snatched the creature's paws on their downward swing, holding them in his grasp, fire whip slithering around its front legs to hold them in place. Feeling the flame build in his veins burning through the icy poison of Holy power and burst forth from his palms, up his arms across his whole body, encasing himself in a protective layer of fire burning the light before it could touch his skin, cleaning his wings of the venomous substance.

The creature howled in agony, and there was a moment where the human head turned to him, gazed down at him in pure fury and fear, prepared to beg from the look on its face. But before he could change his mind, he pulled a hand back from where it was restraining the beast's front paws and thrust forward. His own claws easily tore through the soft flesh of the Cherub's abdomen, already torn and battered from their battle, his wings still holding firm. He ignored the burning in his fingers, in his arm as he dug his hand around the Angel's chest. Its insides were easy enough to pass through, pure liquid light, it was sifting to find what he was looking for, through the pain of Holy power burning into his skin, that was difficult. He sobbed in pain, when his fingers came in contact with what he sought in the creature's chest. Despite feeling his skin peeling back, and muscle disintegrate at the touch, John wrapped his bony fingers around the Holy star that was used for the creature's heart.

"You cannot…" Wind chimes whispered in his ear, and light was dripping from the Angel's human lips. He closed his eyes, to keep from looking at its face as he ripped the star from the Cherub's chest and crushed it between his fingers like glass. The body screeched and ignited instantly into Hellfire, as John shoved one last time with his wings, toppling it to its side, its legs limp with its demise.

Relief crossed his mind, Sherlock was safe, the Cherub was dead, and he felt strong and powerful. He'd just killed a Guardian of God's Throne.

The feeling didn't last long, panic set in as the light that had acted as the creature's blood began oozing, turning to stone, locking his wings in place within the Cherub's chest. He tugged, sending further cracks up his bone wings. With his last spark of energy he sent another burst of Hellfire, cracking the stone and releasing him from its temporary hold. He stumbled back, collapsing to his knees in relief and exhaustion clutching his slowly healing hand to his chest. Hiding the bone under his jacket to avoid the elements. A hand brushed his wings, and he didn't need to turn to know it was Sherlock. John closed his eyes, leaning minutely into the touch. His bones ached. He wanted to sleep for a couple decades. But he couldn't. Not yet. They both looked up as Dr. Frankland began running up the slope out of the grotto. He probably would have made it with Sherlock's lack of care, John's lack of energy, and Lestrade's lack of proper thought, if it weren't for the fact that someone was waiting at the top for them. A hand touched the man's chest, sending the old doctor reeling before he tumbled back down the slope. Octavious made his way down the mud and dirt as carefully as was possible, more out of wish to keep his shoes from getting dirty then because it was steep.

"Oh, dearest John." He practically crooned as he made it to the bottom, placing one mud covered foot on Dr. Frankland's chest to keep him from attempting escape. "That was absolutely arousing, the masterful way you took on a Cherub. I don't think I've ever seen a Fallen win against such a spectacular creature. Had me on the edge of my seat the whole show. Darling… you really are a marvel." Frankland struggled madly clawing at Octavious' well-tailored pant leg to little success before he began shaking in fright. Lestrade had lowered his gun to his side at some point, staring almost blankly at the three strange men in front of him. From the lack of whimpers, Henry had passed out some point between the Cherub appearing and Octavious speaking, his mind unable to compartmentalize the visions before him.

"Greg…" John started, voice hoarse. He paused, clearing his throat while the detective startled from his stupor to look at the winged man before him. "I know this is a lot to take in, but…" he nods his head to the doctor trapped under Lucifer's shoe. "I'm sure you brought your handcuffs."

"I'm hallucinating, right?" Lestrade said, matter of fact, as he holstered his gun and pulled the metal cuffs from his back pocket. His fingers shook as he did so, betraying his attempt to hide his anxiety over the situation.

"Sorry, love, definitely not." Octavious smiled lecherously as the detective knelt down and nudged the foot planted on Frankland's chest away so he could roll him over to be restrained. John tuned them out, as Octavious began overtly flirting with the Yarder, while still managing to fill the man in on all the facts that were relevant. Lestrade only seemed to be half listening, as if he weren't ready for the facts. Or maybe he just didn't care. About this time, Sherlock reached forward snatching the dog tags from John's motionless fingers preparing to drop them around his neck when a menacing hiss erupted from beside his left ear and a hand clutched his wrist almost too tightly, keeping him from continuing.

"Might want to wait." Octavious' gentle coaxing brought Sherlock's arm over his chest and the detective found himself several steps back from his previous position at John's side. The white haired man didn't seem to have a problem kneeling in the mud and filth as his hands ghosted over the bone of John's wings. Fingers traced fissures in the structure, dug nails into little furrows, and smoothed over loose chips. "Poor things…" He whispered to no one in particular, pressing his lips to a crumbling joint. The bones trembled of their own free will under his expert fingers, as if comforted by his ministrations.

John closed his eyes against the sensation. Exhausted and drained, but the touch of Octavious' burning fingers running along his wings, fussing over the damage, and stitching them back together. By the time the man was done John was ready to slide down into the mud and sleep. A gentle brush of fingers on his wrist removed his bony hand from its hiding place. Octavious nearly crooned as he brushed the knuckles of John's hand against his own cheek.

"So brave, John, I asked so much of you and you always give so much in return. How heaven could turn you out is beyond me…" His thumbs knead into the stripped palm, muscle and skin blooming up from where his thumbs press. The devilish man in a suit presses John's skinless fingertips to soft lips and slowly, one by one, his fingers regenerate flesh and skin. When Octavious presses John's knuckles to his cheek once more skin presses against skin and the devil smiles coyly at him. "There… all better." The tags dropped over his head, and he barely noticed the tingling feeling as his back sealed his wings up once more. With some help, his feet were under him again, and Sherlock was gripping John's arm in reassurance as much as for stability. Octavious had already moved away, was helping a newly awakened Henry to his feet. He could hear the boy stuttering nervously, Octavious flirting and soothing him at once, and Lestrade trying to hurry them both along. John smiled and let his forehead rest against Sherlock's collarbone.

"Let's go." He sighed as an arm came to rest around his shoulders.

"Agreed." Was whispered into his hair, and he could almost hear a smile.

A/N: Hope you guys liked this chapter, can't wait, now that the Hounds Arc is out of the way I can move onto the next arc which so far, for some reason, is my favorite. Alright, toodles for now, and thanks again for being so patient with me!