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Sherlock accompanied John on a speaking engagement in the States. Dr. John H. Holmes-Watson’s latest studies was getting a buzz in the medical community.
The alpha’s testimony on medical theories and new procedures in the years since his first papers on the subject when Dennison vs Zhao otherwise known at the Emancipation of Simone Zhao from Lei Zhao, the precedent setting case in the AO Magistrate. Dr. Watson’s pain-management procedures guided the couple through their six-month atrophy with minimum physical pain. What it cost Zhao to be free of his wife financially, yet keep their Second Mate, soon-to-be Zhao’s First Spouse Rolando, was a different story. Still the success of the ground-breaking case made Dr. Watson, then somewhat renown for his seminal work on omega studies, was no longer a rising name, but a well-known and respected name in several countries with notable alpha-omega populations for nearly two decades.
“In the over near three thousand cases only fourteen did not work out as expected. And I phrase it that way, because in eight of the cases the alpha or omega died evoking actual severance which overrode everything else. In two cases - one was still in love with their partner and was sabotaging the process not wanting to separate…”
John frowned slightly feeling a sudden spike in tension from Sherlock, waiting off to the side.
{Omega?}
He mindspoke with Sherlock even as he continued with his audience.
{Apologies my alpha. Please finish.}
{Okay.}
“In the remaining cases, when it became clear the process was not working, the couples were interviewed anew. In the end it turned out they still very much wanted each other. And as no one knows the minute physiological details of what makes severance what it is, it turns out – even if there are huge problems in the marriage – when a couple truly love each other, they cannot sever themselves. As a result, in the past few years, couples counseling has been added to the interview process to help the couple determine if there is a need for emancipation or simple communication and…”
{We must go, John, NOW.}
John technically had another five minutes in his lecture, but he knew by Sherlock’s tone, there was not enough time.
“In conclusion: There’s Alpha and there’s Omega and especially when it comes to our kind our bodies know there’s nothing better for us than love. Thank you.”
He had barely cleared the stage when Sherlock stepped up to him.
{She asked for me.}
John understood the urgency by Sherlock’s face.
{How close is she?}
He asked, but he is a doctor after all. He knew the answer.
{Louis genuinely believes she’s only waiting for us, but I know not how much longer she can wait - even for us.}
John and Sherlock were on the next plane available back to London and went straight from Heathrow Airport straight to her bedside.
Cancer respects no one, not even doctors.
First diagnosed some five years ago, she had already undergone a Whipple procedure. It bought her time, yes, but never enough. Three months ago, the pancreatic cancer returned with a vengeance. Two weeks ago, she signed a DNR.
Knowing they were in the states and what it would mean - seven hours ago, her husband, Louis Brealey, called Sherlock and John and asked them to hurry.
Refusing a medical facility, she had chosen to hospice at home. She lay frail in her bed, until she heard the two men at the door and smiled. Louis Brealey looked up and guided everyone else out of the room, giving Sherlock and John time with her.
“You have no idea how I wish I could heal you.” John whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
“Stop it John, I’ve seen some of the amazing advances you’ve done with alphas and especially omegas. I absolutely know if it were in your power to help me you would.” She chastised. “As a beta I’m out of your bailiwick. It’s okay. I’m just glad you were in my life. You and Sherlock are among my closest friends. Though the least either of you could have done is bring in those portraits I know you have hidden in 221c.” She had teased.
John and Sherlock’s true ages were not reflected in their faces. Though all three were now in their sixties, only she looked it. She was just the latest in a string of people to have jokingly made a Dorian Grey reference to their aging. Or rather the lack thereof.
“That’s all? Easy. You want to see them, my friend; you must make an appointment to come by Baker Street next week.” Sherlock returned the tease.
“Fine. Tuesday after work. 7pm.” She chuckled. Her ever-bright eyes belied what all knew were her last moments with them.
Sherlock held her hand and fought against the tears.
John left, giving Sherlock some time alone with her, because he understood.
She was his friend.
Being the type of person he was, especially as an omega, Sherlock did not have any true friends outside of Victor growing up. During the decade that Sherlock and Victor were apart, Sherlock became the World’s Only Consulting Detective. Yes, the first couple of years when she was desperately infatuated with him were uncomfortable for both, but it passed and a true friendship with her grew from there. She was the first person in his adult life, who was not family, who cared about him, did not try to change him, and wanted nothing from him. Yes, Sherlock met Lestrade first, and met her through him, but she was the first true friend Sherlock had made on his own.
And now he was losing her.
Less than two hours after they arrived, retired Medical Consultant Margaret Anne Brealey – née Hooper, affectionately known as Molly, became one with the universe. Her husband, Louis, their three children, Mina, her best friend since childhood, and John and Sherlock, her closest friends, were by her side.