Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

John stares at the little plastic stick for the longest time, uncomprehendingly. It just doesn’t make sense; this can’t be happening to him. He’s never- he’s always been careful. This wasn’t supposed to happen to him.

He’s studying to become a doctor, dammit. He knows how these things work. He knows that while conception is easier during Heat, the chances of pregnancy increase in the week leading to it. Still, he had thought himself safe. True, he stopped taking birth control because it was seriously messing up with his hormones, but-

And while his last encounter had been… a little reckless, to be honest, he had thought it wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t supposed to matter, really. Seeing his partner had been a Beta, he had believed- the odds of conception were-

God, he’s a medical student! He should have known that odds aren’t everything. In fact, in the great scheme of things, they’re meaningless. Patients are always betting odds, there’s always a chance-

He closes his eyes, forcing himself to take deep breaths. He can feel himself slowly panicking and that just won’t do. He needs to keep calm, he needs to think-

God, what’s he going to do? Terminating the pregnancy sounds like the most logical solution, but as soon as the idea pops into his head, he scratches it out. It might be silly and sentimental, but this is a life he created with his best friend, not to mention this is his best friend that he’s pretty much in love with and so he can’t bring himself to do it: even if it wasn’t in his plans- even if he’s not certain what the other father will say-

He finds himself wanting to keep the baby.

He supposes he can finish this term and then take a break from studying, at least until the baby is old enough to go to daycare. His mother will be mad, of course, but she’ll eventually calm down and she’ll probably be very supportive, considering the same thing happened to her. Harry will probably threaten to kill the other father, but she’ll be thrilled at the idea of having a little niece or nephew. So all in all, it’s probably not that bad, is it? He’ll have to put his plans on hold for a little while, but-

John sighs, feeling slightly better now. Things might not be as desperate as he thought; everything will be fine. Only thing left is-

What is he going to tell Sherlock?

As far as John knows, there’s no significant other in Sherlock’s life, but that means very little. He doesn’t think his best friend will turn his back on him once he tells him they’re going to have a baby, but then again, seeing his friend is a Beta, he probably hadn’t even considered that was a possibility.

Besides, before they headed back to their respective colleges, they hadn’t really discussed what they were. The fact that they had slept together didn’t really mean something had to change and in any case, it had been a one time thing so-

He stares at his phone for the longest time, wondering if he really wants to have this conversation like this. It seems like the kind of thing one should discuss face to face, but John has to admit to himself he is a little scared. After all, he does know Sherlock: he knows how cruel and cold his friend can be, even if he doesn’t quite mean it like that.

He doesn’t think he could stand Sherlock’s callousness on this subject.

He guesses he could wait till the break; it’s only two months away. Or he could go to visit Sherlock at Cambridge for the weekend; just a quick visit to sort things out.

Yes, that sounds like an idea. Although not this weekend, seeing he has an important test next monday and the next one is probably a bad idea too, since there’s a conference he was hoping to attend. And of course he’s not postponing the inevitable: he has very valid reasons to delay sharing the news with his friend.

So in a few weeks then.

Yes, it sounds like a good plan.

Sherlock is fairly certain this is a bad idea.

He has never before visited John during school term, he has always settled for texting or occasionally calling when he finds himself missing his friend. Showing up unannounced is asking for all sort of trouble, really. John might not be around or he might be busy or he might be-

Well. He doesn’t want to think what his friend might be up to.

He has been telling himself that what happened during the break hadn’t really meant anything. He of course hasn’t been operating under the delusion that it meant anything at all to John; his friend has never been particularly sentimental regarding sex, so Sherlock hasn’t allowed himself to believe that anything has changed.

And yet-

He waits outside John’s building for the longest time, trying to figure out if his friend is in. The lights of the flat are on, but that hardly means anything. With two other people living there, statistically speaking, it’s likely at least one of them is home on friday night. Still, John has always enjoyed a good party, so it’s entirely likely he’s not the one at home right now.

Sherlock sighs, running a hand through his hair. This was a bad idea, he knows, and yet he’s here already, so he might as well knock. Mike is a nice enough fellow; he’ll let him in even if John is out. He hasn’t met the other flatmate yet, but hopefully he’ll let him in too.

He climbs the stairs slowly, feeling irrationally nervous. It might be unusual for him to be visiting, but it’s hardly something weird. Friends visit each other all the time, don’t they? Just because he never has- it doesn’t have to mean anything. John probably won’t think it means anything. John probably won’t realize that Sherlock is here because his pathetic pining has taken new heights ever since they slept together.

Of course he won’t notice. Sherlock has been very careful; John has never suspected a thing. What happened during the break- it had been a slip, something that wasn’t meant to happen again and Sherlock has made his peace with that knowledge, he really has, so that’s not why he’s here, of course. He hasn’t come to visit because he thinks something has changed or because he thinks that he and John are now dating, of course not. He’s here because-

Because he misses his friend. That’s all.

He knocks on the door, holding his breath. It’s ridiculous, he knows, but he does feel nervous even if he can’t quite explain why. He waits for a few seconds and finally he hears someone approaching. His heart starts beating faster, having recognized the approaching steps.

“Hello John,” he greets as soon as the door opens and he finds himself face to face with his best friend. John seems surprised for a beat and then he beams enthusiastically at him, ushering him in. Sherlock finds himself breathing easier, happy that apparently nothing has changed.

“-thinking of going to Cambridge myself! Really Sherlock, are you certain you’re not a mind reader?” John chats happily as he leads Sherlock towards the kitchen. Although he has never been at John’s apartment, he knows where everything is, based on what his friend has told him, along with the image he has constructed via their Skype sessions. The flat might be a tad smaller than he originally imagined, but all in all, he’s proud to notice that his mental image quite matches the place.

He smiles at John, who is now busying himself with making tea. He follows after his friend all around the kitchen, not once bothering with personal space, as he usually does when they’re together. John has never minded and so Sherlock allows himself this piece of comfort, even if deep down he fears it’ll only make things worse in the long run.

But then, John had said he had been thinking of going to Cambridge himself, could that mean-? “Is that so? Missed me already?”

John laughs, but it has a nervous edge that makes Sherlock frown. That’s when he notices there seems to be something odd with his friend, but he can’t quite point out what. Which is ridiculous, really, because he’s very observant and so he doesn’t know what he could possibly be missing-

“You smell different,” he points out suddenly, because it’s the first difference that comes to his attention. John bites his lip gently, looking away and Sherlock’s heart sinks, although he’s not sure why.

“Yes, about that-” John begins, picking up his cup and taking a small sip, even if the tea must still be scalding hot. “I- There’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just-” his friend looks nervous and upset and Sherlock wants to do something about it, because John should never look like this, but what-? “I’m pregnant.”

The world stops spinning and Sherlock feels like he’s going to throw up. He had always known he would lose John eventually, because there was no way his friend would settle for a Beta like himself. And even if Sherlock had been an Alpha, why would anyone, least of all someone as perfect as John, pick him as a Mate?

This, however, feels too sudden. He hadn’t even known John was seeing someone seriously, but evidently he had; obviously he was very much in love with this person, because why else would he be having a child with them?

“I see,” he whispers, going to sit on the couch, vaguely aware of John’s concerned frown. “That’s- that’s a bit unexpected.”

John chuckles, still nervous and goes to sit next to him, leaving a considerable distance between them. “That’s the understatement of the century,” his friend agrees. “It clashes a bit with all my plans but I- I really want to have this baby.”

“I see,” Sherlock repeats, his heart breaking into a million pieces because he hadn’t thought that what they did during the break had meant anything to John, but he had hoped-

Oh God, how could he be so foolish?

“Sherlock? I understand this is a bit of a shock, but I was hoping-”

He doesn’t know what John was hoping for and he finds he doesn’t particularly care. He can’t stand being here for another second, not when it feels like he’s being torn apart by a pack of hungry wolves, so he does the only logical thing he can think of.

He flees.

Chapter Text

Well, that was…

Well.

John bites his lip non too gently, feeling more than a little nervous. This doesn’t bode well for the future, but then, he guesses, the news are really quite surprising, so he figures he can give Sherlock the benefit of the doubt. After all, his friend probably had never even considered he could be a father, to find out that John is pregnant after their one-time…

Well. It’s a bit too much to take in.

With that thought in mind, he refuses to panic and instead carries on as if Sherlock’s visit hadn’t taken place. He finishes his tea calmly, turning on the TV but not really paying attention to the show. After a while, he decides it’s late enough for him to go to bed and so he does exactly that.

He’ll call Sherlock in the morning.

And then they’ll talk.

Sherlock wanders around London without a destination in mind. His heart is beating erratically inside his chest, his eyes itching with unshed tears. He had always known that John would never be his, but it seems he had always clinged to the small hope that even if John wouldn’t choose him as his Mate, at least John wouldn’t tie himself down to anyone else.

Now though-

Who is this mysterious Alpha, in any case? It’s been awhile since John mentioned anyone new; as far as Sherlock knows Sarah was John’s latest attempt of a long term relationship and that had failed quite spectacularly, so...

But then, Sarah had always been so terribly understanding, so how could Sherlock know for sure they hadn’t got back together? And it would make an awful lot of sense too: during the break, John had been ‘single’, having recently broken up with Sarah, but when they got back to school they could have talked things through and then-

Yes, it would make sense.

He stops, closing his eyes and forcing some air into his lungs. Breathing is getting harder with each passing second and Sherlock begins worrying he’ll faint. Which is ridiculous, really, since he’s hardly a tragic heroine from a cheap romance novel who has just found out the love of his life is promised to another, but well…

It’s close enough, isn’t it?

He realizes his steps have taken him to Mycroft’s street. His brother has just recently acquired a small flat in the center of the city and although the place is rather cramped (or so he has told their parents), he’ll certainly let him stay for the night, won’t he? After all, Sherlock had been expecting spending the night at John’s so he doesn’t really have the money to spend the night at a hotel, no matter how cheap it is…

Although he doesn’t really want to see his brother right now. He knows exactly what Mycroft will say, having warned him more than once against handing over his heart, particularly to someone like John. John, who has always been a little too casual with his affections; someone who’s a little too charming for his own good.

John, who would never settle down for someone like Sherlock.

Mycroft isn’t home when he arrives, but he lets himself in after picking the lock. His brother will probably be mad, but then, Sherlock isn’t really in the mood to care about that. So he heads towards the bedroom and collapses on top of the bed, still perfectly dressed, too tired to care about anything at all.

It’s been quite a hellish night, to be honest.

And he suspects things are just going to get worse.

“Is everything alright?” Mike asks over breakfast the following day and John wonders what gave him away: the dark circles under his eyes? his tired gait? his lack of appetite? Or maybe-

“I’m fine,” John answers darkly, toying with his food. “Just- tired.”

Mike looks unconvinced and he worries his lip for a bit, as he usually does when he’s about to broach an uncomfortable subject. John isn’t really in the mood to talk about anything, but running away doesn’t seem like a very viable option.

“It’s just- well, you’ve been throwing up every morning since you came back from the break and you seem very tired lately and so Bill and I were wondering if- if there was- eh- if you’re okay, really.”

John sighs. He guesses he should let his flatmates know he won’t be around for the next term, but he’s still- things are still a bit too recent and he’s not quite ready to discuss what’s happening to him just yet. Besides, considering what happened last night with Sherlock- he’s feeling a bit too raw. “I’m fine,” he repeats seriously and Mike hesitates. Finally, the other male nods, still looking unconvinced, but willing to let it go for now.

“Alright,” his flatmate says. “But you know you can count on us, right? Anything you need-” he gestures vaguely and John can’t help smiling a little.

Everything will turn out fine.

Even if Sherlock-

Well. Better not think of that.

Mycroft is sitting by the window when Sherlock wakes up in the middle of the night. His brother’s profile is lighten up by the moonlight, giving the whole scene a sense of surrealness. Sherlock sits up, still sleepy, but with a vague sense of urgency. He remembers there was something important he wished to tell his brother, but what-?

“Did you and John finally had your inevitable fall out?” Mycroft asks, not exactly unkindly, but a little… coldly. In a rush, the happenings of the night come back to him and Sherlock closes his eyes, tears threatening to spill at any given second. “Sherlock?” his brother asks worriedly, standing up and coming closer.

“He’s pregnant,” the words are barely a whisper, but Mycroft hears him just fine. For a beat, neither of them speak and then Mycroft sits next to him on the bed, pulling him into an awkward hug.

“I’m sorry Sherlock,” his older brother whispers, running a hand through his messy curls. He doesn’t say ‘ I told you this would happen ’, but Sherlock hears it all the same. He closes his eyes tightly, refusing to cry in his brother’s presence.

God, what a mess.

How did it come down to this?

John tries calling Sherlock thrice. The first two times it rings and rings; the third time it goes straight to voicemail.

John closes his eyes and tells himself not to panic. Sherlock will come around, won’t he? Even if- even if his friend isn’t particularly thrilled about them having a baby… he won’t turn his back on them, would he? John can understand Sherlock not wanting to have a child and he’s certainly not going to impose; if his friend would rather not be involved in the whole ordeal that’s-

That’s fine. You can’t force anyone into parenthood, after all. But the way he’s going on about it- that hurts. Because Sherlock might not feel the same way John does about him and so this child might not be something he finds himself treasuring, but there are better ways to react, aren’t there? Just- he just left. He didn’t even-

He realizes he’s crying and hurries to try to calm down. Damn his traitorous hormones, there’s really no need for these tears! He’ll be fine in any case; he’ll bring up his baby on his own and if Sherlock is simply going to ignore them both-

Well, that’s his loss.

Sherlock goes through his daily motions as if on an autopilot. Mycroft luckily just lets him be and that’s probably for the best; in his current state of mind is very likely things would end badly between them if they start arguing.

He’s not sure what he’s going to do, really. He knows that running away was probably ‘a bit not good’, but well… what did John expect? Probably nothing, he thinks bitterly. They’re supposed to be best friends; John was simply sharing the joyous news with him. He might be a little surprised and a tad concerned about Sherlock’s reaction but well-

Sherlock should apologise. But the thought of going back to John’s flat, of seeing him again, of smelling him-

God, he can’t do this.

Still, John is his best friend. He deserves- he should be there for him. Of course that’s the duty of whoever the baby’s other parent is but Sherlock should- he probably should-

It just hurts. The notion that John is expecting a child, that he’s probably going to mate whoever got him pregnant, that he’s in love with his baby’s other parent- Sherlock just can’t stand it.

He turns off his phone after John’s third call. He’s not ready to talk.

He’s not sure if he’ll ever be.

Horrible cramps wake him up in the middle of the night. It’s not something completely unusual; ever since he stopped taking birth control he experiments mild cramps in the days leading to his Heat, but-

No, wait a minute. Something’s not quite right-

John bolts out of the bed in a second, turning on the lights right away. Another cramp has him doubling over and he curses loudly, noticing the few droplets of blood on the bed from the corner of his eye and he sits on the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks. His heart aches even worse than his body does and he finds himself at loss of what to do.

The door to his bedroom opens and Bill and Mike storm in. Bill, ever practical, is looking around the room, searching for any sign of trouble while Mike hurries to his side, trying to help him to get up. Bill is the one who notices the blood and turns to stare at John with wide, pitying eyes that make John’s stomach turn unpleasantly.

“I need to go to the hospital,” he whispers softly, Mike finally succeeding on pulling him onto his feet. “I need-”

Another cramp interrupts him and he winces. The pain isn’t terrible, but he knows this could go very badly very quickly. His body is reacting to the stress of his feelings at being rejected; he brought this upon himself. He shouldn’t have let Sherlock’s rejection move him this badly; now his body is trying to get rid of what it perceives as the source of the trouble.

Bill picks him up while Mike fusses about him, calling a couple of their older friends who are already working at the hospital. John tries to keep breathing calmly, urging himself to calm down: panic will only make things worse. He needs to relax, he needs for his anxiety to drop if he’s going to pull through.

He tells himself that the bleeding is minimal, that while this isn’t normal, it doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll miscarriage. That he and his baby will be fine, they just need to get to hospital as soon as possible.

God, just when he thought things couldn’t get worse-

Chapter Text

John wakes up to the sound of the steady beating of the machinery around him. It’s a bit odd, to be at the hospital as a patient instead of as a doctor (or well, medical student) and for a few seconds, he’s not sure what happened. As the memories start coming back to him, he winces, his hand flying instantly to his abdomen. He doesn’t feel any different, but then, he had been very early in the pregnancy, his only symptoms being the morning sickness and the excessive tiredness.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

He turns to see the doctor walking in. His eyes widen and Sarah giggles cutely, her smile soft and gentle. “Hey,” he greets, feeling a bit out of his deep. “I didn’t- I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Sarah shrugs, coming to stand closer to him. “I’ve just started my residence,” she explains calmly. “I didn’t expect to see you here either,” she adds, a bit sadly and John has to look away, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

He had met Sarah at the school’s library and had been quite smitten with the girl at first sight. She was attractive, but also kind and sweet and they had started dating shortly after they met, things getting pretty serious pretty soon. Sarah was very understanding, never pressuring for anything and never once questioning his close friendship with Sherlock, something that he couldn’t say for any other of his previous relationships. She was older too, almost by 3 years, so she had been looking to settle down and John-

Well.

Sarah isn’t looking at him once he can bring himself to stare at her once more. She’s busy noting down his vitals, a small frown on her face. She’s chewing her lip nervously and John forces himself not to start panicking once more, but-

“It’s alright,” she tells him, turning to him once more and smiling. “You’re a bit dehydrated, but nothing worrisome. You didn’t lose much blood, although-”

“And my baby?” John asks, incapable of holding his anxiety back. Sarah’s smile drops a bit, making John’s heart fall to his feet and she hurries to try to reassure him.

“No, no, the baby is fine!” she assures him urgently. “I’m sorry, I just- God, I’m sorry John. I’m being unprofessional.”

John smiles sadly at her. “Nevermind. I- this is a bit awkward, isn’t it?”

Sarah chuckles without humor, shaking her head. “A bit, yes. I always- I know you said it wasn’t working anymore but I think I was still- silly, isn’t it?” her smile looks a tad forced and John’s heart aches. He wishes- “So, who’s the lucky Alpha? Do I know them?”

John bites his lip, staring at his folded hands on his lap as if they held all the answers in the world. “Sherlock. But we- that is, we aren’t-”

“Oh.” Sarah whispers, somewhat embarrassed. “I’m- I’m sorry.”

John nods, forcing his hurt to the back of his mind. “So, the baby is fine? What happened?”

Sarah stares at him for a beat, biting her lip. “I think that you should rest for now. I can bring you your file later, if you want, so you might read it for yourself?” she offers gently and although John doesn’t really want to do that, he guesses it might be for the best.

He does need to rest, after all. “Alright. Thanks Sarah.”

She offers him one last smile before exiting the room and John leans back on the pillows, closing his eyes and trying to relax.

It’ll be fine, won’t it?

When he wakes up again, visit hours must have already started because Mike and Bill are there. Or maybe they just sneaked in; he wouldn’t put it above them. He smiles at his friends, quietly reassured by their obvious concern.

Most people would say that an Omega sharing a flat with two Alphas was asking for trouble, but then, people tended to be ridiculously close minded and sexist. Mike had already been living at the flat they now shared when John started Uni and had invited him to share it after he heard John complaining about his terrible roommate at the school’s dorms. They got along just fine and Mike had been in a pretty committed relationship since highschool, so there was never any awkwardness between them.

Bill, on the other hand, was a sort of ex-boyfriend, but not really. John had been very clear from the beginning he didn’t want anything serious and neither had Bill, so they had hit off nicely. When things had cooled off, they had ended it and had parted ways amicably. Shortly after, Bill’s flatmate had moved to Manchester and John hadn’t see a problem with offering him the last empty room at their flat.

And so while he now lived with two Alphas, he was quite comfortable with his living arrangements. To be honest, he was really going to miss both males, having gotten quite close to them. Besides, the idea of heading back to his childhood home, which had always felt a bit… wrong wasn’t a very exciting prospect.

“I can’t believe we both missed it!” Bill exclaims, letting himself fall on the small chair next to the bed. Mike stands next to him, a small smile on his lips at Bill’s dramatics. John smiles at both, patting Bill’s hand.

“To be fair, our schedules rarely allow us to spend much time at the flat together,” John tells him.

“True,” Bill agrees, now looking serious and leaning closer. “But you should have told us.”

“Whatever for?” John asks, a bit defensively and Bill frowns. Next to him, Mike is biting his lip, looking a tad uncomfortable.

“Have you told- who’s the Alpha, anyway? I thought you were single again!” Bill continues, narrowing his eyes, looking ready to murder someone. He probably has figured out the other parent isn’t really going to be in the picture and that obviously sits ill with him.

“Bill, please. There’s no need-”

“No need!” his friend exclaims, standing up abruptly. “You almost had a miscarriage, John! And I’m almost certain that it was because the jerk of an Alpha who knocked you up rejected you, didn’t he?”

John takes a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. “He- that is- it’s not quite-”

“Give me the name, Johnny. I’m murdering him!”

“Bill!” John exclaims, a bit horrified, even if deep down the idea sounds a bit tempting. Sherlock is being quite a jerk, after all. “There’s really no need-”

“It’s Sherlock, isn’t it?” Mike interrupts and Bill turns to look at him, eyes narrowing further. “I saw him leaving the flat the other day. And when I came in you were… a bit out of sorts, I guess. You didn’t even notice me.”

John sighs, resting his head against the pillows once more. “Yes.”

“Sherlock?” Bill asks, frowning. “Your friend, Sherlock? Isn’t he a Beta?”

“He is,” John agrees. “But you know as well as I do that while the odds might be slim-”

“It’s not impossible.” Bill finishes for him, sitting down once more, looking defeated. “Oh, John, this- I’m- are you okay?”

John chuckles humorlessly. God, was he really that obvious? Did the whole world figure out how deeply in love he was with his friend before he did? “Evidently, I’m not. But I’ll be. Don’t worry about me guys, I’ll be fine. It’s just- I didn’t expect this to happen.” The other two males nod solemnly and John sighs once more. “It’s fine, really.”

No one says anything more.

There’s nothing to say, really.

The third time he wakes up, he has a new visitor. John’s eyes dart quickly towards the door, his heartbeat picking up speed and Greg politely pretends not to notice, keeping his eyes fixed on the window. When it becomes evident that the other male is on his own, John finds himself breathing a bit easier.

A part of him wants Sherlock to find out what happened, but another part-

“Mycroft probably already knows,” Greg tells him calmly, leaning back on his seat. “But he hasn’t been in touch and I really don’t know about Sherlock. Based on what your flatmates told me… I don’t understand, John.” The man leans closer, a slight frown on on his face. “What happened?”

He met Greg Lestrade when Sherlock convinced him of going looking for some evidence that was needed on a particularly troubling case of ‘serial suicides’. Since Sherlock had been visiting his grandparents in France, he hadn’t been able to do the searching himself, but he still had managed to deduce an awful lot based on what the press reported and then talked John into doing the dirty work himself. Unfortunately, the officers at the Yard hadn’t quite believed the story of Sherlock having deduced all that after reading the press reports and well… John had ended up locked up for a couple of nights. Greg Lestrade had been in charge of keeping an eye on him and they had somehow gotten along quite well, despite the unusual circumstances.

And then Mycroft had finally showed up to bail John out and well… John wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but from then on he would find himself occasionally acting as a middleman between Sherlock and Greg, when the later thought that the former’s expertise could be of use for a case. Of course it was all done unofficially and Greg could get into a lot of trouble if they were found out but Sherlock had actually managed to help him solve a few cases and had certainly contributed to Greg’s quick promotion to Sergeant, so it was all probably a calculated risk.

Besides, if anything went too wrong, it was entirely likely Mycroft would step in. Greg insisted there was nothing going on between them and John was inclined to believe him, because this was Mycroft Holmes they were talking about but-

Stranger things have happened, he guesses.

“Do you need anything?” Greg asks after a while, apparently completely comfortable with letting John get lost in his own thoughts and waiting patiently for him to come around. John smiles briefly; he has always liked how understanding Greg can be.

“Not really,” John responds sadly. “I just- I need to rest. I feel a bit drained out, to be honest.”

Greg nods, thoughtful. “You know you can count on me, right? I mean, my flat might be a little cramped for you and a baby, but it could work if-”

John smiles, a bit tearful. “It’s okay, Greg, really. I think I’ll just head back home after I’m done with this term. There’s- there’s no need-”

“But you love London,” the other interrupts calmly. “And- well, if you want to be around your family during all this… well, that’s alright, I guess, but if you want to stay here… I mean, I’m sure Mike and Bill will say you can stay at the flat with them, but they’re studying and they have enough odd hours as it is… And I think Molly and I could work out a schedule to help you watch over the baby, if you want to carry on studying-”

John is crying by now and Greg looks in the verge of panicking. It’s obvious his intention was to reassure him and now he’s worried he has only gotten him all worked up, but that’s not really it: the thing is that John is a bit overwhelmed by the support he’s being offered, especially when his baby’s other father-

Well. Better not to think about that.

“Thanks Greg,” he whispers. “I- I’ll keep that in mind.”

The officer smiles hesitantly, before standing up and patting his shoulder awkwardly. “I’ll see you around, yes? I really need to get back to work now.”

John nods and watches as the other male leaves the room, leaving him alone with his dark thoughts once more. It’s true that he loves London, but he feels like he’s going to need all the support he can get and who better for that than his family? Then he remembers things between him and Harry are shaky at best and while he loves his mother dearly, their personalities clash too much for things to run smoothly between them.

Still, he would hate to impose on his friends.

Well, he still has time to think about it, doesn’t he?

“You’re going to keep it?”

John stares at Sarah for a beat, unsure if he’s really meant to answer that. It’s an odd question really, didn’t she notice his anxiety at the thought of losing the baby? If he didn’t want to carry the child full term, he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did, would he? If his intention had been all along to have an abortion-

“He hasn’t come to visit you once, John,” she tells him, as if he needed a reminder. He looks away, biting his lip. He has mixed feelings about Sherlock’s absence, but he’s unwilling to discuss them with his ex girlfriend.

After a while, he turns to stare at Sarah once more. He had thought things could really work between them, because she was exactly what he thought he wanted in a Mate. While he had never really put much thought on settling down, always being perfectly happy with much more casual relationships, something about Sarah had made him think of marrying and having a family. But then-

If he’s honest with himself, he knows that while he had begun considering the whole bonding issue while dating Sarah, the one he had always imagined himself spending the rest of his life with was Sherlock. And now he knows that Sherlock most definitely doesn’t feel that way, but it really doesn’t change anything, does it? He still loves him and… well, it might be selfish, but if this child is all he can have from the man he loves-

“I’m keeping him,” he utters firmly, a hand over his still flat abdomen. Sarah sighs, shaking her head.

“You realize it’s going to be very difficult, right? Chances of miscarriage and/or earlier births when the parents aren’t bonded-”

“I know,” John interrupts her calmly. “I’ll take my chances.”

Sarah sighs once more, knowing it’s impossible to make him change his mind once he has decided on something. She nods to herself once, apparently resigned. “You’ll need to come for a checkup every four weeks, just to make sure everything is progressing accordingly. I guess you can carry on with school, maybe even further than just finishing this term, although you have to make sure you’re not overexerting yourself. You ought to eat healthy and-”

“Sarah, I’m a doctor too,” he interrupts her once more, placing a hand over her arm. “Well, medical student. But I do know how these things work; I know how to take care of myself.”

Sarah nods once more. “Just- call me if you need anything, alright?”

John smiles sadly. “I will.”

With that, Sarah turns around to exit the room, carrying with her the papers needed to discharge him. John sighs, resting his head against the pillows and repeating to himself, for what feels like the hundredth time, that everything is going to be fine.

Now, if only he could believe it…

Mycroft Holmes stares at John’s hospital file for the longest time, debating with himself whether or not letting his brother know what happened. On one hand, Sherlock would certainly want to be informed of John’s near miscarriage, but on the other hand-

He had always known things would end up badly between Sherlock and John. It was inevitable, really: no matter what you do, you can’t make people fall in love with you. Love is something that either happens naturally, or it doesn’t happen at all. And for all of John’s fondness of the younger Holmes, it had never turned into the deep affection Sherlock felt for him.

So it was inevitable that sooner or later he would end up breaking Sherlock’s heart. Mycroft had just been hoping-

Well, never mind that. Back to the matter at hand, to tell or not to tell-

He rereads the file, biting his lip. The information on the baby’s other parent is empty, which is a tad unusual. Such information is supposed to be vital to ensure there’ll be no further complications during the pregnancy; things as chronical and inheritable diseases, along with blood type and any other needed considerations are supposed to be listed there. Why would John chose not to fill that form? It seems quite reckless of him and even if the other parent isn’t really going to be in the picture-

And that’s an interesting possibility, isn’t it? If John is going to have to bring up a child on his own, it’s entirely likely Sherlock will like to help. Although- maybe not right away. His poor baby brother is still nursing a broken heart, so maybe-

Better not to start speculating before he has all the facts, really.

Chapter Text

It’s all Irene’s fault, really.

Irene, who decided to throw a party the Friday before they all had to head back to their respective universities. Irene, who for some reason had let everyone at their highschool believe she was dating Sherlock. Irene, who had decided to make out with her best friend Kate in the middle of said party, right where everyone could see them.

Sherlock had never bothered to correct everyone’s assumption that he was dating Irene. It seemed like too much of an effort and it’s not like it affected him in any way. The only person he was interested in didn’t reciprocate his feelings and so people believing he was ‘ off the market ’ actually proved quite advantageous on occasion.

But that night- well, John had assumed he was feeling brokenhearted and had pulled him out of the party right away. In retrospective, it is quite ironic, isn't it? John had slept with him because he had thought he was brokenhearted and by doing so he had effectively torn Sherlock’s heart to pieces.

But to be fair- Sherlock shouldn’t have let it happen. John had been drinking and although he was far from being drunk, he certainly had been behaving quite affectionately and so-

So you hadn’t been dating her?

No, he hadn’t and as he had explained his reasons for letting the lie stand (omitting some painful truths), John had smiled and laughed and then he had asked him if he had ever even kissed someone and then-

Let me kiss you. Let me show you what you’re missing.

And like the fool he was, he had agreed. And of course he couldn’t stop at just one kiss; he had pulled John into another one when his friend had tried to pull away and soon enough things had gotten heated. John had climbed into his lap and they had started pulling at their clothes and then-

Sherlock told himself it didn’t mean anything. Just a little comfort between friends, nothing special really. They didn’t discuss it the next day and he was happy letting the matter lay. Or at least that’s what he had told himself, because deep down-

Well, that’s what he gets for hoping, doesn't he?

God, what a fool he is.

The trip back to Cambridge is an actual nightmare, time seemingly having slowed down and speeded up simultaneously. By the time he gets off the train, Sherlock is fairly certain he’s about to be sick but he somehow manages to make it back to his dorm room without vomiting.

His phone is still off, since he really doesn’t have the mental strength necessary to even consider calling/answering John’s calls. He suspects he might have a few angry texts waiting for him too and that’s really a dreadful prospect so-

For now, he decides to simply go to sleep. Maybe tomorrow he’ll be feeling stronger.

Maybe not.

There are no angry texts and that’s more than a tad worrying, but Sherlock refuses to panic just yet. Maybe John is just giving him space, having figured out he needs time to sort out through his feelings. Or maybe John has finally caught up with the deep of Sherlock’s affections and has decided to pull away for both of their sakes.

He’s not certain what to think and that’s a first, isn’t it?

In any case, staying locked up in his room might not be the best of ideas. Although he doesn’t particularly fancy running into anyone, he figures a stroll around the campus might be the best way to clear up his mind.

Of course his peaceful stroll gets interrupted, but he can’t bring himself to be too annoyed at the girl. In any case, Irene’s idle chatter might be a better way to keep his thoughts from going to the love of his life and the child he’s expecting.

“So, how did it go?” Irene questions happily, linking their arms together. “Did you finally confessed your undying love for each other?”

Then again, maybe not. “John’s pregnant.”

Irene stops dead on her tracks, her grip on his arm tightening. Her eyes go wide as saucers and her jaw drops to the ground; saying she’s surprised would be the understatement of the century. “What?!” she demands, somewhere between angry and confused.

Sherlock shrugs, “what you heard.”

“No, no!” Irene exclaims, “that can’t be! You two- Wait, isn’t the baby yours?”

Sherlock rolls his eyes. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Sherlock-”

“The odds of that happening are practically non existent, especially since we slept together once.”

“That’s all that’s needed, really,” she argues, shrugging. She pauses for a beat, thinking about something. “I thought he wasn’t dating anymore?”

Sherlock shrugs once more. “I’m guessing he got back together with Sarah. ” He makes a face, barely managing to contain his dislike of the woman. There’s nothing wrong with her, of course, but he was always so ridiculously jealous of her- and now-

Irene’s eyes are filled with pity and Sherlock can’t stand to stare at her, so he pulls his arm free and hurries down the road, ignoring the female’s cries for him to wait for her. “Sherlock, wait! I- I’m- I don’t know what to say.” She finally catches up with him and makes him stop walking. “I’m sorry.”

Sherlock closes his eyes, knowing he has no right to feel this angry; it’s not like John owes his heart any promises, but he had thought- “It’s all your fault, really,” he accuses Irene, a bit playfully, eager to dissolve the tension between them.

“My fault?!” she exclaims dramatically, having caught on on his intention and willing to play along. “How is it any of it my fault? Did I throw you into his waiting arms?”

This isn’t working. “Yes,” Sherlock hisses and Irene offers him a sad smile.  “Listen, could we- could we talk about something else?”

The female bits her lip, uncertain, but finally nods, linking their arms together once more. She puts on a smile and starts chattering about her latest argument with a professor, effectively pulling Sherlock out of his dark thoughts for the time being.

Later, he’ll have to think about what he’s going to do about John.

But that can wait.

He’s not sure why he chooses to torture himself like this, just as he’s not certain why his brother lets him. Mycroft has always made his thoughts on his relationship with John very clear, so Sherlock doesn’t know why he has agreed to share the recordings from the CCTV in John’s building.

Probably because he knows that if he didn’t, Sherlock would find a way to obtain them either way.

The recordings from the weekend are missing, but Sherlock isn’t particularly troubled by this. In any case, he’s not sure what he’s looking for, really. Clues of John’s newest partner, he guesses; confirmation of his theory on who the other parent is. It’s a bad idea, he knows, and yet-

He goes through the recordings methodically; nothing seems to be out of the norm. And then, one day late at night, Mrs. Watson and Harry Watson show up. Expected really; John would inform his family of his impending fatherhood and his mother and sister would hurry to his side, probably to yell at him a little for getting into this situation when he’s supposed to be studying. But Sherlock also knows both women will end up being supportive, even if they don’t quite approve.

It would made sense for John’s partner to show up now. Sherlock stops the recordings for a few minutes, forcing himself to go through them. He wants to know; more importantly, he needs to know-

No one else shows up that night (apart from John’s flatmates) and so Sherlock spends the next few minutes pacing around the room, wondering what does that mean. Is it possible that the baby is product of a one night stand? There’s a chance that’s the case, of course, but despite all of John’s sentimentality, Sherlock doubts his friend would be willing to risk his future for a child whose other parent means nothing to him. There’s of course also the slimmest chance that the baby is in fact his , but if that was the case-

If that was case John would have already tried to contact him again, wouldn’t he? And anyway, that possibility seems so far fetched-

But it’s a possibility, isn’t it? A warm feeling starts spreading across his chest, as he imagines a small child that’s the perfect mixture of his and John’s features. The idea of John carrying their baby, the notion that they could be a family-

Is that it? Is he being a fool? Was John trying to tell him they were going to be parents and he had run out on him? Oh, God, if that’s the case-

He has to apologise. He realizes he’s smiling like a madman and lets out a delighted giggle, because as angry as John might be, he knows he’ll eventually forgive him, especially once he explains the reasons for his sudden departure. It seems so crazy and yet-

His eyes fall back onto his computer, where the recordings are still playing. When he goes to stop them, his eyes catch sight of a familiar profile making her way towards John’s apartment and his heart stops. Sarah looks terribly tired and he can read on her gait and clothes that she’s already doing her residency and that she had a long day at work, but that’s unimportant. What really matters here-

She knocks on the door and that’s when Sherlock notices she’s carrying a small carton box with her. He frowns, peering at the video, trying to see what’s in it, but the camera resolution isn’t that good and so he finds impossible to discern the box’s contents. The door opens shortly after and John’s the one answering. The male smiles at Sarah (or so it seems) and lets her in.

Sherlock’s heart has dropped to his feet and he forwards the recording. Sarah stays at the flat for around three hours and when she exits it, John is with her. They talk on the hall for a while; he can’t see Sarah’s face but he can see John’s bittersweet smile and in the end she says something that makes him chuckle, before leaning to peck his cheek. John smiles, allowing her to pull him into into a hug that last a little too long for it to be merely friendly. The angle of the camera doesn’t let him see it, but he can tell Sarah kisses John again before pulling away and leaving.

Sherlock closes his eyes, his heart breaking once more. God, what a fool he is.

He’ll never learn, will he?

“Enough is enough!” an entirely too cheerful voice exclaims, peeling the covers off him, while someone else is opening the curtains. Sherlock groans, attempting to put the pillow over his head, but his mysterious attacker snatches it from his grasp, making him groan once more. “Up, up!” the voice continues, urging him to sit and Sherlock lets out a pained noise, which promptly goes ignored. “Up you go!” the voice insists, pushing him out of the bed and he lands on the floor, his limbs tangled. “We’re going out!” the voice proclaims and Sherlock just shakes his head, refusing to move.

“Dramatic, ain’t he?” another voice intervenes and the first one huffs.

“Do you want me to call for reinforcement, Sherlock?” Irene asks threatenly, her lips pressed into a very thin line. “I’m calling Mycroft if you don’t get up RIGHT NOW. ” When Sherlock just groans once again, she sighs dramatically, pulling her phone out. “I warned you.”

Sherlock sits up, snatching her phone from her grasp. The female glares at him and he glares right back, still refusing to move, but mostly awake now. “What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t been to class in days, ” she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Which, granted, isn’t terribly unusual but- you haven’t left your room at all, have you?”

Sherlock shrugs, non committedly and Irene sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Have you eaten at all?”

“What’s the point?” he challenges, standing up just to collapse back onto his bed. “I’m not hungry.”

Irene exchanges a worried look with Kate and then turns to him once more. “Sherlock, I know that things are a bit… difficult right now.” He snorts and she carries on, trying to keep her frustration at bay. “But you’re not going to solve anything by staying in your room and moping.”

“There’s nothing to solve,” Sherlock protests softly. “John is going to move on with his life and I-”

“Oh, dear Lord!” Irene exclaims, attempting to push him off his bed once more. “Yes, okay, we get it. You’re brokenhearted, you’ll never love again, boohoo!” She pushes him once more, not managing to make him move and so she settles for hitting his arm repeatedly. “Spare me the dramatics. Get up and-”

“I don’t want to-”

“Well, too bad!” Irene exclaims, her frustration finally getting the best of her. “Do you think you’re the first person whose love of his life ends up marrying someone else? But you need to move on! What use is it-?”

“What use is it moving on?” Sherlock challenges, finally standing up, hovering over her, glaring darkly. “I don’t want to move on. I just- I can’t.”

“Sherlock-”

“No,” he interrupts, turning away from her, dismissing her. “I want to be alone.”

“Sherlock-” she tries again, because while their relationship might be complicated they’re something like friends and friends look after each other, don’t they?

“Please Irene, just- not now.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but Kate places a hand over her arm and shakes her head, effectively stopping her. Irene sighs, rubbing a hand over her face, feeling defeated. “Alright. Not now,” she agrees. “But soon.”

Sherlock nods, although she suspects he isn’t really paying attention to her. With a last sigh, the female allows Kate to lead her out of the room, leaving Sherlock with only his dark thoughts for company.

God, what happens now?

He doesn’t think he’ll move ever again. It feels like too much of an effort and he’s really comfortable like this so-

It’s been a week since he last talked to John and it’s starting to take a toll on him. They had never gone this long without speaking, usually exchanging at least a couple of texts every morning, a few more along the day and sometimes a quick call before bed. He’s been tempted more than once to call or just send a text, but-

John is his best friend and he used to think that nothing would change that. But the idea of seeing John happily mated, of seeing him carrying someone else’s child- it’s more than his sanity can take. His behavior is deplorable, he’s being unfair and selfish and John is probably very confused, yet-

Still, John hasn’t attempted to contact him either and that stings. Then again, John must be terribly busy, having many things to figure out before the baby is born, like where they’re going to live and what is he going to do about his studies and-

God, he should be there for him. As his best friend, he should be right there, helping him figure things out. Sure, he’s got Sarah and all of his Uni friends, but surely- surely Sherlock-

He can’t, though. He really, really can’t. He’s not strong enough. He hurts too much and he’s so… jealous, he wishes so desperately that John had chosen him-

But that was never going to happen. He knew that and yet-

How foolish he had been.

Chapter Text

Monday is hellish. He’s still bone tired due his trip to the hospital and he aches all over, both physically and emotionally. He spends most of the day lost in his thoughts, which of course his professors notice and while some seem sympathetic, most aren’t.

He just needs to survive this term. He technically could make it through the next one too; by June he would only be 6 months along, but as Sarah pointed out, pregnancies where the parents aren’t bonded are quite unpredictable and if something was to happen to his child, he would never forgive himself.

Then again, he needs to figure out what’s he going to do once the baby is actually born. He’ll lose his scholarship and so he won’t be able to continue paying for rent; he knows Mike and Bill won’t kick him out regardless and it’s not like they can’t afford the rent between the two of them. Still, it feels wrong somehow and so going back home does seem like the more feasible option.

And when the baby is born- god, how is he going to pay for the medical bills, anyway? He has some meagre savings, that’s true, but- and the baby is going to need tons of stuff, how is he going to afford that? He’s going to need a job, isn’t he? But it’ll have to be part time and-

Oh god, he really didn’t think this through, did he?

He could always go to the Holmes for help, though. Sherlock’s parents aren’t exactly rich, but they’re fairly well off and Mrs. Holmes has always liked him, so even if Sherlock wants nothing to do with their child, his mother isn’t likely to turn her back on them. The idea however, sits ill with him. To think of Mrs. Holmes caring after his baby while Sherlock-

Well. He really ought not to worry about that just yet. It’s an option, of course, but it should be his last option. He chose to have this child, regardless of their other father’s wishes and so he’ll have to figure this out on his own.

Still-

He eyes his phone warily, hurt that Sherlock still hasn’t called. He understands he needs time to process everything, but he honestly hoped to have heard from him by now. Besides, he’s still clinging to the ridiculous hope that he’ll come around and-

There’s also the matter that he nearly had a miscarriage. Doesn’t Sherlock care, at least a little bit? He might not want their baby, but doesn’t he care enough about John’s health to at least ask after it? Then again, maybe he didn’t even find out: nor Mike or Bill or Greg would have called him and Mycroft- Mycroft might have decided not to intervene, for once in his life.

Should he call, then? Should he let him know that he’s fine, that they’re fine, that there’s nothing to worry about? Would he even care?

He realizes he’s crying once more and he huffs in frustration. Stupid hormones are going to drive him mad.

Wiping off his tears furiously, he decides to wait a week. It seems like a logical, standard time to wait for Sherlock to cool off (not that John believes he has reasons to be angry or upset, really) and if his friend hasn’t called by then- he’ll take the first step. And if even then Sherlock refuses to- to-

One week.

Sounds like a good plan.

He’s not entirely surprised when his mother steps into the flat, closely followed by Harry. In fact, he might say he’s surprised by how long it took: it’s Wednesday, after all.

“Mom! Harry!” he exclaims, with a falsely cheerful smile on his face, going to hug both women. “What a surprise!”

His mother slaps his arm painfully and John flinches. She’s angry, he can tell and he knows better than to say anything, but- “Pregnant? Really, John? Didn’t I teach you better than that?” He recoils a bit and his mother carries on, undeterred. “And then we have to find out through a phone call from the hospital, after you nearly miscarried! What were you thinking, John Hamish Watson?!”

He wasn’t and that’s the plain truth. He had always been careful, not only always having protected sex, but letting his partners know exactly what he expected or didn’t expect from the relationship. But with Sherlock- he had been careless, not thinking of the consequences, something that is quite the norm when his friend is involved.

His mother must see how upset he is, for her expression softens a bit before she pulls him into a crushing hug. “Oh, you silly boy. It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.”

He realizes there are tears streaming down his cheeks and he curses loudly. His mother chuckles, wiping them off and steering him to the couch, making him sit down once more. Harry smiles hesitantly at him, strangely quiet, taking a seat next to their mother.

Mike shows up with tea and biscuits then, offering John a smile. John smiles back and his friend retreats back to his room, leaving the Watsons to discuss this new development. “So,” his mother says, after having poured some tea for each of them, her tone carefully cheerful. “Do I know the other parent?”

John sighs, bracing himself for what is to come. “Yes.”

The older female nods, thoughtful. “Is it Sarah?” she asks after a while, probably having gone through her mental record of John’s partners that she has actually met and coming up with the most likely solution. John closes his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath, before shaking his head. His mother makes a soft (disappointed?) sound. “Who, then?”

“It’s Sherlock,” he confesses, unintentionally recoiling. He keeps his eyes closed, not sure he wants to see his mother’s or sister’s expression and for the longest time, there’s no reaction at all, so he dares to take a peek and promptly regrets it. His mother has gone very pale, her eyes wide as saucers and Harry looks ready to spring and go after his friend, probably to murder him in some horrid fashion.

Neither female has shied away from letting him know their thoughts on Sherlock Holmes. His mother has never approved of their friendship, having always thought the other male too odd and Harry has always thought he’s unbelievably rude and annoying so…

Not that John had cared ever before. Now though-

“Oh, Johnny,” his mother whispers, pulling him into another hug. “He rejected you, didn’t he?”

Tears sting his eyes, but he tells himself not to cry. He did, of course he did, because why wouldn’t he? Sherlock has always been- John always knew it wouldn’t work, that things would go to hell if he ever told Sherlock how he felt about him and yet he had gone and-

“It’s going to be alright,” his mother promises, running her fingers through his short hair. “We’ll manage, you’ll see.”

John chuckles humorlessly.

It’s a cold consolation.

His mother and sister stay the night and probably would stay much longer if John allowed it, but he insists he has classes and exams and convinces them he’s going to be fine. He’s not sure how he’s going to survive both females fussing over him once he goes back home, but well…

He has time to figure something out.

The next morning, while they’re having breakfast, there’s a knock on the door and John hurries to open it. He does love his family, really, it’s just that sometimes he finds them a little suffocating.

Sarah stands at the door, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail, looking bone tired. She smiles brightly at him and John tries to smile back, even if he feels a bit wary, unsure of what she’s doing here. “I brought you some stuff,” she says, dragging his attention to the box she’s carrying. “My sister had some baby things from her last child and- well, I thought-” she shrugs, a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. “I thought you might find them useful.”

John is unsure of what exactly he can answer to that, so he nods numbly and allows her in. Sarah leans in to peck his cheek and he lets her, his mind blank. She’s just- she’s just being nice, isn’t she? She has no hidden intentions, has she? No, Sarah wouldn’t-

“Oh, Mrs. Watson!” she greets happily, going to kiss the older woman on both cheeks. “And Harry! What a pleasure to see you here!”

As the females go through cheerful greetings and quickly move to some topic or another, chatting amicably among them, looking honestly comfortable in each other’s company, John focuses on his own breakfast. He feels a tad unnerved, to be honest, but as time passes and the women continue happily talking, he relaxes a tiny bit.

How much easier his life would have been if Sarah had been the one to knock him up, he thinks bitterly. His mother and sister like her well enough and while she’s still studying, she’s almost a full trained doctor. But more than that, Sarah had honestly loved him; she would have taken good care of him and their baby. She wouldn’t have rejected him, she would have-

God, what is he even thinking? Sure, Sarah is practically the perfect Mate, but he isn’t in love with her. And Sherlock might be being a complete ass, but he’s the one that he’s madly in love with and to be honest, despite of how things turned out between them, he can’t bring himself to regret anything: not their night together, certainly not their friendship. Sure, things are pretty complicated right now, but-

But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sarah leaves some three hours later, since she has to go back to the hospital. She says goodbye to the Watson women and John walks her out, feeling unnerved once more.

“Thanks for everything.” He opens the door and they step into the hall, away from his family’s entirely too curious stare. “I- I really appreciate it.”

Sarah smiles gently. “I still have more stuff, so I might make a few trips on the next days,” she informs him and John opens his mouth to protest, so she hurries to carry on. “Baby stuff is really expensive, John and- well. I know you’re pretty much on your own so I thought- Let me help?”

“Why?” he asks, warily, not wanting to be ungrateful, but-

She bites her lip, hesitant. “Look John, I- You know how I felt about you. I just- I want to help, honest. I’m not expecting anything in exchange, I swear, I just want to make sure you’re alright. I care about you. I want you to be happy, or happish, even if- even if it’s not with me.”

A bittersweet smile makes it’s way to his face. “Thank you Sarah. I’m- I’m sorry for-”

“No, no, I get it,” she interrupts him. “The heart wants what it wants. Pity, though.”

John chuckles humorlessly. “You’re right.”

She offers him another smile, before leaning to peck his cheek. John closes his eyes, allowing himself to be comforted and she pulls him into a warm hug, that he’s afraid will break him. He manages not to start crying though, and pulls back smiling once more. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, pecking his cheek once more. “I’ll see you later!” she adds, as she starts walking down the hall, towards the elevator. John watches her go, a sad smile on his lips.

The heart wants what it wants, certainly.

Why must his want what he can’t have?

A week and still no call from his friend . By the time he has managed to gather his courage it’s near midnight, but he tells himself he ought not to keep postponing it. Besides, it’s not like Sherlock has an actual sleep schedule, so…

He dials Sherlock’s number and waits. His heart is beating very fast inside his chest and his hands are sweaty, but he forces himself to endure.

He can do this. He must do this.

“ello?” a sleepy voice answers and John’s heart stops.

“Irene?”

“Um? Oh, John!” she exclaims, still half asleep. “How are you?”

Why does Irene have Sherlock phone? Why is she- what are they- Sherlock said-

Oh god, what a fool he has been. “Fine, thank you. Pregnant, too, has Sherlock mentioned that?” he says, his tone dripping venom, too angry to care that his rage is being unleashed on the wrong person, but to think-

“Yes, he-” a mumble that’s distinctly Sherlock’s in the background and John’s heart constricts painfully. “Listen Sherlock is- well. We had a bit of a crazy night and he’s sleeping it off, do you think you could call tomorrow?” she sounds a bit more alert, but there’s a certain slur in her voice that tells John all he really needs to know. “I’m sorry John, but I really think-”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine,” he says, closing his eyes to stop tears from falling. “I understand. Just- Right. Sorry for waking you up.” Irene hums and John ends the call, throwing his phone against the wall and allowing himself to break down. He hugs his knees to his chest, crying his heart out, feeling like someone has torn his insides into a million pieces.

God, he’s such an idiot.

A hopeless idiot.

Sherlock wakes up with a start, feeling a bit fuzzy. He frowns as he tries to recall what exactly happened the night before and also figure out what’s that warm weight on top of him.

He looks over his shoulder to find Irene lying diagonally on top him, her long hair covering half of her face. Her makeup is a mess, smeared all over, but that provides very little insight of how they ended in this position. Her morning breath, that stinks of stale beer, is much more helpful.

“Dammit,” he whispers softly, wondering how to stand up without waking her up. He’s not nearly heartless enough to just move without a care: it’s pretty obvious the girl will be hungover when she wakes up and so too much movement will only make her feel worse.

He somehow manages to roll of the bed, landing with a soft thud. On the chair at the corner of the room, Kate shifts, making a soft sound of protest and settles right after. Such a terrible girlfriend, Sherlock thinks, rolling his eyes, as he looks at Irene still deeply asleep on the bed. A good partner would have left their Omega the more comfortable surface to sleep, but then, Kate probably hadn’t wanted to share bed with him and Irene has never bother with personal space, always being far too touchy feely for Sherlock’s comfort.

Now that he thinks about it, maybe that’s what sparked the rumors of them dating back in high school.

He looks around the room, his frown firmly in place. Although he has a more or less good idea of what happened, there are pieces missing. He guesses Irene showed up with a ridiculous amount of beers and convinced him to drink his troubles away. Why Kate went along with it, seeing she has far more common sense than them both put together, he can only begin to guess, but then-

He doesn’t drink, as a general rule, and more than a few beers usually make him sleepy, more than anything else. It’s a real wonder he managed to make it John’s house, let alone sleep with him the last time he drank, really. So he’s not surprised he passed out, what he finds surprising is that his drinking companions stayed. Then, knowing Irene…

The girl groans, rolling on her side and promptly going back to sleep. Sherlock sighs, running a hand through his messy curls and that’s when he notices his phone peeking from underneath Irene. He retrieves it, his frown deepening, wondering how it ended on the bed when he’s certain he left it on his desk the night before.

Oh god, he didn’t do anything stupid, did he? Like… texting John and confessing his undying love, did he? of course not, he would remember-

He gulps, unlocking the phone while his heart starts pounding furiously. He goes through his texts and finds nothing unusual, making him breathe easier. He then realizes he might have called and his dread returns tenfold. Nothing for it, so he braves it and goes through his call history.

There’s an incoming call from John, close to midnight. His heart skips a beat and then he frowns once more, realizing someone answered. Since he has absolutely no recollection of that happening, there’s a good chance that Irene answered and that-

He forgets all about nasty hangover headaches and reaches for Irene. The female groans, batting his hands away as he tries to shake her awake, but finally she opens her eyes and glares at him.

“I’m trying to sleep,” she tells him darkly, still mostly asleep. “You better-”

“John called last night,” he interrupts her and Irene seems more awake at that. “You talked to him.”

She frowns, still laying on bed, looking mostly confused. “I did? I… oh, yes! He wanted to talk to you!” she states, suddenly wide awake, sitting up and smiling like the madwoman she is. “He said he wanted to talk to you!”

Sherlock’s heart is beating furiously inside his chest, nervousness and gladness battling an old war between them. He’s happy John called, of course and also worried, but the fact that his best friend reached out for him- Maybe, maybe-

“Call him back, you idiot!” Irene tells him, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Come on, call him!”

Sherlock nods, feeling as if in trance. John was always so much better at handling the emotional component of their relationship, always taking the first step to fix things between them when something happened. Of course he’s still marrying someone else and having a baby with them, but at least-

“Hello?”

It’s not until John answers, his voice groggy with sleep, that Sherlock stops to wonder if it might be too early to be calling. Too late for those considerations, though, so- “Hello, John.”

“Ah,” John sounds far from pleased, but then, he has just woken up, so Sherlock is willing to think that his indifference isn’t directed at him. “Sherlock. I- Umm- listen I, I called last night-”

“Yes, Irene told me you wanted to talk to me,” he interrupts, eager to get to the part where things go back to normal, even if in this case-

An humorless chuckle than sounds far too much like a sob. “Yes, well, that. Umm… the thing is-” John sounds nervous, uncomfortable. Sherlock frowns, more than a tad worried. “Listen, I just- There are many things going on in my life right now. With the baby and everything I just- I don’t think I can do this right now. So I- I do believe we need to talk, really talk but maybe- maybe it’s best if we wait. At least until the baby is born, ok? I’m- I’m sorry Sherlock.”

Sherlock doesn’t answer, too busy trying not to fall apart. He nods mechanically and promptly realizes John can’t see him, so he manages to murmur something affirmative and wish John luck (or something like that) and then he hangs up, collapsing on the bed shortly after, clutching his phone like his life depended on it.

“Sherlock?” Irene whispers, worried. “Is it- What happened?”

He closes his eyes, willing himself not to cry. “He said he doesn’t want to talk to me until the baby is born.”

Irene growls and Sherlock turns to her, startled. He’s quite surprised by the anger reflected in her features, along with the pity and sadness in her eyes. “How dare he?!” she demands, standing up immediately, looking for her own phone. “I’m going to give him a piece of my mind; if that jerk thinks-”

“Irene.” He reaches for her, stopping her mid search. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t-?” she growls again, glaring at him. “Don’t be an idiot, Sherlock. This is going to kill you.”

He sighs, tiredly. “I’ll be fine. Not- not right now, but at some point. I just- I want to be alone for now.”

“We understand,” Kate seems to have woken up in the middle of the commotion and is now standing next to Irene, effectively silencing her by not-so-gently squeezing her arm. “We’ll leave you on your own now,” she adds with a pointed glare in Irene’s direction and the Alpha acquiesces, even if she looks far from pleased.

“Thank you, Kate,” he says as the women exit the room and the girl offers him a small, tight smile. Irene is still frowning, but she lets her girlfriend drag her out of the room, after sending one last concerned glance in Sherlock’s direction.

Once alone, he allows himself to break down.

What is he going to do now?

Chapter Text

When Bill wakes up the next morning, he’s more than a tad concerned by all the noise coming from the kitchen. He can hear pans and pots being moved around, cabinets being opened and closed with a little too much force. He glances at the clock which proclaims it’s 10 o’clock and he groans lightly. It’s Sunday, for someone’s sake! Can’t he sleep late on a freaking Sunday?

This last week has been hell, really. Since the previous weekend, with John and the trip to the hospital and-

Oh, god. John.

He’s out of bed in a flash, hurrying towards the kitchen. By the continuous noise, it seems John is perfectly fine, but he would rather not risk it.

“-sleeping with Irene! Irene bloody Adler! After he told me that they weren’t- God, I’m an idiot!” John throws something and Bill flinches as he hears the sound of something breaking. “How did I miss it, Mike?”

Mike stares at the mess of pots, pans and china all around the room and nods along John’s tale, looking as sleepy as Bill feels. The older male offers him a quick smile as a greeting and gestures for him to sit, as John carries on with his monologue, undeterred by the lack of answer or by the appearance of his other flatmate.

“God, why couldn’t I just fall in love with a nice Alpha? Why did I have to go and fall for a pompous brilliant jerk that-? God, here I am, carrying our baby and he’s out and about, not caring at all, with fucking Irene Adler!”

“I’m sensing you don’t like this Irene,” Bill comments off handedly, warily eying the toast John is making. It’s an awful lot of toast, really. They don’t need this much, do they? Even if John is eating for two-

“Oh, I don’t like her alright! Sherlock’s girlfriend all through highschool, even though he told me- Before we- He said they weren’t dating!” he exclaims once more, slamming the pan against the counter and startling both Alphas. “God, why did I believe him?”

“Maybe they just- maybe he forgot his phone or something,” Mike offers gently. “Maybe you should talk to him before you jump into any conclusions-”

“Oh, I talked to him this morning!” John yells, waving his hands wildly about. “He says, ‘Irene told me you wanted to talk to me’ and so I tell him I can’t do this right now, that I’m enough of a mess due my hormones without him wreaking havoc on my heart and he says- he says-” he covers his mouth, closing his eyes and Mike and Bill are at his side in a flash, Bill pulling him into his arms as John dissolves into tears. “ I understand. Good luck with that, John.” Bill tampers down his first instinct to go murder Sherlock Holmes and settles from hugging John tighter. “God, I’m such an idiot!”

“You’re not an idiot, John,” Mike assures him, patting his back awkwardly. “We’re all a little silly when it comes to love.” John cries harder and both Alphas share a panicked look. “Do you- I should- I’m calling Greg,” he announces and Bill nods, another Omega’s insight wouldn’t go amiss.

If nothing else, it should help him and Mike. The overpowering smell of an Omega in distress is making them both ansty and that won't end well.

The sooner Greg Lestrade gets here, the better.

Mycroft wonders if locking Sherlock up somewhere would be a good idea. He knows his brother doesn’t deal well with emotions and after his little conversation with John-

It’s not that Mycroft invades his brother’s privacy often. It’s just that- well, considering the circumstances, he had thought it might be a good idea to keep a closer eye on his sibling and so he ended up hacking his phone and listening to his conversation and, well-

It’s all for his own good, really.

Of course he feels guilty about it, but what was he to do? It’s not like his brother is going to talk to him about his feelings and Mycroft likes to be prepared. He knows they’re heading for an emotional breakdown and he needs to be ready to deal with it.

He closes his eyes and tells himself he’s doing the right thing.

It doesn’t really help.

The thing is that Greg likes Sherlock. Sure, the man is infuriating and rude and they have never really met, but well, they have spoken on the phone often enough for him to get a good picture of him.

Or at least he used to think so, now he’s not quite sure. He always believed there was something else going on between him and John, even if they both were a little too daft to notice it. To be honest, a romantic relationship would have felt like the natural progression  and so he hadn’t been exactly surprised when he found out they were having a baby. But Sherlock’s reaction-

Now that’s more than a bit strange.

It’s true that Sherlock doesn’t seem like someone who really knows how to deal with emotional components, but he’s not heartless. And Greg does believe he loves John, so the fact that he left-

There’s something wrong with that picture.

He allows John to rant and vent, nodding along whatever the blond is saying. It’s not like John really expects anyone to say anything; he just needs to get things off his chest. He’s angry, upset and he’s hurting, so Greg must simply let him talk. Still, he can see how this can be incredibly upsetting for his Alpha flatmates, who are already being affected by the pregnancy hormones and getting all protective of the unbonded Omega. It’s simple biology, really, something deeply ingrained in their brains that make most Alphas go crazy when there’s an Omega in distress and even worse when it’s a pregnant Omega.

So Greg guesses he’s going to be the one dealing with the worst of John’s moods and that’s- well, fine, he supposes, although it’s going to be a bit problematic for his work’s schedule. Things are stressing enough without having to add him leaving without notice and while Sally and DI Gregson might be willing to cover for him, in the long run-

He knows the Chief isn’t particularly keen on having an Omega Sergeant. An Omega Sergeant that disappears every now and then to check on one of his friends- well, that’s not going to end nicely.

Can he get away with asking for Mycroft’s help? Probably. The older male does God-knows-what, but he always, always manages to get Greg off the hook when things go badly. Not that Greg is completely comfortable with that, not liking to depend on anyone, but-

And speaking of Mycroft… what is the great git doing right now? Knowing him, he knows anything that needs to be known about John’s pregnancy, including facts that John himself probably hasn’t found out. Shouldn’t he talk some sense into Sherlock or something? Of course Greg knows that the younger Holmes can be pretty stubborn, but this-

Unless of course, Mycroft doesn’t see anything wrong with what his brother is doing. Greg’s stomach turns unpleasantly at the thought and he frowns. He knows he has a bit of a crush on the Alpha, but that’s never going to go anywhere, so he shouldn’t mind whatever Mycroft might think of the situation. Nothing beyond the whole being-pissed-on-my-friend’s-behalf, that is. Still-

John is staring at him expectantly and he realizes he’s supposed to say something. Oh god, he got lost in his thoughts, didn’t he? Oh, John is going to be mad- “Eh… he’s definitely being a jerk, John,” he offers, because it seems like the standard thing to say in this situation. John nods, so Greg guesses it was the right thing to say too. “But you need to relax. You know all this stress isn’t good for the baby-”

“And that’s why I told him I can't do this right now!” John interrupts, standing up abruptly. “The chances of miscarriage are high enough as it is, adding more stress- But I, I was-” he sighs, looking tired and defeated and Greg aches for him. “I was hoping getting a bit more of a reaction from him, you know?”

Greg nods, a sad smile on his lips. “I know. It’s- it’s not easy.”

John sighs, collapsing back on the couch next to him. “I’m just so tired…” he trails off, closing his eyes and resting his head against Greg’s shoulder. Greg sighs too, patting his hand awkwardly.

There’s really nothing he can do or say to make things better.

But he wishes there was.

“Give me my phone.”

“Nop.” Kate moves away, managing to avoid Irene’s grabby hands. The female pouts and Kate ignores her, her eyes fixed on the book she’s reading (or pretending to read, Irene doesn’t think she’s really paying attention to it)

“Kate, darling-” she purrs seductively and the other female arches an eyebrow, mostly amused. Irene crawls on bed closer to her and she moves away once more, sliding off the bed this time. “Kaaaate!!!”

“No,” her girlfriend tells her firmly once more. “You’re not calling John Watson.”

“But Kate-”

“This is between Sherlock and John,” Kate says, finally putting her book down. “You shouldn’t get involved.”

“But-”

“I get that Sherlock is your friend and you’re concerned.” Irene makes a face, not really liking to name her relationship with Sherlock, since it’s a bit complicated, but Kate carries on, undeterred, “I also get that you’re upset at John’s behaviour. But really, it’s none of your business.”

“How is it not my business?” Irene protests, sitting up and crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with the fall out, aren’t I?”

Kate rolls her eyes. “You’re always so dramatic-” Irene opens her mouth to protest and Kate silences her with a glare. “Listen, John is having a hard enough time without you bothering him. Being pregnant while unbonded… not to mention he wasn’t actually planning it… it must be terribly stressful.”

“He got himself into that mess, didn’t he?” Irene protests, pouting slightly and immediately realizes it was the wrong thing to say, judging by the way Kate’s eyes harden. She gulps, but refuses to apologise.

“Of course he did,” Kate states sarcastically, glaring at her. “That’s what silly Omegas get, for being so damn slutty and sleeping around, don’t they?”

“That’s not- I didn’t mean it like that!” Irene exclaims, knowing that’s quite a sensible topic with her girlfriend. “Come on, Kate, you know I didn’t mean it like that!” Kate makes a show of rolling her eyes and Irene hurries to her side, carefully wrapping her arms around her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t think before speaking.” Kate huffs and Irene continues, her tone sad. “I just- I’m angry, you know?”

“Doesn’t really justify it,” Kate argues calmly, but doesn’t try to pull away and so Irene is willing to count it as a win. “My point stands, though. Let them be. John doesn’t need you to make him feel worse than he probably already feels.”

“But-”

“Irene, the poor man is dealing with enough stuff. I get that you think that what he’s doing to Sherlock is unfair, but sometimes- sometimes you need to put yourself first. And dealing with Sherlock- you know how hard it can be. Can you blame him for wanting some peace and quiet?”

Irene makes a face, unconvinced. It seems terribly unfair really, but she supposes that’s up to Sherlock to decide. He knows John better in any case and well… she’ll admit that John can be as emotionally constipated as Sherlock himself, so yeah, probably now is not the best time for them to sort things out.

However-

“Alright,” she whispers, “I’ll let them be. For now.”

Kate shakes her head, now definitely amused. She knows how stubborn Irene can be.

Not use in denying it’s part of her charm, really.

Sarah isn’t quite prepared for how emotional John is being.

Mike and Bill warned her, of course, they actually strongly advised against coming to the apartment, but her schedule is crazy, so she has to use every tiny free moment she has for herself and she thought-

Well, never mind what she thought.

Her senses are assaulted by a very distressed pregnant Omega’s hormones and so her body reacts immediately. She hurries to his side, looking for signs of what could be wrong, her mind on overdrive. John seems a bit surprised by her strong reaction and she guesses that that’s partially result of her lingering feelings, but still-

“I’m fine,” John assures her, his tone calm and soothing, holding her hands and that’s when she realizes she was practically pawning him all over. John, however, looks mostly amused, if a bit concerned. “Physically fine, in any case.”

“Right.” She takes a couple of steps back, forcing herself to breath through her mouth. Her urge to gather John in her arms and never let him go is still strong, but she suspects such advance won’t be welcome and so she links her hands behind her back. “Sorry about that.”

John shrugs, going back to making tea. There’s a ridiculous amount of half prepared stuff on the table, so she guesses John’s mental state is as bad as Mike described on the phone. She really shouldn’t have come, this won’t be helpful to anyone at all.

“I know how it looks,” John says, stopping mid motion. “But I’m fine, really.”

Sarah nods, although she knows that’s far from the truth. “Right. I- I brought you some stuff.” She gestures towards the box she dropped by the entrance, in her urge to get to John’s side. “Clothes, mostly.”

John smiles sadly and nods. “Thank you, that’s- I really appreciate it.”

Sarah nods tightly once more, her own hormones playing dirty tricks on her. She needs to get out before she does anything foolish, but she can’t. Every nerve in her body is urging her to comfort her Omega, never mind that said Omega hasn’t been hers in months.

In fact, he was never hers at all, was he?

“I- I should go,” she tells him, forcing herself to continue stepping back. “I- I can’t- I can’t right now.”

John looks surprised and a tiny bit hurt, but understanding suddenly flashes in his eyes and so he nods eagerly. “Oh, of course. I’m- I’m really sorry, Sarah.”

She shakes her head, incapable of saying anything and hurries out of the flat, closing the door with a bang behind her. She leans against it for a while, trying to get herself back under control.

God, that was intense.

She’s upset, she won’t deny that. She had loved John very much and she had always thought they would end up raising a family together and so to see him like this- particularly since his baby’s father is being such a jerk-

It makes her very angry.

But this was John’s choice and so she has no right to say anything. He had called things off months ago and to be honest, it really wasn’t working between them anymore, but-

She aches for him. He deserves so much better.

But that’s not her call at all, is it?

“I understand you’re concerned and while I do appreciate it, kindly keep your nose out of my business, brother mine.”

Mycroft takes a deep breath, willing himself not to snap at his brother. He’s concerned and so he needs to talk to Sherlock, even if he knows this conversation will be nothing short from awful and painful for both of them.

“I-”

“No,” Sherlock interrupts smoothly. “I don’t need, nor do I want your input. I’m fine , Mycroft.”

“No, you aren’t,” the older male protests. “Please, Sherlock, let me help.”

“And how, exactly, do you plan to do that, huh?” Sherlock challenges darkly. “I’m perfectly fine, brother dear, so kindly piss off. ”

With that, the call gets disconnected. Mycroft closes his eyes, leaning against his seat, tired beyond words. It seems he’ll have to do it the hard way, won’t he? “Anthea.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Upgrade the surveillance level on my brother. I want to know everything- and I mean everything- he does or say, everywhere he goes, everyone he talks to, I want to know.” Anthea nods swiftly, not raising her eyes from her phone, where she’s undoubtedly typing orders to anyone involved on this particular task. He really dislikes to do this, but-

He has no other choice.

He needs to protect his brother.

Chapter Text

Of course Sherlock isn’t about to do something foolish.

Irene and Mycroft can worry as much as they want; it’s just further proof that they don’t know him at all. If they did, they would know by now that there’s just one single thing that will stop him from doing something and that’s John Watson’s disapproval.

Things are shaky enough as they are, if he was to do something foolish or reckless, he has little doubt that John would push him out of his life once and for all. He wouldn’t blame him, really, he needs to think of what’s best for him and his baby.

Oh god. The baby.

His heart constricts painfully and he forces himself to start thinking of something else. He wishes his classes were more challenging, that way he would be sufficiently distracted from his dark musings. Nothing for it, though.

He thinks he’ll just stay here, locked inside his room, never again leaving it. The chances of him doing something that would upset John if he stays right here are extremely low, so he feels that’s the right way to go.

It’ll be boring for sure, but better safe than sorry.

John’s friendship is worth every sacrifice.

Considering the circumstances, keeping an eye on Sherlock is vital, but Mycroft feels there’s something else he should be doing; namely making sure that John Watson is doing as well as he can, given his own particular circumstances.

It’s not that Mycroft dislikes John. He never has, not really, no matter what the younger male might think. He acted cold and detached around him, but that’s Mycroft’s modus operandi and it says nothing at all about his own feelings for his brother’s best friend. Now, that doesn’t mean he’s actually fond of John but well… he considers him something close to family.

And one thing Mummy always told him was that one takes care of family.

So of course he feels obligated to look after him while Sherlock is having his emotional breakdown. He’s not entirely sure of how, as he’s fairly certain John won’t take anything kindly coming from him, but he’ll have to try, won’t he?

He doesn’t find the prospect exciting at all, but he’ll have to manage. He has to admit he’s a little upset on Sherlock’s behalf, but he can’t exactly blame John for what happened; one can’t help the way one feels and he did warn Sherlock more than once not to get too involved, since it was obvious it would end in nothing but tragedy.

Nothing for it now. What matters right now-

Well, he guesses it’s time to pay John a little visit.

Greg tells his heart to stop making somersaults at the sight of a black sedan parking in front of the Yard, but it’s useless: his heart continues with its ridiculous acrobatics as he makes his way towards the car, all the while telling himself that he can handle this and behave like an adult and not like a swooning adolescent.

His conviction fails him at the sight of Mycroft Holmes of course.

He offers the Alpha his best polite smile as he takes a seat in front of him, his whole body tensing at their proximity. The older male always has that effect on him, but he refuses to acknowledge it, knowing it would be unwise to try to pursue anything: it just won’t end well for him.

And in any case, this isn’t about him or them at all; just like with every previous reunion, Greg is certain that Mycroft is after information rewarding Sherlock or John and so he resigns himself to the interrogatory that is to come.

“Coffee?” Mycroft offers as the car starts moving and Greg takes the cup carefully, a tad wary of the offering. His interactions with Mycroft are always to the point; the Alpha not being one to bother with mindless chatter. Still, it’s entirely likely the older man thinks he’s going to need to sweet talk him a little if he’s hoping to get something out of him.

Now, that’s an interesting scenario. There are quite a few things Greg could be persuaded to-

Oh god, what is he thinking? Now is most definitely not the time for this! “Your brother is being an ass,” Greg decides to point out, before his thoughts run away from him and he loses sight of what this meeting is really about.

“I’m sure you can understand his reticence at being involved in John’s… situation.”

Greg arches an eyebrow, unsure of what he can answer to that. He understands that Sherlock maybe wasn’t ready for parenthood, but still… what he’s doing to John is not right at all. “I really don’t see it like that.”

Mycroft pursues his lips, but doesn’t comment. For a while, they travel in silence and Greg wonders what he got himself into. When the silence becomes too much for him to bear, he decides to break it, “I think you should convince him to talk to John, anyway.”

The other male hums thoughtfully. “John specifically asked not to contact him until the baby is born.”

Greg doesn’t want to know how Mycroft found out about that, because considering the brothers’ relationship, Sherlock sure as hell didn’t tell him, so he doesn’t ask and instead settles for an unbelieving snort. “He’s pregnant, hormonal and emotional; you shouldn’t put much weight on anything he does or says.”

Mycroft frowns, considering his words. “I’m sure my brother would prefer to respect his wishes.”

“Yeah, I really think he shouldn’t. Not on this. Considering- he really should try to reach out sooner. John is- he’s going to need him to get through this, whether he likes it or not.”

Again, his companion hums. “I’ll make sure to deliver your message.” Greg rolls his eyes and looks outside the window, a tad frustrated. This conversation is just not going anywhere. “In any case, that’s not the matter I wanted to consult with you.”

“Oh?” he asks, vaguely interested and Mycroft offers him a small enigmatic smile.

“My brother- he’s not at his best right now. And so I- I consider it’s my obligation to step in for him and offer John Watson the support my brother is denying him right now.”

“Oh?” Greg says again, feeling a bit stupid, but leaning closer, now definitely interested. That sounds- promising, to say at least.

“We’re not really good at this whole emotional business,” Mycroft informs him and Greg can’t help to smirk a bit. “But I’m certain my brother would want John to be comfortable. Going back to our hometown would drove John mad, especially with how overbearing his family is bound to become once they have a little one to look after and so I think it would be for the best if he stayed in London.”

Greg nods, agreeing with everything the other has said so far. “Agreed. Keep talking.”

And so Mycroft proceeds to explain him what he has in mind.

All in all, Greg believes it’s fair. It’s not what John would want, not exactly but well-

It’s better than nothing, he thinks.

John isn’t nervous per se, because this is just a routine sonogram and he’s fairly certain nothing is wrong, but he can’t help feeling like there’s something… wrong. As he sits alone at the examining room, waiting for the ultrasound technician, he can’t help thinking that Sherlock ought to be here with him; this is, after all, the first time he’ll be seeing their baby.

He rubs his belly absentmindedly, another wave of sadness threatening to overwhelm him. Now is not the time for him to break down again, but the onslaught of hormones have him feeling vulnerable and just a tiny bit pathetic and he just wishes-

God, what he would give for Sherlock to be here.

He thinks he did the right thing, though. If Sherlock wants nothing do with their child, the best John can do is take a step back. He doesn’t think their friendship can really survive this, but he guesses he can give it a shot once he’s a little more calm. Right now however, it just hurts too much.

The door opens and Sarah steps in. John frowns, confused and the female offers him a sheepish smile. “I thought- I thought you could use a familiar face right now,” she tells him, biting her lip nervously. John is half tempted to chase her out, but the truth is that he doesn’t want to be alone and while he almost called Greg to accompany him (Mike and Bill had classes), he felt bad for pulling his friend out of his work ( again ). Sarah however, is already here, so…

He nods tightly and Sarah sits next to him. She squeezes his hand once in silent support and John manages a shaky smile. He’s still a bit nervous, but also a bit excited and now that he’s no longer alone-

It’ll be fine.

It’s not perfect, but it’ll be fine.

Mycroft is very careful to keep his face perfectly blank while he and Gregory wait outside the hospital. The Omega is drinking his coffee in silence, staring outside the window with an absent minded expression, providing Mycroft with a perfect view of his profile. He knows he ought to look away before he does something stupid and betrays himself but, as usual, he’s finding hard to listen to his brain while in the other male’s presence.

He has always been very proud of his excellent control over his tiresome hormones. He’s not blind and his nose is perfectly functional, but he can ignore an attractive Omega, even if they smell deliciously, with very little effort.

Except when that Omega happens to be Gregory Lestrade.

He knows that the reason he went to pick Gregory before attempting to talk to John was more for his own benefit than John’s. While his brother’s friend is usually wary of his presence, he knows he could have persuaded him of listening to what he had to say. The Sergeant’s presence then is completely pointless except-

Well. He'd rather not think about it.

The other male seems to feel his piercing gaze and turns to him, a slight frown on his face. Mycroft hurries to pretend he’s not staring and his companion seems to buy it, for he goes back to looking out the window. The Alpha holds back a sigh and leans back on his seat, internally sulking, but making sure it doesn’t show on his outside.

God, he’s truly pathetic, isn’t he?

He has considered making an advance more than once, but while he does believe the Omega returns his interest, he’s not quite sure how to go about it. Sentiment is not something he excels at and so he’s not comfortable trying. Besides, caring is not advantage , just as his brother has managed to prove with his little… whatever with John.

So he settles for these little reunions, these occasional “meetings” where they discuss their mutual acquaintances and nothing else. He thinks he has managed to conceal his feelings very nicely, but sometimes he worries he’s too transparent.

Not that it matters, since he has completely convinced himself that he’s not going to make a move, but-

“Here he comes,” Gregory announces suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Mycroft looks  outside the window just in time to see John come out of the hospital, closely followed by Dr. Sawyer. The female has an arm loosely wrapped around John’s waist and both look quite happy. Mycroft can’t help frowning a bit at that: while he knew John didn’t return his brother’s feelings, he had never actually believed he would settle down with Dr. Sarah Sawyer. The woman is… well, nice, he guesses, but she doesn’t seem right for John.

Then again, he might be a little biased.

John is holding something close to his chest and Mycroft imagines that it’s a picture of the sonogram he has just gotten. He supposes he can get a copy for his brother; regardless of the child’s parentage, he’s still half John’s and so-

Terribly sentimental, he thinks, but understandable.

John has noticed the car by now and is staring at it with open displeasure. Mycroft sighs, wondering how long this whole business will take and that’s when Gregory opens the door, exiting the car and waving John over. The blond seems to relax a bit at this and he turns to say goodbye to his companion, who leans for a quick peck on the cheek. John then hurries towards them and greets Gregory happily, before sliding into the car and scowling at Mycroft.

Well. Some things never change, do they?

John isn’t really looking forward talking to Mycroft, but he figures he has no other choice. Seeing Greg has come along helps him relax; some support never goes amiss when dealing with the older Holmes.

“Mycroft.”

“Hello, John,” the older male greets him politely, that unnerving smile of his firmly in place. John scowls darkly, but the other man seems perfectly unperturbed.

“What do you want?” he decides to ask after a beat, when it becomes evident Mycroft isn’t about to just tell him. The car starts moving then and he frowns, a bit worried. Greg squeezes his arm briefly and he reminds himself he’s not alone in this.

“I’m merely acting on my brother’s best interests.”

At the mention of Sherlock, John tenses immediately. “I told him-”

“I know,” Mycroft interrupts smoothly and John glares; it figures the older Holmes has been spying on their conversations. “Still, I felt this was- needed. If my brother had his wits about him, he would have came up with the idea first, but considering… well.” He gestures vaguely and John narrows his eyes. “This is for you.”

He offers John a slip of paper and the younger male takes it warily, his eyes never leaving Mycroft. When he looks down at the piece of paper, his eyes go wide as saucers. “I- what- I can’t accept this!”

Mycroft looks perfectly unperturbed. “It’s just a small sum-”

“For what?” John demands, now angry beyond measure. What are the Holmes brothers playing at? Do they think they can simply- what? Offer him some money so he won’t-

What the hell is going on?

“As I said, I believe that if my brother was thinking a bit more clearly, he would like for you and your baby to be- comfortable. In matters of emotional support Sherlock is basically useless.” John snorts at that and Mycroft scrunches his nose, but carries on, “so this will have to do.”

There are a million things that John could answer to that, but he forces himself to reign the worst of his temper in. He’s angry, certainly, but he has to admit that the money is very much needed and-

Next to him, Greg is glaring at Mycroft and they seem to be having an entirely silent conversation, so John decides to leave them to it and instead focus on what he ought to do. If Sherlock is really not going to step up to help him with this- maybe he ought to swallow his pride and accept the check. He doesn’t like it and it feels so wrong , but it all comes down to what’s best for his child and so-

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He’s so angry at Sherlock for putting him in this situation in the first place, but there’s really nothing for it. Things are what they are and wishing for them to be different isn’t going to change a damn thing.

“Ah, here we are,” Mycroft states and John notices the car has stopped. The Alpha steps out of the car and after exchanging a wary glance with Greg, John follows. They’re outside a small cafe and John frowns, but Mycroft ignores him and goes to knock on the door next to the establishment. After a few seconds, the door opens and a woman appears at the threshold.

She greets Mycroft warmly, making John and Greg exchange a puzzled look and then she turns to John, offering him a bright smile. “- and you must be John. A pleasure to finally meet you, Sherlock never shuts up about you and I-”

Mycroft clears his throat as John’s heart constricts at the mention of his supposed best friend. He smiles at the woman tightly and she looks pained and embarrassed, but she recovers quickly and smiles once more at him, “well, come on in. Let me show you the flat.”

Before John can protest, the female has disappeared inside the building and so he has no choice but to follow. He can hear Greg and Mycroft discussing something softly outside, but he decides not to focus on that.

The woman has carried on chatting about one thing or another, but John’s focus has completely gone to the flat. The place isn’t exactly big, but it’s well distributed and well illuminated. There are some pieces of furniture here and there and all in all, the place looks ready to live in. “So, what do you think?” the woman asks, turning to him expectantly.

“What do I-? what-? I- I’m not sure-”

She smiles fondly at him. “The flat is yours,” a voice claims from behind him and he turns to find Mycroft climbing the stairs. “Mrs. Hudson is… an old family friend and she had a vacancy, so-”

“What-? No, no. This is too much.” John feels a tad overwhelmed, not sure of what to think of all of this. It seems- it doesn’t make sense-

“As I said,” Mycroft says very slowly, as if John is the one who’s being deliberately dense, “my brother would want you and your baby to be comfortable.”

“There’s another room upstairs,” Mrs. Hudson points out cheerfully. “It could work wonderfully as a nursery; it’s very cosy. Of course you might want to keep the baby close to you at first, but- oh darling, are you alright?”

To his great horror, John realizes he’s crying again. Mycroft looks in the verge of panicking, obviously not used to such displays of emotion, but Mrs. Hudson is already taking care of him, wrapping her arms around him and rubbing circles on his back while whispering nonsense against his hair.

God, he’s such a mess.

It’s just- he really wasn’t expecting any of this and now- Mycroft keeps repeating that this is what Sherlock would want, but John can’t help thinking that he would trade it all for Sherlock’s presence. Everything else- everything else, nice as it might be, is completely superficial. Nothing- absolutely nothing- can make up for the father of his child’s absence and yet-

He’ll have to make do, won’t he?

For the few past weeks, Sherlock has barricaded himself inside his bedroom, ignoring Irene’s increasingly frustrated demands for him to ‘stop sulking and behave like an adult’. Likewise, he has been ignoring all of Mycroft’s calls and erasing his texts without bothering to read them. Today, however, he hesitates, his finger hovering over the ‘erase’ option. This text is different, for it has an attached image and, despite himself, Sherlock is terribly curious.

With a sigh, he opens the attachment, ignoring his brother’s demands to know about his well being. What he sees once the picture loads, makes his heart skip a beat.

The image is far from clear and he does believe one needs a lot of imagination to point out anything, since all he sees are small points and lines, but he does know what it is: John’s first sonogram.

He’s not sure what exactly Mycroft is hoping to accomplish by sending him this, but it certainly provokes a reaction out of him. He runs his fingers over the image, a sad soft smile on his lips. The child might not be his, but he’s still John’s and Sherlock will love him for that. Because regardless of what might happen now, Sherlock can’t afford to lose the man he loves more than anything and so-

He refuses to miss this. He wishes he could share John’s joy, he wishes this meant something to them. But it means something to John and that’s more than enough: he can live with his longing and his unrequited love, he can’t live without John’s friendship and love, even if it’s not the kind of love Sherlock would want.

Another message arrives, also from his brother. Sherlock opens it without thinking and smiles a bit at it.

Gregory thinks you should talk to him regardless of what he said. Apparently, hormones are to blame for John’s request.

Well then, if that’s the case-

He stands up and starts picking some clothes to change into, along with some fresh ones to pack, his heart feeling lighter despite the lingering sadness. He knows what he has to do now.

It’s time to pay John another visit.

Chapter Text

As he waits for his train, Sherlock can’t help pacing all around the platform, far too nervous to sit down and wait calmly, much to his companions’ chargain. He can tell his pacing is rattling on Irene’s already rattled nerves and the female is just a few seconds away from snapping at him, but he can’t stop.

In any case, it’s not like he asked for the woman’s companionship. In fact, he had actually refused it and attempted to slide away while she was busy throwing a fit, but his plan hadn’t quite worked out and so here they are an hour later, waiting for Sherlock’s train to arrive.

Irene is biting her lip harshly, no doubt in a desperate attempt of not saying what she wants to say. Kate’s hand is resting on her thigh, squeezing it softly every time Irene opens her mouth. Sherlock smiles a bit at the picture, thinking once more how much of a blessing Kate is: if it wasn’t for her he’s certain he and Irene wouldn’t be in such good terms.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Irene asks as his train approaches, incapable of holding herself back anymore. “You know it won’t end well.”

Sherlock bites his lip, forcing himself not to panic. It’s entirely likely that Irene is right and John ends up kicking him out of his flat and telling him that he doesn’t want to see him ever again, but-

He needs to try.

“Yes,” he states simply, squaring his shoulders, pulling his coat tighter around himself. “I must.”

Irene sighs and stands up to come closer to him. They stare at each other for a beat and finally the female nods tightly, squeezing his shoulder once briefly. “Good luck, then.”

Sherlock nods and makes his way towards the train’s opening doors, his heart beating furiously inside his chest. He’s nervous and a tad scared, but he needs to do this. If he wants his friendship with John to survive, he must be able to push aside his hurt and longing, ask for forgiveness and move forward.

Well then. Here goes nothing.

John is probably enjoying this way too much.

But then again, he’s pregnant and basically abandoned, so he’s allowed to get his kicks from wherever (or whoever) he sees fit, isn’t he?

And it’s not like he’s doing it on purpose, really. It’s partially Mycroft’s fault too: his scent is similar enough to his brother’s to get John to feel all antsy and considering the older Holmes is an Alpha, his scent is far stronger than Sherlock’s, so John’s hormones go a bit on overdrive whenever the older male visits, making him prone to emotional displays that include crying more often than not.

Mycroft is, most decidedly, terribly unsettled. Which is quite an odd look on him and John shouldn’t find it as amusing as he does, but well…

It can’t be helped, really.

Regardless of his obvious discomfort, Mycroft keeps visiting and John must admit he’s a little… moved by the gesture. He and the older Holmes never really got along too well, Mycroft always thinking him far too overindulgent of Sherlock’s oddities. John was always ready to follow his friend into whatever crazy adventure he came up with and Mycroft was always left with the task of cleaning after their mess, which was, more often than not, pretty huge.

He knows that’s what Mycroft is doing right now, really: cleaning after Sherlock mess. Only John is part of the ‘mess’ now and the thought hurts much more than he’s willing to admit. Sometimes he resents Mycroft’s presence and sometimes-

Well. He’s thankful, to a point.

“Dr. Sawyer is off the hospital,” Mycroft informs him suddenly, not looking up from his phone, his usual mask of disinterest back in place since John has finally stopped his emotional display. “She should be here shortly.”

“Why should she?” John asks, honestly pluzzed. Sometimes Mycroft makes the oddest remarks, but he’s usually gone before John can actually ask. Not this time, though.

“Isn’t she staying with you?”

John almost chokes with his own saliva. Why would Sarah-? What the heck is Mycroft implying? “What?! No! Of course not, why would she?” he splutters out indignantly and the older male frowns.

“Isn’t she-?” he pauses, thinking about something, looking like he’s having some sort of epiphany. “Oh. John, I- listen, about your child’s other parent-” John stares, pluzzed at the wording, but before Mycroft can finish his sentence, his phone rings and he promptly interrupts himself, picking up the call immediately. By the way his lips tighten, John knows that the Alpha is about to leave in a rush and he won’t get any questions answered tonight.

“I’m afraid I must take my leave,” Mycroft informs him smoothly, standing up and John narrows his eyes at him briefly, annoyed to be left alone with his confusion, but he nods, knowing better than to argue with the Alpha. Mycroft stares at him speculatively for a beat, opens his mouth to say something and then seems to think better of it. He offers John one last tight smile before exiting the flat, leaving the Omega on his own.

John stays where he is, staring at the ceiling with a puzzled expression. It’s a very odd phrasing, really. Surely Mycroft is aware that his brother is the father of his child? He wouldn’t have done all this is he wasn’t, would he? It wouldn’t make sense…

And yet, he can’t help to wonder.

Once the little situation is under control, Mycroft finds himself thinking back to his conversation with John. He has spent a ridiculous amount of time visiting the younger male, but he does feel like he needed to- it’s obvious the man is suffering a lot of distress and if Sherlock was here, he wouldn’t want John to be on his own for long periods of time. So Mycroft forced himself to endure, even if he finds the whole thing nothing short from awkwardly painful.

He ponders over the revelation of the night once more, turning the idea inside his head, trying to figure out how he missed the possibility all along. Then again, he would have never believed his brother foolish enough to sleep with John, especially knowing his feelings weren’t reciprocated, but then-

Of course now it seems said feelings aren’t as unreciprocated as he previously believed. Another miscalculation on his account, but then, he has never claimed to be an expert on sentiment. He doesn’t tend to miss things, but he supposes sometimes- well, everyone makes mistakes, don’t they?

But if that’s really the case, if Sherlock is truly the father of John’s child, his little brother is in quite a mess. That he wasn’t being an supportive friend was bad enough and his friendship with John would need a lot of work to recover from than, but if-

Maybe it won’t be so bad. Once they clear things up… it’s entirely likely John will forgive him right away. And if that happens to be the case-

Well, he guesses they’ll be making a happy announcement very soon.

But for that to happen, he needs to get his brother to London right now. He pulls out his phone to call Anthea and make sure his brother is delivered to Baker Street as soon as possible, when he notices he already has a voicemail from his assistant. Apparently, his baby brother decided to come to London all on his own.

Oh well. All for the best.

Sherlock glares at his brother’s minion, irritated by his interference. Mycroft really needs to learn to respect his privacy and his decisions, but he’s certainly in no mood to fight his older brother so, for now, he supposes he’ll let it go. Depending on how things go with John tonight, he might end up visiting his brother to blow off a bit of steam, so he’ll save his anger for later.

Anthea remains perfectly unmoved by his dark glare, her eyes fixed on her Blackberry. Sherlock sighs, turning his attention to the city passing outside his window. It takes him embarrassingly long, but he finally notices they’re not heading towards John’s flat. “Where are we going?” he demands angrily, narrowing his eyes at the female. “I want to see John.”

“Baker Street,” the woman replies simply, not bothering to even look at him. Sherlock’s heart skips a beat, his stomach clenching unpleasantly.

After finishing high school, he had briefly entertained the idea of following John to London and sharing a flat with him. He hadn’t had much interest on continuing his own education, but Mummy had been livid when he had brought the idea up. In the end, they had compromised: if Sherlock went to Cambridge and graduated, Mummy would pay for his and John’s apartment in central London once they were both done with school.

He, of course, had never told John such thing. However he had done his research on where will they would be living and one of Mrs. Hudson’s flats had seemed like the perfect place. It had been a bit of a fanciful thought, since it was entirely likely John wouldn’t want to share a flat once he was done with school, but Sherlock had indulged himself with imaginations of their life together, even if it wasn’t in the capacity he wanted them to be.

And to think of John in Baker Street, building his life with someone else-

“Your brother thought you would want Mr. Watson to be as comfortable as possible,” Anthea tells him, pulling him out of his dark reverie. She’s staring at him now, frowning slightly, looking a tad concerned. Sherlock closes his eyes, willing himself to breath evenly.

“Of course,” he replies as calmly as he can. “Of course.”

The woman hesitates, evidently wanting to say something, but seems to think better of it and turns her attention back to her phone. Sherlock bites his lip and stares outside the window once more.

How did his life come to this?

Besides the privileged location of the flat, as well as its size and distribution, another advantage of it is the frankly amazing tub in the bathroom. Before he moved in, John had never really enjoyed the luxury of just lying on the tub and relaxing, but now it’s a pleasure he indulges in every night. He finds the ritual quite soothing and exactly what his more often than not frayed nerves need.

He runs a hand over his still smooth belly, wondering when he’ll start showing. He’s almost 4 months along and he should be able to feel the baby move by now, but he hasn’t just yet. Then again, he’s mostly distracted during the day, either by his final exams or his bone deep misery. He feels a tad frustrated by how affected he still is by Sherlock’s absence; it hasn’t been that long since he saw his friend in any case. And sure, things had gone rather badly that time and their phone conversation hadn’t gone that well either but-

Things could be far worse, really, so he has no right at all to feel like this. He should be thankful for the support he has and he should be able to simply ignore the constant ache in his chest, but-

He just can’t.

Busy as he is, lying on the bath and contemplating his life choices, he fails to hear the front door opening or the approaching steps. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and throws his head back, letting the water cover him completely. He stays down for a couple of seconds, comforted by the still water surrounding him, before he’s unceremoniously yanked up, startling him and making him get on defensive mode out of instinct, attempting to fight his attacker off.

He manages to land a punch on his attacker, sending him to the floor. For a second, John remains where he is, breathing hard and trying to make sense of his scattered thoughts, his heart beating furiously. He stares at his attacker without seeing, a part of his mind urging him to do something, but he remains frozen still.

His mysterious attacker stands up then, starling John out of his stupor. He readies himself for another attack and that’s when he notices the person standing in his bathroom is- “Sherlock?!”

“Hello, John,” his friend greets calmly, pressing his fingers across his jaw, assessing the damage caused by the shorter male’s punch. “You still have a mean left hook.”

John opens his mouth to demand an explanation and promptly closes it again. Now that his adrenaline has dropped at the lack of imminent danger, he’s starting to feel self conscious and that’s when he notices he’s standing naked in the middle of the tub. Sherlock is standing very still, staring directly at some point above John’s head and the blond can’t help to flush.

God, this is ridiculous. It’s not like this is the first time Sherlock has seen him naked, but-

He grabs a towel from the rack and hurries to tie it around his waist. He can see his friend gulping, his eyes still firmly fixed on some point on the wall, studiously avoiding John’s. For a second he feels like yelling, but the urge promptly leaves him.

It’s no use, really. “What are you doing here?” he asks instead, trying to gather his dignity as much as he can. He feels… raw, exposed. There’s something very vulnerable about the position they’re currently in and John doesn’t like it, not one bit. “I told you I didn’t want to talk to you-”

“I know,” Sherlock interrupts him, finally looking at him in the eye and what John sees there- it’s such a perfect reflection of what he’s feeling, but it makes no sense, absolutely no sense- “I had to see you.”

John snorts, frustrated. It’s always about what Sherlock wants, what Sherlock needs. He always comes first and- “Your way. Always you way,” he accuses darkly and his friend flinches, but John refuses to feel bad about his rightful anger. He runs a hand through his wet hair and sighs, the fight leaving him once more. It’s really no use, he knows he’s going to give in.

He always does.

“Just let me get dressed,” he asks softly and Sherlock nods, uncertain. John gestures for him to step out and Sherlock hurries to obey, a blush spreading across his cheeks,

Once alone, John takes a deep breath and lets his head rest against the cold tiles of the shower. He’s so very tired and he just wishes- well, he doesn’t know what he wishes for anymore.

Since Sherlock is already here, they may as well talk. He doesn’t dare to hope that his friend’s visit means anything in the great scheme of things, but a part of him- a desperate, foolish part of him-

Well. Better not to get ahead of himself. He grabs his pajama pants and slips into them, pulling an old t-shirt over his head. He stares at his reflection on the mirror for a beat and promptly looks away. There are dark bags beneath his eyes, his skin is starting to get oily and all in all, he feels like he looks awful. Not exactly how he had been expecting to be looking like the next time he talked to Sherlock but well… it’ll have to do.

He realizes he’s stalling and he forces himself to step out of the bathroom. He’s half tempted to slip through the door that leads to the bedroom and lock himself in there, but figures there’s really no point to it. He needs to get this conversation done and the sooner, the better.

Sherlock is sitting at the living room, curled into himself. He looks up when John enters, but doesn’t change his position, if anything, he seems to hug his knees tighter. John frowns a little, but doesn’t comment and instead takes a seat in front of his friend.

“So,” John says, when it becomes evident Sherlock isn’t about to speak first. However, he doesn’t know what to say so he falls silent shortly after. His friend stares at him, biting his lip nervously and he looks so lost and vulnerable that it takes every inch of his self control for John not to hurry to his side and gather him in his arms. They’ve never been very touchy-feely, but given the circumstances…

“I wanted to apologise,” Sherlock says after what feels like a lifetime, his eyes focused on some point over John’s head. “I- I realize I’ve been a terrible friend. I shouldn’t- my reaction might have been- I could have reacted better.”

John snorts, incapable of holding back a soft fond smile. “Indeed.”

“This- this whole situation has been very stressful for me. I know it doesn’t justify my behavior, but I couldn’t- I needed some time alone. It’s just- I guess I always expected it to happen, I just never thought it would be so soon…” John frowns, confused and tad angered, but Sherlock carries on before he can interrupt, “I don’t do well with feelings, John, you know that. And in this case- it was just too much.”

John nods, forcing himself to keep his calm. “It hasn’t been easy on me either, Sherlock. It’s not like I was planning this, you know?”

Sherlock huffs, a humorless smile on his lips. “Yes, I know. But then, you said you wanted the baby. I- As unplanned as the whole thing might be, I guess you’re happy with this turnout.”

John feels like he’s been punched and for a beat, he doesn’t know how to answer. The anger that has been building up inside him all this time is threatening to break lose and he knows that won’t end well. “I know you wouldn’t understand, but- yes, I’m somewhat happy with this turnout. I mean, I wish- I wish things were a bit different, but I can’t bring myself to regret this child, not when I love his father so much, even if he’s being an ass about it.”

It’s Sherlock’s turn to look as he’s been stricken and he stands up abruptly, starting to pace around the room, talking to himself. He looks desperate and hurt and John aches to do something, but he doesn’t understand why-

“Who?!” Sherlock finally demands, standing in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him lightly.

“Who, what?!” John demands just as angrily, pushing the other male away, at lost of what he’s talking about. Sherlock growls lowly and John retreats back instinctively, his protective instincts on overdrive. He places a hand over his stomach, carefully angling it away from his friend and the other male glares at him briefly, before huffing and turning away once more.

“I wasn’t aware you were seeing someone,” Sherlock murmurs finally, still not looking at him. “I assumed- I assumed you had gotten back together with Sarah because I didn’t think you would have slept with me if you were seriously seeing someone, but I guess-”

“What the heck are you talking about?!” John yells, his temper finally getting the best of him. “I don’t know what the fuck-”

“Your baby’s father! Who is it? I thought it was Sarah, but you said ‘he’ and now-”

“WHAT?!” John exclaims, suddenly feeling dizzy. As he tries to think back to his first conversation with Sherlock, he feels cold dread creeping over him, filling his veins. He collapses further onto his seat, feeling sick with fury and frustration. “You didn’t- you didn’t think it was yours?”

Sherlock turns to him then, narrowing his eyes. “The chances of a Beta male impregnating an Omega are-”

“.05%” John supplies darkly, “you doubted my word? You thought that I would- what? Saddle you up with a child that was someone else’s?” He feels more than a tad horrified at the idea; it seems like the bad plot of one of those soap operas Harry was so fond of when she was younger. That Sherlock would think him capable-

Sherlock’s eyes are very wide, a haunted look on his face. “You never- you never said-”

“So what? You thought I was sleeping around and then when I found out I was pregnant I would-”

“Of course not!” Sherlock snaps angrily, coming to kneel in front of his seat. “But we never- I know how you behave in this, John. I thought- we never discussed what we were and I- Of course I would have never thought you capable of-”

“What, exactly, are you saying then?” John asks, as calmly as he can, staring at his friend directly in the eye. Sherlock stares back, biting his lip nervously and then he sighs, closing his eyes briefly.

“After we- after we had sex, I assumed it wasn’t- it wasn’t a big deal. I thought that we were simply… fooling around or something. I know you like to make things clear with your partners and since you never- I thought it was a one time thing. And when you told me you were pregnant- I assumed it was someone else’s. You never- there was nothing that suggested-”

John is torn between feeling horrified and feeling insulted. He knows he should have discussed with Sherlock what their night together meant for their relationship, but he hadn’t imagined- “Why would I keep someone else’s baby, Sherlock? Why would I-?”

“That’s why I thought it was Sarah’s!” his friend hurries to interrupt. “I knew- I knew that unless you were emotionally involved with the other parent, you wouldn’t have kept it and so- she was the most logical option-”

John rubs his temples tiredly, unsure of what he’s feeling right now. A part of him is… frustrated, but for the most part, he feels hopeful and that- “I told you things weren’t working out with Sarah anymore.”

“Well, yes, but- for you to wish to keep the baby, the other parent must meant something to you and so-”

“It never occurred you that I would want to keep the baby because it was yours?”

“Why would I think that?” Sherlock asks, with a small self deprecating shrug. He looks sad and dejected and John aches to pull him close. “Why would you want to have a baby with me?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” John says sarcastically, glaring darkly. “Maybe because I’m madly in love with you? Or hadn’t you deduced that?”

His friend just stares at him, looking like he can’t believe what he has just said. John frowns, but before he can say anything, Sherlock interrupts him, “you’re in love with me?” he whispers, full of unbelieving wonder and John’s heart clenches painfully in his chest.

He sometimes forgets how... blind his friend is to emotions and how full of self-loathing he is. People tend to be cruel to him and more than once Sherlock has expressed his belief of being unlovable and has wondered out loud just how exactly John manages to put up with him but he hadn’t thought-

Oh god, what a mess.

“It really never occurred to you,” John whispers, placing his hand over his cheek. “You really didn’t think I could want a family with you?”

Sherlock makes a soft distressed sound in the back of his throat and tries to pull away, but John hurries to stop him by sliding his hand to the nape of his neck and holding him in place. “Oh, Sherlock, how could you be so blind?”

“John, you’ve never-”

“Well, no, but neither have you! How was I supposed to know-? When I kissed you, I- Well, I was hoping-”

“So was I,” Sherlock murmurs quietly, looking down, “that’s why I came to London that night. I was hoping- I was hoping it had meant something. But then you said you were pregnant and I assumed-”

John shakes his head, now most definitely horrified by his lack of tact. In all truthness, Sherlock shouldn’t have run out, but in retrospective, he can understand why he would do it. God, to think this whole mess could have be avoided-

Nothing for it now, though. What’s done is done.

“I do want to be with you,” he says softly, pulling Sherlock closer so their foreheads are pressed together. “I would very much like for us to be a family; you and I and our baby.”

His friend stares at him directly in the eye and John forces himself not to squirm under the close surveillance. Sherlock always stares a bit too intently and more often than not, people find it terribly unnerving, but John has never truly minded. His lack of tact sometimes is a bit frustrating, but for the most part, John finds Sherlock’s bluntness and ability to read everything about someone with just one look rather endearing.

“You’re the best man I know,” John adds, once it seems his companion isn’t really going to say something and so he feels some reassurance might be in order, particularly considering the source of this whole mess, “I know you were lonely before we became friends, but what you seem to forget is that so was I. I’ve never- You’re my best friend Sherlock.” He takes a deep breath and forces himself to carry on, because while he has sort of confessed it already, saying it again can’t possibly hurt. “And I love you. I’m in love with you. I-”

But John doesn’t get to finish his sentence, Sherlock pressing his lips against his in a desperate, hungry kiss. John kisses back with as much enthusiasm, pulling his friend closer, somehow managing them to fit on the small couch. The whole scene resembles quite a lot their first time together and John can’t help to smile. Hopefully this time there’ll be no more misunderstandings.

“John, can we-?” Sherlock says between kisses, looking somewhat reluctant to stop kissing, but wanting to say something. John hums, not particularly caring about anything but the wonderful feeling of having his beloved between his arms once more, his desire quickly growing, “John, please,” Sherlock interrupts once more, pulling away a bit, “bedroom.”

John laughs at that, nodding eagerly. Yes, they would probably be more comfortable in the bed; he remembers his aching muscles on the day following their night together. He manages to stand up, although his knees feel wobbly and he’s not certain he can walk for long, but- “Come on,” he urges, pulling his friend up and Sherlock follows willingly, a smile on his lips. “And just so we’re clear-” he adds, figuring he might as well make sure they’re on the same page this time, “this isn’t a one-time thing. I want forever.”

Sherlock kisses him again and they’re not going to make it to the bedroom if his companion carries on like that, but- “Forever,” the other male agrees, pulling him into a long sensual kiss and John beams brightly at him once they pull away for air.

Forever sounds truly delightful.

They kiss slowly, almost tentative, all the while walking back into John’s bedroom. Once there, with the door closed behind them, they stop for a beat, still in each other’s arms, bodies closely pressed together, eyes locked.

Sherlock moves first, but the difference is minimal. He takes John’s mouth in a long kiss, backing him towards the bed and John goes willingly, making soft pleased noises that are driving Sherlock absolutely mad with desire.

Still, he’s determined to make this last. Their first time was a rush, it was over before he could even begin to categorize each of John’s reactions. Back then he had been just too desperate to take whatever he had been offered, not really thinking there would be another chance (although certainly hoping for it). When John had told him he was pregnant he had became firmly convinced that there would be no second time and yet- here they are.

John is staring at him questioningly and Sherlock realizes he’s just hovering awkwardly over him. He smiles tentatively, before leaning down for another kiss. John makes a content sound in the back of his throat and Sherlock moves towards his neck, trailing kisses all the way down, stopping to lap a bit against John’s mating gland, which makes the Omega moan rather loudly.

He continues his way downwards, his hands already lifting his companion’s t-shirt. The skin is still slightly damp due John’s earlier shower and Sherlock spends a while licking and biting all over his soon to be lover’s chest. He can tell John is getting frustrated by the way his hips keep moving, but Sherlock won’t be rushed: he still can’t believe this is happening and just in case John changes his mind later-

The idea gives him pause and his hands grip John’s hips harshly. Of course John said it was forever, but well… Sherlock is all too aware of his shortcomings and so it’s entirely likely that he’ll do something that will make him change his mind and then- John makes a protesting sound, but Sherlock barely notices, lost in his own mind. That wouldn’t do, not at all. To have John just to lose him again-

“Sherlock?” John questions softly, placing a hand against his cheek that Sherlock hurries to nuzzle. “Is there something wrong? We don’t have to-”

Sherlock laughs self deprecatingly at that and John flinches a bit. He sits back on his heels and observes his friend for a while, neither daring to move an inch. Finally, John sighs and shakes his head. “Come here,” he whispers, gesturing for Sherlock to come closer and he obeys, biting his lip softly.

They lie in silence for a long while, no sound but their breathing filling the room. John runs a hand absent mindedly up and down Sherlock’s back and the Beta starts to relax, his eyelids suddenly feeling too heavy and sleep threatening to overtake him any minute now.

But that wouldn’t be right. He needs- there’s something he needs to say first. He needs John to understand- “You’re my best friend, John.” His companion hums in acknowledgment and so he carries on, before he loses his courage. “I never- Before we met, I never thought I would ever have a friend, let alone someone as good and perfect as yourself.” He can feel John starting to protest and he hurries to finish, “that you wanted to be my friend was miracle enough. I didn’t dare to ask for more, I didn’t think I was allowed to even think about it. But I did, John, I hoped- I hoped that one day I would be worthy of your love.”

“Sherlock-”

“I still don’t think I’m worthy, but I’m afraid I’m selfish enough not to care if you could do better, if you deserve better. If you want me-”

“Of course I-”

“But the idea of you changing your mind- of one day waking up and realize-”

John silences him with a bruising kiss, coming to straddle his hips. “Don’t be an idiot,” he whispers against his lips, their foreheads pressed together. “You’re supposed to be the genius, remember?”

Sherlock chuckles humorlessly, his hands coming to grip his companion’s hips. “I really don’t deserve you, John. What happened before- this whole misunderstanding- isn’t that proof enough-?”

John rolls his eyes good naturedly, a soft sad smile on his lips. “That proves we really need to work on our communication skills,” he informs him very seriously, leaning down for quick kiss, “nothing more.”

Sherlock ponders that for a bit, wondering what he ought to do now. Of course he wants to be with John and if he wants it too-

He reverses their positions with ease, earning himself an startled gasp from the Omega. He smiles cheekily at his friend and John rolls his eyes once more, feigning annoyance, but the fond smile on his lips gives him away. Sherlock leans down to kiss him once more, this time long and hard and John sighs against his lips once they finally pull away for air.

From there, he returns to his previous endeavor of cataloging every inch of John’s skin, along with his reactions to being kissed, bitten and licked. His friend makes the most delightful sounds and Sherlock prides himself on always being quite through with his investigations, so he doesn’t stop until John is shaking with desire, panting and breathless, staring at him as if he was the most marvelous thing on earth.

The thought warms him deeply and he guesses his pleased smile is a perfect reflect of John’s, although the other male is evidently eager for him to get on with it and so Sherlock complies, careful not to put much pressure over John’s stomach and refusing to move too quickly or roughly, not minding John’s pleads. He keeps a steady rhythm, John’s hips raising up to meet him in a desperate attempt to urge him on which just makes him want to slow down and drag this on as long as possible.

John lets out a protesting noise and he chuckles, leaning down for a kiss. His lover kisses him back eagerly, the heels of his feet now digging on his back and so Sherlock finally speeds up his pace, still careful not to manhandle his friend much, despite his own growing need.

His orgasm takes him by surprise and he bites down John’s neck rather harshly. His friend however, doesn’t seem to mind at all, hugging him close as his own orgasm takes over him. Afterward they simply lie together, entangled like that, letting their happiness wash over them.

Once he comes down from his high, he hurries to arrange them side to side, so he’s not putting any pressure on John’s abdomen. His friend huffs, mostly amused and murmurs something about it being perfectly safe, but Sherlock isn’t willing to risk it. He presses a quick kiss against the nape of his neck and John hums contently, pressing closer to him, their bodies fitting together perfectly.

“I love you,” he murmurs finally, aware that John is drifting to sleep, but wanting to say it outloud. His companion chuckles, taking his hand in his and squeezing it softly. Sherlock’s heart skips a beat and he smiles, feeling incredibly content and at peace.

Of course there’s still much to discuss and these last few weeks can’t be easily forgotten or overlooked, but as John pointed out, they just mean they need to work on their communication. It won’t necessarily be easy and it’s likely the road ahead will still be filled with bumps but for now-

For now here they are, together and happy and that’s really all either of them could ask for.

Chapter Text

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes, how dare you?! I raised you better than that, young man!”

John tries to keep himself from laughing, but one look at Sherlock’s face makes him burst into giggles. His friend is holding his phone as far away from himself as possible, his mother’s voice taking a shrilling tone that would make a lesser man run for the hills. Sherlock looks physically pained, his face contorted in a mixture of displeasure and actual shame and John offers him a soft smile, leaning to press a quick kiss against his cheek that has the other male smiling brightly, his mother’s ire momentarily forgotten.

“Are you listening to me?!” Mrs. Holmes exclaims and this time even John flinches. His baby’s grandmother is quite a force to be reckoned with and he doesn’t envy Sherlock having to explain to her that they’re going to have a baby.

“Mummy, I-”

“Oh, Mycroft has already explained why I’m just finding out right now,” Mrs. Holmes carries on and both John and Sherlock make a face at the older Holmes’ interference. “And we’re going to have a talk about that too, young man, don’t you think differently. Honestly, that poor boy… John already puts up with too much from you and-”

Sherlock is making a face again, but this time he’s obviously upset by his mother’s words. John grasp his hand in his, squeezing tightly and pressing his whole body against his friend’s. Sherlock smiles briefly at him but he’s obviously taking his mother’s words to heart.

That won’t do.

“Good morning, Mrs. Holmes,” John greets politely, pulling the phone from his beloved and Sherlock starts protesting, but falls silent at one glare from the blond. “Sherlock just wanted to break the news to you, but I’m afraid we really need to go now. We have a busy day ahead from us.” Before the female can say another word, he hangs up, much to Sherlock’s surprise. He smiles cheekily, leaning in for a kiss, this time on the lips.

“She adores you, John, but she’s not going to let you get away with that,” his friend informs him very seriously, before a mischievous smile makes its way to his lips.

“Well, we’ll just have to deal with the consequences,” John argues calmly and Sherlock laughs good naturedly. “I don’t ‘put up’ with you. That would suggest I don’t enjoy you dragging me along into whatever crazy endeavour you come up with.” Sherlock bites his lip, not quite convinced, but willing not to argue for now. “I love you,” he adds for good measure and that brings the brightest smile to his lover’s lips.

“I love you too,” Sherlock replies softly. “I’m glad we got that sorted.”

John can’t help to laugh at that.

He’s glad too.

Sarah rolls her eyes, listening to the two bickering Alpha males following her. She’s tired, she had a long day at the hospital and she would much rather be home taking a hard deserved nap, but they did promise John they would help to set up the crib and considering Bill and Mike spend most of their time arguing about ridiculous things instead of actually working, she figured she really couldn’t depend on them.

She opens the door to the apartment, hoping that John will be able to talk some sense into his silly ex flatmates, but all thoughts flight from her mind at the sight that awaits for her inside the flat.

Sherlock Holmes is sitting by the kitchen counter, staring at nothing in particular, looking for all intents and purposes lost in his own mind. Not an uncommon occurrence, or at least not in Sarah’s experience, but-

“What are you doing here?” she demands, probably a tad too harshly and the male seems to snap out of whatever he’s thinking to turn to look at her, one eyebrow arched. She was always very understanding of John’s friendship with him, so she can’t say they got along badly, but there’s certainly no love lost between them.

Considering the current circumstances though-

John steps out of the bedroom them, looking actually rested and happy for the first time since this whole mess started. Sarah stares suspiciously at him and when the Omega notices, he immediately freezes. “Oh. Hello Sarah,” he greets with a shy smile and she frowns a bit, at lost of what exactly is going on here.

“What is he doing here, John?” she questions as calmly as she can, aware that by now her companions have also made it into the room. She spares a quick glance in their direction and notices Mike’s surprised look, along with Bill’s barely contained fury.

“It’s alright,” John hurries to assure them, taking a step towards Sherlock, instinctively coming in between the three Alphas that would happily tear him apart for all the distress he has caused to what they consider a member of their pack. “It’s alright. We talked it through.”

“How lovely,” Sarah hisses, incapable of holding back her anger, “and that’s it? He came calling and you just forgave him?”

John narrows his eyes at her then, standing up straighter. “Even if that was the case, I don’t see how’s that any of your concern.”

She growls, taking a step towards him in what’s probably a very aggressive manner. Behind her she can feel Mike and Bill shifting, ready to intervene, but unsure of how to at this point. John stands his ground, puffing his chest out although his scent has turned a tad sour with fear and Sherlock springs from his seat, coming to stand in front of the Omega, shielding him with his body.

They seem to have reached an impasse. Sarah forces herself to take deep breaths through her mouth, knowing she’s reacting on pure protective instinct, her wish to see John happy and safe urging her to behave aggressively in the face of what she perceives as a threat. It’s obvious however, that John is perfectly content with the situation and while she can’t understand his behavior, she recognizes it’s not her place to intervene.

“I apologize,” she whispers, taking a step back. “That was uncalled for.”

Sherlock is still staring at her warily, but John has came out from behind him, looking much more calm now. His scent is back to its usual sweet tones and he smiles a bit, looking a tad embarrassed. “I apologize too,” he whispers softly. “I was out of line too.”

Sarah nods tightly, her inner Alpha appeased for now. Logically, she knows John owes her nothing, including an explanation, but her instincts insist otherwise. She, however, is more than her biology and she knows better than to let her hormones get the best of her.

“So, John, care to explain?” Bill says, breaking the tense silence that has fallen upon them. John turns to him then, a soft frown on his face, biting his lip nervously.

Sarah tenses once more, her protective instincts still on overdrive. John spares a quick look in her direction and then sighs, turning to look at Sherlock briefly. The Beta nods, taking his hand and John turns once more to them, a small smile on his lips.

“Sure. Would you like some tea while we talk?” he offers politely, steering the three Alphas towards the living room while Sherlock remains in the kitchen, presumably to prepare the offered tea.

Sarah frowns. This is most unusual, really.

She would like an explanation very much indeed.

The following conversation is awkward and full of tense silences, making Sherlock’s skin itch. He’s half tempted to simply walk away more than once, but while he doesn’t particularly care about what people might think, he’s willing to make an effort to put up with John’s friends. Besides, these are the people that have been with him every step of the way ever since he found out he was pregnant, unlike himself, who had simply left. Granted, he hadn’t thought the baby was his, but the point remains.

He’s also finding out all sort of interesting and some worrisome things, like John’s near miscarriage. His friend avoids his eyes when the matter is brought up and Sherlock makes a mental note to yell a little at Mycroft for not telling him that; if he had known-

Well, no use on thinking of what-ifs.

“So, what happens now?” Mike asks good naturedly, the Alpha being the less tense of them. It’s obvious that Sarah and Bill’s previous relationships with John aren’t really letting them be completely neutral about the whole thing, but they both are making an effort to be understanding and supportive. It’s evident that neither is really convinced of Sherlock’s ‘innocence’, but they’re willing not to argue the subject for the time being.

“Well, we haven’t really discussed that yet,” John supplies helpfully and Sherlock turns to look at him, a slight frown on his face. It’s true that they haven’t discussed it, but he had assumed-

His frown deepens, remembering how much his assumptions have costed him. He really needs to stop assuming things and instead start talking to John. It’s the only way they’ll avoid any more misunderstandings.

Work on their communications skills indeed.

“I was thinking we would get married.”

John almost chokes on his tea, most definitely not having been expecting that. “What?!” he hisses, wondering why Sherlock thinks that this is a good moment to propose. They have barely sorted out things between them, they are still delivering the news to their friends and family-

“You heard me perfectly well,” Sherlock protests, with a slight pout. “You know I hate repeating myself.”

“Well, yes,” John says, turning his attention to the unwashed dishes, not completely comfortable with the conversation, “but I didn’t- why would you say that?”

Sherlock frowns, coming to lean on the counter next to him. “Mike asked what we were going to do now. You said we hadn’t discussed it and well, we really hadn’t. But I assumed- I assumed we would get married.”

“Why?” John asks, honestly curious. His stomach is turning, not in an completely unpleasant way. It’s not that he doesn’t want to marry, it’s just that he wants to make sure they’re doing it for the right reasons.

“We’re having a baby.”

“Yes, but we don’t need to be married for that,” John argues calmly, still not looking at his friend.

“Don’t you- don’t you want to get married?”

John sighs, finally turning to look at Sherlock. “Of course I want to. But- don’t you think- we haven’t- we haven’t even actually dated-”

“John, you’ve been my best friend since we were seven,” Sherlock interrupts him, grabbing his hands, “I’ve loved you since then. I don’t need- I want to be with you the rest of my life. I have no doubts about it.”

John bites his lip gently. “It’s just- It’s a big decision, isn’t it? Not something to be taken lightly-”

“So is having a baby!” Sherlock argues vehemently, squeezing his hands just a bit too tightly. “I- You said- I thought-”

Seeing Sherlock being so unsure about something makes John ache. His friend should never look like this; he’s always calm and confident, he shouldn’t- “I do want to be with you, love,” John whispers, stepping closer to him. “I just- Are you sure?”

Sherlock snorts, “John, you know me. If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t have brought the matter up.”

John laughs, pressing a chaste kiss against the other male’s lips. “Alright. Just- Just wanted to be sure. I don’t think- I wanted to make sure we were doing it for the right reasons. Not just because you felt obligated.”

Sherlock hums, pulling him closer, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I never do things out of obligation.” John smiles, knowing that all too well and kisses him once more, “although I should probably tell you Mummy would have our heads if we had a baby out of wedlock. Bad enough is that I got you pregnant without us bonding first-”

John laughs, shaking his head. “Well, I’m guessing we shouldn’t upset your mother further.”

“We really shouldn’t,” Sherlock agrees, a big smile on his lips. “But I do want to marry you.”

Once more, John laughs.

Sherlock can hear John talking to his mother on the phone in the next room. Mrs. Watson has never liked him, so they both had agreed it would be for the best if John talked to her on his own. To be honest, Sherlock is a bit worried about the outcome of that conversation; family disapproval is sort of a deal breaker, although-

John has never let his mother’s opinion on his friendship with Sherlock bother him. This shouldn’t be any different, really, but then again- they’re going to be family now. And it wouldn’t do to be in ill terms with his mother-in-law…

“She wants to talk to you,” John whispers, suddenly appearing at his side. Sherlock gulps, but nods, taking the phone.

“Hello?”

“You know I’ve never liked you, Sherlock Holmes. You’ve been a terrible influence on my boy, ever since you were younger and that hasn’t changed one bit with the years. And now you’ve also broken his heart, even if that wasn’t intentional.” Sherlock gulps, nodding along, even if his interlocutor can’t see him. “But he has chosen to forgive you and believe your excuses and I’m- I’m going to have to trust him to have made the best decision. But if you ever hurt him again-”

“I won’t,” Sherlock hurries to assure her, “I swear I won’t. I couldn’t- I love him, Mrs. Watson. I didn’t mean to hurt him and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for that,” he promises, eyes locked with John’s. His friend smiles, leaning in for a quick kiss.

There’s a long silence on the other end of the line and finally, a sigh. “Good. That’s all I wanted to hear.”

Mycroft and Sherlock are at the living room, discussing wedding preparations. John is torn between being amused and horrified, so out of the norm it is. He really doesn’t particularly care about the ceremony, but Mrs. Holmes has delivered some very particular specifications of what she expects and her sons know better than to risk her wrath.

The engagement party sounds particularly daunting, if he must be honest with himself. So many Holmes in just one place doesn’t bode well for anyone and he knows how… old fashioned Sherlock’s family can be, but he supposes he’ll endure. He won’t have to deal with them on regular basis, so he guesses he can manage for a couple of days.

“Are you sure about this?” Greg asks him, eying the other two males in the living room with a bit of unease.

“About the wedding? Or about letting them organize it?”

“Both, I guess,” the detective tells him, his nose scrunched in displeasure. “You know what I think about your capacity for forgiveness.”

John chuckles, good naturedly. “I love him, Greg.”

“Yeah, I gathered as much.” The other Omega stays in silence for a long while, contemplating the contents of his mug as if it hold the secrets of the universe. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

John spares a quick glance in Sherlock’s direction, a fond smile on his lips. “It was all a misunderstanding.”

“But he did hurt you.”

John nods sadly. “We hurt each other. But we’re working on that,” he turns to Greg, a confident look on his face. “It’s not perfect, not yet, but- we love each other. I’m certain of that.”

Greg nods, “well, best of lucks then, mate.”

“So, thoughts on that?”

“Huh?”

“Flowers, John!” Sherlock says, pulling his hair exasperatedly. “Roses or-?”

“I honestly don’t care.”

“But John-”

“There are many other things I would rather be doing while in bed with my fiancé that don’t include wedding preparations.”

“But John-”

“Roses. Lilies. Tulips. A bit of everything; I honestly don’t care Sherlock.”

Sherlock sighs, pursuing his lips but not arguing any further. John frowns; there’s something wrong with this. “What’s the matter? What’s really bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Sherlock argues, with a half shrug. “Nothing.”

“Sherlock-”

“It’s just- I want it to be perfect.”

Sherlock looks terribly unsure, way out of his deep. John can’t help the fond smile that comes unbidden to his lips and he wraps himself around his lover’s back, kissing the nape of his neck softly. “It’s going to be perfect, love. And if not, it doesn’t matter; the end result is the same: you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

Sherlock chuckles, shaking his head. “I think it’s rather the other way around.”

John shrugs, kissing his way down his shoulders. “We’ll be stuck with each other then. The two of us, as usual.” He stops suddenly, a strange sensation on his stomach.

“John?”

“I-” there it is again. A little… it’s a bit… oh. “The baby is moving.”

Sherlock turns to him quickly, a look of open wonderment in his face. “Can I feel him?” he asks softly, his hands already resting on John’s stomach. John nods vaguely, feeling a tad overwhelmed. His hormones are making him emotional, he knows, but he’s not about to start crying once more, dammit! He has cried more in these last few months than in his whole his life. “John?”

“You won’t be able to feel him just yet.” John says, his voice breaking at the end. “Too small for that.”

“John, are you-?”

“It’s the hormones!” he snaps, frustrated. “I’ve been crying far too much!”

Sherlock observes him for a beat, obviously unsure of how to react to his outburst, which of course just makes his urge to cry intensify. Finally, his friend-turned-fiancé laughs, pulling him into a hug. “It’s fine, John. It’s all fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” John whispers, a slight pout on his lips. “You’re not the emotional wreck,” he argues, but there’s no real bite in it. He’s bubbling with happiness, even if his stupid body insists that crying it the best way to express it.

In lieu of an answer, Sherlock kisses him.