-:- John -:-
I lay there, dying on a forgotten battlefield in Afghanistan, and the only thing I could think was, 'Well, at least it's over'.
Only it wasn't.
A shadowy figure snuffled about inspecting the corpses littered across the desert sand. In the light of the full moon, I saw it going on all fours, and it had a long tail, but as it came closer, stepping into a bright patch of moonlight, I saw what it was, and my heart filled with dread.
It was a wolf. A werewolf.
He/she/it started to sniff me next inspecting my leg. I had taken a bullet to it, which had just barely grazed my femoral artery. It was a miracle I hadn't bled out yet, but it also might have been due to the fact that I had placed and tightened my belt just above the wound, improvising a tourniquet. I gripped my gun tightly, prepared to fight for my life, but as it's hot breath was in my face, I found I couldn't move.
The last thing I saw before it bit into my shoulder, saving my life, was a bright flash of yellow eyes.
I pulled an apple out of the small fridge in the cheap wolf-friendly apartment the Army had set up for me. It had been seven weeks since I had turned, six since the army had discharged me honorably, and three since my first full moon. I had tried to be quiet as I shifted in the werewolf proof bunker in the basement, but you can't help but make a few noises as your bones stretch and break, and your skin tears open.
A few of the other people in my complex, the human ones, gave me dirty looks as I stumbled, half dragging myself up the three flights of stairs to my flat. I got a few threats after they found out that I was a Were, people taping hateful notes to my door, and lately that hasn't been enough. Someone has taken to slathering chicken blood over my door, by the smell of it. I cleaned it up, considering this was the possibly only place I could afford on an army pension.
But the second time it happened I made a plan to leave this shitty studio, and find better accomodations, somewhere else.
Everyone knows about the mythical creatures that roamed the streets of London nowadays. It wasn't anything new. Supernatural complexes had cropped up in the better parts of the City, specifically for the Weres, Vamps, and Witches. People tended to judge those of us that weren't fully human, calling us things like 'Cur', 'Bloodsucker', or accusing us of practicing Satanism. Nonsense really, coming from people who don't know what supernatural creatures really are. They're, well now it's we're, just people... Not better or worse than someone who is human.
Most don't mind us, but it seems to me that everyone who hates creatures tends to live in a "supernatural-friendly" apartment complex. They were simply ordinary complexes that had been given a slight renovation to make them fit for a Creature to live in.
My senses ha been drastically amplified since I had been bitten, and my temper was more dangerous now, and I could hear every word whispered by the couple next door. They constantly fought, mostly about money, but I knew to stuff cotton I my ears when they started whispering about, and I quote, "that freak in apartment 3F".
Just like they were doing now. Greeeaaat, more drama.
I put my apple back in the fridge, and decided to get out of the flat for once, and take a walk I Regent's Park. It was a beautiful day outside, and I saw no need to listen to the bullshit coming from my neighbors. The sunshine felt nice on my skin, and I could see hear and smell like I never had before. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, idly strolling down the path, content. I passed a group of teens having a picnic on the last week of summer break, and I pulled my shirt collar a little higher, making sure my scars were covered.
"John! John Watson!" I heard someone call behind me. As I turned, the wind gusted I my direction, and I smelled someone on the portly man walking towards me. The smell made my wolf howl with desire, deep in my chest. I ignored him, frowning at the sensation of longing. "Stamford, Mike Stamford, we were at Bart's together." The man in front of me said. I caught a whiff of him then, and he wasn't the one who was making my wolf lose his damn mind, but he was with them an hour or so before.
I remembered Mike then, a trifle younger. "Yes, Mike, hello." I said, shaking his hand
He chuckled amusedly, saying, "Yeah, I know, I got fat. But you, last I heard you were abroad somewhere, getting shot at. What happened?"
I sighed, resigning myself to his judgement. "I got shot... And worse."
"Well, what's the 'and worse'?" Mike asked, as we sat in Regent's Park, after getting coffee from the Criterion.
I flinched, shutting my eyes tightly against the flash of yellow. I willed my hands not to shake as I set my coffee down. "I'd rather not talk about it. You would run."
"Oh. I see. You got bit." He said softly, "Do you at least have a decent place to live?"
I looked at him, stunned. I remembered Mike being a decent enough bloke in uni, but this? Actually still sitting here with me, knowing I'm a Were? This was something else. I blinked, shock clear on my face.
"Ah, don't give me that look. You're still the same guy... Just a little hungrier." He grinned, and added, "I take it then your flat is shit? The one the Army set up?"
"Yeah... But I can't afford a decent place... Not a Creatures only building, not on an Army pension." I frowned at him as he grinned. What...
"I know someone who can help you with that. I was just talking to him an hour ago." Mike stood up, saying, "He's a wolf who's also looking for lodgings. Name's Sherlock Holmes, and he's probably still at Bart's right now if you want to meet him..."
-:- John -:-
I walked down the old familiar hallways of St. Bartholomew's, and caught a whiff of that scent. The new-yet-familiar smell that made my wolf try to escape my strict hold I had on him. I took a deep breath, smelling. It was fresh now. Whomever it was is here, in the building, and the smell only intensified as we walked to wherever Mike was taking me. I couldn't understand why this is happening to me, how just smelling someone could set off this, this yearning for them.
I'd never been taught much about being a wolf, just a pamphlet and a video on what to expect. The bare minimum of the things I probably should have been told about my new condition. I'd already known that silver would burn me, and wolfsbane would, in low doses knock me out, in high doses kill me, and everyone knows that a Were turns into a wolf on the full moon. But this was never mentioned, not even a single "hey, one day you will find a person whose smell makes you want to rip their clothes off and fuck until next Tuesday..." Nothing like that.
Hesitantly for me, yet eagerly for my wolf, I walked into the chem lab after Mike. A tall, dashingly handsome man stood at a microscope, ignoring us, until a fan blew my scent his way. His head snapped up, and his golden eyes found mine. A soft whine came from him, as he walked slowly towards me.
"She needs you." Was all he said, untucking his white button up, and lifting it to reveal an old scar on his side. Ah.. his wolf was a 'she'. Mine was howling at me, trying to get me to aka him back to my place so we could fuck like rabbits. I showed him my scar, pulling my shirt collar to the side, as he let out an aching whine, like a dog for food.
"This is an old friend of mine, Sherlock, Dr. John Watson. He's new." Good old Mike, keeping us sane.
"This wasn't in the pamphlet... Please, can you help? I don't understand..." I wanted, no needed him, my wolf was begging me to claim those plush lips with my own, to run my hands through those thick black curls... God I was so fucked. I trembled, fearing that my wolf would come out any minute.
"Do you have a safe place to stay?" He asked in his glorious baritone voice, then, cocked his head, blinking hard. "I'm sorry, I can tell that you don't. " Walking back to the microscope he had been using, he switched it off, and grabbed his satchel. I hadn't noticed it, as it lay on the stool next to him. I could barely stop myself from snogging him, as he stood in front of me. "I know a place in central London, together we could make it work." He looked at me, looked into me, and I saw a hint of the same desire in his eyes, before he mastered it. "Address is 221B Baker Street, meet me there at noon tomorrow."
I nodded, clenching my hands into fists to stop me from reaching to him, as he left me standing there. I shakily exhaled, leaning on the chemical bench. What the actual fuck was going on with me?
-:- Sherlock -:-
I hailed a cab to take me home, home to my shitty little studio on Montague street, my mind and heart racing out of control. As soon as I stammered out my address to the cabbie, I texted my brother, Mycroft.
I need you
Less than thirty seconds passed before I heard my phone ring, as I rested my head on the cool leather interior of the cab. I knew he would never ignore a text like that, and he always preferred to hear my voice. He could tell how I was feeling just by my tone.
"Mycroft. I found him, the one she needs." I said weakly, all of my strength going to keeping myself from asking the cabbie to take me back. "We're meeting tommorow at noon. I'll tell him then." Tell him I'm dying.
Yes, I was dying. Being slowly killed by my wolf from my inside out. I'd been bitten at sixteen, much too young. The wolf hormones increased exponentially as my puberty spiked, and they continued to increase, never ceasing. John was a recent turn, I could tell, just by his manner. He would make it. Me, however was a whole different story. The witch who lived in the shop next to my building said I had a month before my body would start to reject her therapies, and at most two before I either died, or lost myself to my wolf.
The sad truth is, most teenagers who were turned don't stand a chance. That's why the bastards who turn them get heavy jail time. Hardly any live past twenty, and here I am at twenty-five, no longer running on borrowed time, but stolen time.
I said a few more words of explanation to my brother, and hung up as the cab pulled up to the dump I called home.
Thank God I was getting out of this hellhole.
I stopped by the manager's office on my way up, and left a note that I'd be leaving tomorrow, didn't really matter, he was never in anyways. God this place was my own personal nightmare, but at least no one had slipped powdered silver in my mail in a few weeks, so... Kudos to whomever finally got the message.
I found myself thinking of John that night, as I lay on my bed, searching for sleep. Wondering if this attraction was as strong as I hoped it was. Having someone to care for me as I left the world, or someone to care for my wolf, if that was the case, wouldn't be so terrible. It might actually be... nice, to have a mate.
-:- Sherlock -:-
I stood in front of the door, as I waited for John at Baker Street. I didn't know why, but I felt slightly stronger today... Of course it was probably just a fluke, whatever it was. She still paced in my chest, as eager to see John as I. There was something about him; his voice, his smell, his face, that made me feel alive. It was maddening. Why on Earth was this happening now, when I only had months to live?
His cab pulled up, and I instantly relaxed, as soon as I saw his grin. God. What the hell was happening to me? How could a complete and total stranger make me feel this way? I pulled my Thermos out of my satchel, and drank a few large gulps, immediately feeling the relief of Raina's herbs. "Hello, John." I said, as he knocked on the door.
"Hello, Sherlock. What's that you're drinking? It smells... interesting." He asked, frowning as I put the Thermos back in my bag. "Makes my nose tingle," he added.
"It's nothing, just tea. Helps with my wolf hormones." I said, leaving out the bit about it keeping me alive. It was a little bit early to talk about that with John. Even though my heart wanted to. I'd had a chat with the woman keeping my heart ticking, Raina, and she told me, well, confirmed my suspicions that John was my mate. She said that if he Claimed me, and vice versa, John could at the very least ease my passing, or care for my wolf.
"Sherlock! Oh, you, come here..." I turned to the sound of Mrs Hudson's voice, after giving him a small - hopefully reassuring - smile, and put on a fake grin for the old woman. I gently gave her the required hug, and looked to John.
"I helped her out a few years ago. Ruffians and whatnot." I explained, and turned to Hudders. "This is Dr John Watson, Mrs Hudson."
"Alright, come on in, boys..." She held the door open for us, and ushered us down a short hallway. "Now down there is where you can go for the full moon," she gestured to a stairway leading down to the basement, "there's two bunkers down there with a few blankets and a wolf-proof mattress each. It's a little bit chilly right now, but that's just because I need to turn the basement heat on soon." Then we walked up a carpeted stairway, and to the vacant flat that I viewed yesterday. It was a simple two bedroom flat, with an airy sitting room, and a small kitchen in the back, and was cheerily furnished.
"There's a second bedroom for you, John, and a nice Tesco down the street for groceries. Do you think you'll take it?" Mrs Hudson asked us as if we could find anything else that was this perfect.
I looked to John, and he seemed amazed Mrs Hudson's kindness. We'll, he didn't know her as well as I do, if he had, he would expect this. My old friend always had a soft spot for lost causes, and her late husband had been a Were, like us.
"I like it, what about you, Sherlock?" He looked up at me hopefully. I was surprised he hadn't noticed that I had already moved in.
I grinned, nodding. It would certainly be interesting, living with John. Our conditions would see to it that it was never boring.
-:- John -:-
"So, are you going to tell me what that was, back at Bart's, I'm still confused about that. I..."
Sherlock finished unpacking his books, putting them on the shelves next to the fireplace, and sat next to me on the couch.
When I first saw him, he'd looked like death warmed over, twice; now he seemed slightly healthier, almost like he wasn't a corpse. But I noticed how, several times today, as we'd went about unpacking, he'd drink from that strange smelling Thermos. I wonder if it was helping, his 'tea'. Honestly, I prayed it was, Sherlock was a truly interesting person. Dashingly handsome, and clever. He told me my life story after I asked him for an example of his deductions. It was amazing. I truly hoped he'd get better, because I really wanted to date him. Being attracted to a man was nothing new to me, I am bisexual, after all, but my wolf kept sneaking into my mind at all the wrong moments, begging me to sleep with him.
"John, your pamphlet, it really didn't say anything about this?" Sherlock's gaze was focused on a speck of dust on his knee, and he shifted uncomfortably. Almost like this was a very taboo subject amongst Weres. Or like he was asking me out...
Oh. I recalled a vague hint about something in the video, a hint about 'mates'. Apparently they were the person your wolf was destined to be with. That was why my wolf was losing his damn mind. Sherlock is my mate. A sense of relief washed through me at the thought, the simple acceptance of the bond giving me a blissful sense of peace.
"We're mates." I said, looking to him for confirmation of the fact. I knew I was falling for him, but was he doing the same with me? Could he want me as much as I need him?
"Yes, John... We're mates... But I... We..." Tears fell from his eyes, as he struggled to find the right words.
I carefully took him into my arms, soothingly rubbing his back, as my very perceptive wolf paced in my chest. We both knew that something was off. Something was wrong with this. Why...
"I'm dying, John."
-:- Sherlock -:-
I uttered those three little words. Three words that brought my entire life tumbling down about my ears. I'm dying. There was no way around it. Yes, John we are mates. Yes, John, I'm in love with you already. But no, John, we will never see our true potential. I couldn't even dream of what we could be if only I'd been even just nineteen when I was bit. If I could live... There was so much more than what he knew about me, but I didn't have the heart to tell him.
I rested my head on his shoulder, as the tears slowly subsided to the usual calm acceptance of the hand fate dealt me.
"I'm sorry I dragged you into this John. I didn't mean to ever find my mate. I'd only break his heart sooner or later." I said at last, pulling away, and drying my eyes. I couldn't read his expression, it seemed to be somewhere between determination and affection. Odd.
"Why are you dying?" He asked at last. Gently, he ran his hand through my hair, and I leaned into his touch. It soothed the ragged ache in my chest, and seemed to make it easier to breathe.
"I was turned young, at sixteen. I... It's a miracle I'm still alive to be telling you this. The hormones..." I could smell his wonderful scent, my wolf curled up and almost purring inside me.
"You said the tea, it helps?" His face turned sad, as his palm rested on my face. I wanted to take it away, his pain. He shouldn't have to suffer with me.
I looked deep into his blue eyes, my heart absolutely breaking for this poor man. To find your mate as he slowly wasted away before your eyes... "The tea helps, but it's merely temporary. Eventually, sooner rather than later, it will stop working, and either my body will shut down, or my wolf will take over. Either way, I'll be gone in a few months. I'm sorry."
He blinked, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I won't let you do this alone, Sherlock. I'll be here for you through this. Even take care of your wolf, if that's what it comes down to. I'm falling hard, and I can tell you need me. So does your wolf."
I nodded in agreement. "She does, John. God... I wish that I wasn't going to die. If I lived we could... We'll, it's useless to dream." I muttered the last bit, leaning my head back on his shoulder, and curling into his side. His arms wrapped around my sickly thin frame, and we stayed like that for a long time. I hoped he would never ask about the reason my wolf was a she, and all of the internal complications that entailed.
-:- Sherlock -:-
I slept with John that night, mainly because my wolf was only ever quiet when I was in his arms. And of course he wanted to spend every last moment with me. We just talked, as I lay in his arms, simply getting to know one another outside of the werewolf thing. I told him about the cases I'd solved for the Met, and my job as a police consultant. He, in return told me about the war, and shared about his PTSD. I held him tighter at that, wishing I could make it better for him. However, we chose not to discuss the thing that loomed over our heads, like a hammer waiting to fall; my impending death. I focused on the moment, the feeling of safety as I fell asleep mid-sentence.
I truly meant it when I said I never really intended to find my mate. Even with the Mythical Creatures Act of 2010, which gave us rights, laws, privileges, the whole bit, I knew that I would still never marry. I'd never seen the point; I'm a dead man walking, why drag them down with me?
But I wondered to myself, as I fell asleep with my head on John's chest, if he was the reason I'd felt stronger. If my wolf wasn't killing me as fast because she liked him too. Wishful thinking, I know.
I woke up the next morning with John's smell filling my nose, and for the first time since I'd been turned, I felt good. Like I wasn't a Stage Four cancer patient... I felt whole. I snuck a peek at his face, only to find him already awake and smiling at me softly. "Hi," I said, taking a long sniff of him before getting out of bed and into my dressing gown. It was rather endearing, how he'd let me sleep in, even though he could have woken me up. He truly cared.
"Is that a wolf thing, the smelling?" He asked, as he stretched, yawning.
"Honestly, I don't know. Your smell... It's so good, John. I can't even begin to tell you the effect it has on my wolf." I picked up my phone to see if Greg had texted me about any cases he had for me today. I solved the last one yesterday in the lab.
Greg is Gregory Holmes-Lestrade, my brother's husband, and when Brother Mine let slip that I was having difficulties with finding a job, due to my condition... Well my dear brother-in-law put in the paperwork to make me a special consultant to the Yard immediately. Mycroft and I both have brilliant minds, high above the average person, and we can easily deduce the lives of anyone who comes our way. Mycroft uses his talent in the employ of Her Majesty's government. To most people who meet him, he is a lowly office worker in the Intelligence Service. To his family, the ones who he trusts, he is the British Government.
Greg, it turns out, hadn't texted me since he confirmed the last case's outcome. But it was only ten-thirty, still early.
I walked towards the kitchen, only to find out that John had gotten there first. He was cheerily frying up the eggs and bacon Mrs Hudson had put in our fridge the day before. My mate grinned broadly at me as he looked up. "Studies say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. So, I've made you bacon, eggs, and toast with marmalade." He finished up with the scrambled eggs, and piled what I rightfully guessed was my plate with the majority of them. Likewise with the bacon. Only the toast was split with any semblance of equality.
"John, you really don't have to..." I said, with a small sigh. But he wasn't having any of it, so I sat down to breakfast with a resigned expression. I didn't want him to get attached to me. I looked at him wearily and took a bite of the eggs. God, they were good. I involuntarily sighed; it had been years since food had tasted this good.
"Is it okay?" John asked with a smile, to which I nodded, grinning.
"Delicious." I said, once my mouth was clear. I couldn't understand why he was grinning like a fool, but I thoroughly enjoyed seeing his smile. It made me feel warm inside, and my wolf enjoyed it as well.
Dammit, Sherlock, it won't last! You're dying remember?
If I was indeed dying, then why did I feel so good?
"So, what's on the agenda for today?" John asked. I held up a finger, cocking my head to the side. I heard Greg's slow, heavy footsteps on the pavement outside, and then on the stairs to our front door. Apparently, by his racing heartbeat and laborious breathing, I had a case. I knew the signs.
"I have a case. Do you want to join me?" I asked, with a grin at John's thoroughly puzzled expression. I stood, crossing the floor to open the door for my dear brother-in-law. "Hello, Greg."
"Sherlock, vampire attack, Brixton. Lauriston Gardens to be exact." He said, though not particularly urgently.
"Dead?" I assumed that was the case. Besides, if the victim is dead, then Greg can meet my mate, because a dead body can easily wait for us.
"Yeah," he said, taking a look around the flat. "Your new place is nice, Sherlock. A hell of a lot better than that shit hole on Montague street. Who are you going halves with again?"
"Me." John appeared in the kitchen doorway, nursing a cup of coffee. He had the most smug little grin on his handsome face, so what came next really didn't surprise me all that much. "His mate."
Greg imitated a goldfish perfectly. It was rather uncanny, how well he lived up to Mycroft's pet name for him.
"Congrats, Sherlock..." He said at last, clearly in shock. He knew that I would never willingly seek out my mate, even though it was pure foolishness on my part. It was rather nice to have a mate. "I hope you have told him about... I mean, God. I shouldn't have said anything, but..." He was clearly floundering. I heaved a dramatic sigh. To hell with it.
"John knows all about my condition. Don't worry." I rolled my eyes at his sluggishness, and John laughed. "I actually feel better, being exposed to him. Almost like I'm not dying anymore. Weird." I shook my head, trying to clear the small feeling nibbling at the back of my mind. It almost felt like... hope. Which was ridiculous, considering I hadn't had hope since I was twenty, and been told that I was a dead man walking. Weird indeed. We'll, now wasn't the time to ponder this hope. Now I have another case.
"Ill be at the crime scene in a little while, Greg. Let me shower and prepare some tea." I walked back to the bedroom, leaving my brother-in-law to converse with my mate.
-:- John -:-
I gave Greg a long, searching look, and wondered to myself how he and Sherlock met. There was a clear age gap between them, but he genuinely seemed to care about my mate. "Do you want some coffee?" I asked, leaning on the doorframe. It couldn't hurt to be nice.
"Sure, You're... John?" He followed me to the kitchen. Upon seeing the rather large breakfast Sherlock and I had halfway finished he raised his eyebrows. "Sherlock, in the eight years I've known him had never eaten that much. At least not at one time."
"Well," I said, as I handed him his coffee, "I think that there's a lot of things Sherlock has never really done." I took a sip of my coffee, and looked at him over the rim of my mug. "I plan on changing that." I smiled softly as I entertained myself with a vision of a happy Sherlock at Christmas, and us kissing under the mistletoe. Yes, there would be a lot Sherlock and I will do.
I snapped back to the present as Greg asked, "And you're... okay, with him being a Were?" God, he really couldn't tell?
"I'm one too. So of course." I grinned as he gaped. I hoped Greg would be around for a long time, he was rather unique and I liked him.
"So, do you have any idea why his wolf is a she? Is it just him being well, different? Or is there a real reason?" I tried to act casual as I inquired about the question that was bothering me. The first time I heard him refer to 'her' I was just trying to not rip his clothes off. Now that I'd calmed down, and could think rationally, it struck me as odd. How could Sherlock - obviously male - have a female wolf? I was still highly inexperienced about this whole werewolf business but... I was pretty sure my wolf is a male, and that your wolf matches your gender...
"That's really a Sherlock question, John. He's a bit sensitive about it and all." Greg finished his coffee, and rinsed the mug, setting it in the sink. "Tell him I'll see him at the scene, yeah? I'm late enough as it is." I nodded, as he left, shutting the door behind him.
Sherlock emerged from the bedroom then, wearing nothing except a tiny towel, and I nearly had a coronary. God, he was perfect. I longer to run my hands over his pale, perfect skin, and take him over the kitchen table. Fuck. That's the wolf talking, John. Your first time with Sherlock has to be special, has to fucking mean something. It can't be simply instincts, and your wolf wanting it. But God did he smell good damp.
Sherlock seemed to be oblivious to my tension as he casually said, "There's still hot water, if you fancy a wash, John."
I hummed, "Yeah, okay..." I deliberately looked anywhere except his glorious, damp, half-naked body. Fuck, these thoughts really weren't helping the Sherlock-induced issue in my pants. My wolf howled inside me, his desperate cries loud in my ears as he begged me to take him. Claim him.
"John, are you alright?" He cleared his throat, finally scenting the adrenaline coursing through my veins. He chuckled nervously, and asked, "Does my nakedness turn you on John?"
"Yes," I challenged, as I daringly looked into his eyes. Electricity surged between us, Sparks flying from our eyes, as I smelled his adrenaline as it spiked. I couldn't look away, as I took an unconscious step towards him. His eyes widened, and pupils dilated, as his breath hitched. I could hear his heart pounding, or was it mine?
"We have a case..." He murmured half-heartedly. I could tell he felt the same overwhelming desire as I did. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him.
I took a deep breath and looked away, forcing myself to master my wolf. As I locked him back inside the tight confines of his cage, I trembled. I had majorly fucked up this time. I had just met him! "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I couldn't stop... My wolf..." That was the only excuse I had, even though it was completely true, it still sounded weak to my own ears. As the raging desire slowly faded, shame filled its place. I could have hurt him...
"John." His voice was soft, and warm. I looked back into his eyes, eyes filled with an understanding I didn't deserve. He had such a better control of his wolf than I did. "It's alright. I get it, get that the hormones are like going through a second puberty. I just want the first time we make love to be special." He smiled tenderly, and I hesitantly returned it, feeling relief.
"I do too."
I really needed to get my wolf in check.
-:- John -:-
"So, Sherlock, erm. I ... I have a question." I nervously fidgeted in the cab, as we headed off to the crime scene, half an hour after 'the incident'. I was slightly hesitant to ask, but I was extremely confused about her, his wolf. How on Earth could Sherlock have a female wolf? Was he, in fact, a woman?
"It's about my wolf, isn't it? Why She is indeed a she?" He leaned into my side, appearing completely at ease. Lacing our fingers together idly, he began to explain. "I was high on a specific cocktail of drugs the night I was turned, it was one of those designer drugs, called Unium. The drug mutated the virus, giving my wolf the opposite gender... It's actually quite simple. I met another wrong gendered Were once. He had also been high on the same drug. But it was just a coincidence that we both happened to be gay."
Oh. I guess that actually made sense, I think. No one knows exactly how the virus works, and what different drugs can do to it... Anything could happen under the circumstances. I wrapped my free arm around him , and kissed his temple. "I'm glad I found you in time." I murmured into his hair as he leaned into me further.
"Mhm. Me too. I don't feel like I have one foot in the grave anymore, because of you."
-:- Sherlock -:-
John paid the cabbie, as we arrived at the crime scene. I grabbed his hand, as we approached Sgt Donovan, who was standing at the police line. Feeling my wolf becoming agitated by her presence, I shut my eyes briefly and focused on John's smell. I opened my eyes to find her looking at me skeptically. "Hello, Sally." God, she was such a speciesist.
"Hello, freak. Who's your... Who's this?" She asked, insultingly. I knew that she thought I was incapable of having friends.
I felt John tense up beside me in anger, understanding her insinuation. I could tell that he was about thirty seconds from wolfing out, so I murmured to him, "She's not worth it, John.." I let go of his hand to place my arm around his waist holding him close. He glared at Sally, as I explained, "John is my mate, Sgt Donovan. We found each other two days ago." Knowing that it made her extremely uncomfortable, I gave her my brightest and also most sinister smile, asking. "If you can show us the crime scene, that would be lovely..."
She scowled, lifting her radio, and announcing our arrival as I lifted the tape for John. "Freak and co. are here. Bringing them in." She said it in a tone that spoke volumes of her disdain for nonhumans. I sniffed, as I walked behind her, and her scent seemed different. I smirked to myself, realizing what it was. She had been spending a late night with Anderson, I could still detect a lingering trace of sex on her. I wondered why she chose him of all people. But it was oddly fitting, my two least favorite people having an affair.
As we approached the door to the house in question, we were greeted by Anderson's rather unfortunate face. "Now listen here Sherlock, this is My crime scene, and I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear?" He glared at me intently. I knew then that both Sally and he had come to their own conclusions on this case, and resented the fact that I was here to prove them wrong yet again. I was very glad that Greg no longer solely listened to them, and thought for himself every once in a while.
"Oh, but of course, Phillip. I wouldn't dream of contaminating your precious crime scene." I said mockingly, and batted my eyelashes, my face sweet and innocent. I knew he loathed the way I was able to deduce what had happened to the victims without the use of fancy machinery, most of the time. Occasionally I needed to use Bart's lab for chemical analyses, but those cases were few and far between. My heightened sense of smell was in itself a useful tool, and Anderson was jealous.
I led John into the house, and to the room where Greg was waiting for us. The DI raised his eyebrows, clearly asking why I had chosen to bring along my mate on a case, to which I merely shrugged. I pulled on a pair of latex gloves, as John put on one of those absolutely ridiculous blue sterile suits, at my brother-in-law's request. We followed Greg up to the first floor, and he explained the case as we went up the stairs.
"Some kids found her this morning, lying in a pool of blood, obviously dead." I frowned upon hearing the words 'pool of blood', the description not fitting in with the Met's conclusion of a vampire attack. An uncontrollable vampire would drain their victim completely... If they were interrupted, for a human it would be a Turning, not death... I knew then that it most likely wasn't a vampire.
"She's in here," Greg said, as I almost gagged on the scent of old blood and death. It permeated the air, stifling me. John actually did gag and I told him to breathe through his mouth. The taste, however, was almost as bad as the smell. I shuddered, desperately trying to ignore it, as I inspected the corpse.
She was in her late thirties, judging by her face, unhappily married for ten years - her dirty wedding bands lay outside the pool of blood, and I picked one up, taking a closer look. Ah, long term affair. Multiple. I examined her neck next, and the so called 'bite'. It was simply two holes pierced in her carotid artery, two perfect holes. Yes, this was no vampire at all.
"John, come here. I would like to have your opinion." I looked up at him from my hunched position on the floor. Greg gave him the go-ahead to help, and he stepped around the blood to where I was. "The so-called 'bite'', doesn't it seem a bit too perfect to you? No tearing, no marks of the other teeth..." I hoped he agreed with me.
"You're definitely on to something there, Sherlock. As far as I know, a vampire bite is shaped like a human one, except that the canines are more pronounced. This is just like someone punctured her carotid with a screwdriver." He frowned, sniffing. "There's something else, too. Something in her blood a chemical of some sort." John's frown deepened, as he realized the implications of this. Someone was framing a Creature for their ordinary homicide. I was highly disturbed, because if Greg hadn't had the common sense to call me in, they would have gotten away with it.
We shared a glance, as we stood, and I walked towards Greg, and the door.
"It wasn't a Vamp. My assumption is her husband, or whomever she was cheating on him with." I sniffed, trying to see if I could identify the drug used to sedate/kill her. "Drugged her with.. cocaine, and dragged her here. Punctured her neck with a circular object, I assume a screwdriver, but it may have been something else."
"Fuck." My brother-in-law really did love to curse. So did I, but he was supposed to be more professional than me, him being my boss and all. "I know exactly who is responsible for this. The husband claimed to be in town on business, but his company denied it. We cleared him because he is human... I've got it from here, Sherlock. Thanks."
"John," I asked, as we made our way back downstairs, "do you want to go get a late lunch?" I hoped he would say yes, because I knew of a great Italian restaurant over by our flat that had excellent food. I knew the owner of the place, and helped him off a murder charge. He gave me preferential treatment, and was a good friend.
"Sure, you go get us a cab, while I get out of this suit." John said, with a soft smile. He walked into the first room, and I left the building, passing Sally on my way out.
-:- John -:-
I unzipped the blue suit, and pulled my arms out of the damn contraption; it had been a struggle to get on too. I heard heels clicking on the floor, and looked up just in time to see Sgt Donovan standing in the door. I personally loathed the woman, after only knowing her for a few minutes. She was most definitely a speciesist. "What?" I irritatedly asked, finally managing to get the suit off, and put on my jacket.
"You're mated to that psychopath?" She said, obviously scornful. "Do you even know what he is?" I didn't get the woman. If she hated Sherlock, then why the hell did she care?
"I am also a Were, Donovan." I replied, showing her the angry flash of yellow in my eyes. I don't care if she was afraid of me after that, I most definitely wasn't going to let her hurt Sherlock. "And he's not a psychopath, he's unique. Any more snarky comments, any word at all to Sherlock, and I'll be reporting you for harassment. Go to hell, Sally." I pushed past her, going to Sherlock.
I found him just outside the police tape, leaning against our cab, a beautiful smile on his face. God he was so perfect. I hurried towards him, and took him into my arms. "Sally's a bitch." I muttered into his shoulder. I felt his chuckle as it shook his body. He wrapped his arms around me and I felt a warmth bloom in my chest, as he kissed the top of my head, and rested his cheek on it.
"I know she is, love." Love. It sounded so natural for him to call me that. I turned my face upwards, grinning broadly. He called me love. I felt like I was filled with molten wax, warm and slightly squishy. "What?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.
"You love me." I knew I was grinning like a fool, but I couldn't help it. Sherlock loved me. He smiled, and gently pressed his lips to mine. Pulling back, he smiled again, his eyes soft and warm, just like my insides.
"Of course I do, you're my mate." He murmured, brushing his lips against my forehead. I closed my eyes, leaning into his embrace. It was so new, being in love as a Were. So much quicker, and so much more intense.
"I love you too."
The gender bend comes into play in this chapter, and everything that Sherlock's female wolf entails.
-:- Sherlock -:-
We walked in to Angelo's together, completely smitten with each other. I really hoped that this newfound sense of wellbeing was real, because I didn't know how to live without John. The waiter indicated my usual table by the window, where I loved to people watch. John slid into the booth after me, and wrapped his ankle around mine under the table. I laughed, kissing his cheek. Angelo chose to appear at that moment, and I saw he had a candle for our table. I grinned at John, as this was now officially a date.
"Sherlock..." Angelo said with a broad smile, "So glad to see that you took my advice." He set the lit candle down and pulled out a menu for John. "You look, dare I say, more than half alive now."
"Angelo, this is John, my mate." I took John's hand, smiling at my lover. "I think he's curing my wolf." John smiled in amazement, hearing that. I knew he would be thrilled to hear that I have hope.
"This is the best man I know, John. He saved me from prison." My friend couldn't stop himself from trying to convince John that I was pretty much perfect. To which I scoffed, giving him a look. "Alright, he got me off a murder charge. Still went to prison for house breaking, but at least I didn't get the rope." He laughed at that, as did I.
"You never would have gotten the rope, Angelo." I rolled my eyes at him as he left. I knew that I was giddy from the high of a freshly solved case, but I felt that a part of it was John. He was like a ... God, I don't know how to describe it. He warmed me, made me feel life and joy for the first time in years, actually for the first time in almost a decade. My throat constricted, as I gazed at his face. He was the perfect one in this relationship. I gave him a kiss, and murmured, "I love you," as a tear formed in the pit of my eye.
He took my face in his hands, stroking my cheekbones with his thumbs. I knew that I was being an absolute idiot, but I simply couldn't get over how well and whole I felt with John. I blinked, letting the tear fall, and John's gentle thumb rubbed it away. We stayed like that for a long while, just gazing into each other's eyes, conveying all that we needed to say in this tender moment of reassurance.
I smiled softly, exhaling shakily and pulling back as the waiter came to take our order. John smiled, and picked up his menu. "The Alfredo is good, John. Billy, I'll have my usual."
"Well, if my mate says it's good, I'll trust him. I'll have the chicken fettuccine Alfredo, and a coffee." John handed him his menu, and looked back at me. My wolf hadn't been this calm in... well, ever. She actually seemed happy in his presence, which intensified the feeling that her and I had finally come to an agreement. I prayed to whomever was listening that we had, because I would really like to have all of those quaint relationship tropes with John.
Our first Christmas, and snogging him under the mistletoe. Staying up past midnight on New year's Eve and having our first kiss in 2020. Dyeing eggs on Easter... Even marriage and kids. "John... There's something I need to tell you..." I debated the best way to broach the subject with myself, completely unsure of how to begin.
I'd learned from tests I'd undergone after my first full moon, at Myc's insisting, that because I have a female wolf, I also bore a secondary reproductive system, I indeed could bear children. My mutation was very rare, but I knew... Well, I hoped John wouldn't be disgusted by it. Wouldn't be revolted that I was neither completely male nor female. "John..." I hesitated, as Billy brought our orders to the table, and I accepted my grilled chicken Greek salad and coffee. It looked and smelled delicious.
"Sherlock, what are you trying to say?" John asked, and then took a bite of his pasta. I hoped he would take it well.
"Do you... Do you ever want kids, John?" I asked. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Sherlock! Just tell him!
John paused for a long while, his face turning sad, and thoughtful. I wanted to take away the sadness in his eyes, but I was just a little bit afraid of him rejecting me. So I simply took a bite of my salad, though it tasted less delicious than it had a minute before. Mainly because my wolf was howling in my ears at my foolishness. "I'd like to have kids, Sherlock." John said, "But it's hard enough for two men to adopt a child together, let alone two men who are Weres." I closed my eyes, sighing with relief. He wants kids.
"Well, we don't necessarily need to adopt," I said quietly, and even quieter added, "I can get pregnant for you."
He gaped, literally gaped, his fork nearly falling from his hand in his shock. Please let it just be shock, I thought, let him just be surprised, and not revolted. I had a few negative experiences with telling people about my unique condition, but John wasn't like those people, not like the bastards who made me afraid of my own body. I looked at John worriedly, but slowly a beautiful smile spread across his face, and an answering one graced mine. He was happy, happy that I can give him a tiny little Watson. God, how I wanted to. A child of our own, with John's beautiful eyes, and incredible ability to love.
"Sherlock... You mean..." He smiled so largely that I could guess his face was hurting.
"My mutation, my female wolf, the virus that made her gave me a female reproductive system," I said, as I took his hand in mine. "Mycroft, my older brother, took me to a specialist in the Werewolf virus and had me examined, when I had complications after my first full moon. Myc knew that what was happening to me was very far out of the ordinary. A few hormonal tests and an ultrasound later we learned of the side effects of a man having a female wolf." I rubbed his knuckles with my thumb, and murmured, "Is it okay? Do you still want me as a mate?"
"Sherlock." I glanced up at him, but the only emotions that I saw on his face were love and joy. No fear, no revulsion. He picked up my hands, and kissed them softly. "This is probably the best news I could get, aside from you not having to die. I-" he stopped, tears forming in his eyes. No John, don't be sad. This is good, I can have your babies. "I've never been happier," he finished, smiling through the tears. "I thought becoming a Were meant that I would be alone, or at the most, I would find a husband or wife, but that it would just be us... But this..."
I kissed him. I took his face in my hands and snogged the hell out of him. My wolf stretched, eager to take this home and to the bedroom, which was understandable, giving that I was a few hours away from this month's heat, but I controlled her. I didn't need to be rushing to get pregnant. I pulled away after a bit, needing air, even though I'd been breathing through my nose the entire time. I said, still gasping for air, "I love you, John. And I want to have your cubs." I meant every word, especially the 'cubs'. We're Weres after all, any children we have will carry our virus.
He grinned at me, dazed. Suddenly I caught the scent of my brother, and looked behind me. "Perfect timing, Brother Mine." I said, shifting away from John, and turning to face Mycroft.
He was wearing one of his expensive suits, and still had his briefcase and umbrella from a day at the office. I turned back to John, and began the introduction. "John this is my older brother, Mycroft Holmes-Lestrade. Myc, this is my John." I moved closer to my mate, making room for Myc on the seat. My poor older brother looked like he was going to faint from exhaustion. "Are you alright, Myc? You look worse than I do, for a change." I grinned, as Mycroft rolled his eyes at me.
"I've had my hands full, worrying about you, Sherl." He feigned indifference as I mock gasped.
"Oh, Myc. How many times I have told you; mild concern, or slight anxiety about me are fine, but I draw the line at actual worry." That got me a tired chuckle, and I began to give him the 'well, out with it' look. I knew he had something to say about this, and Myc was always honest with me. Always.
"Sherlock, for someone with your... particular condition, it may be... a trifle inadvisable to advertise your and John's relationship. Especially amongst other Weres."
-:- John -:-
"What the hell do you mean?" I asked, angry at this tosser's condescending tone. What bloody right did he have to say we can't be- Sherlock's hand gripped my wrist tightly, and I saw him give me a tight smile, and shake his head infinitesimally.
The meaning was clear - he means well.
"I'm sorry?" Mycroft hadn't caught our little exchange, apparently. "Unless you intend to fully Claim my brother, I suggest you keep your relationship quiet. Other Weres have shown a desire for Sherlock, and they could become fiercely territorial over someone they believe is 'theirs'." He raised an eyebrow as I struggled for words. What did he mean, 'fully claim'? I was completely new to being a Were, and I'd only been through a single full moon!
"John, don't panic. I promise I'll explain." Sherlock soothingly rubbed my arm, but I only became more confused. My wolf calmed at his touch, but I think it only made me worried. "I'm in a pack, John. I-I don't go to all of the meetings, but an Alpha has desired me, well, her, to be the mother of his cubs. I make sure to stay at home when I'm in heat, but still... He wants to mate with me. I told him no, he's not my mate. I need you, as my true life-mate to give me your Mark, so we can be together. I need you to stake your Claim." Sherlock hesitantly smiled at me, clearly begging for my acceptance, but I didn't even know what it was I was supposed to do!
Mycroft apparently saw my confusion. "You never had someone to show you the ropes of being a Were, did you?" His voice seemed kinder now, as he opened his briefcase. I looked at my mate, but Sherlock seemed to be saddened by this. Saddened by the fact that I'd never had a Wolf mentor. Mycroft fished out a thick stack of papers, bound together, and handed the government issued copy paper to me. "This is a compilation of everything we know about Weres. Sherlock should be the one to walk you through it, but this could be a supplement to his knowledge." Mycroft closed his case, and stood. "Sherlock. I'll see you soon, and I'll be bringing along the paperwork needed by our PM. I'm sorry for upsetting your mate, but you have to be careful."
"Sherlock," I said seriously, "I know that you wanted us to know each other without the Werewolf thing coming into play, but... We need to have that discussion. I don't know the first thing about being a Were, apparently. I need you to teach me." I held the stack of papers tightly, and swallowed nervously. "Please love, teach me about our species. I need you to."
"I know. I will."
Hello, this is your author speaking. Just a friendly little warning to our young and impressionable readers:
Thank you to all of my loyal readers, and happy bonus chapter!
-:- John -:-
"So this pack... deal. Tell me about it." I said when we finally returned home. It was just turning five o'clock, and Sherlock settled into the couch next to me, nestling into my side. He sighed, clearly searching for the right words to describe it. He toyed with the hem of my jumper, and sighed again, snuggling closer.
"All wolves need a pack. Something to belong to. Our packs give us help in times of need, and usually are where you find your mate." He paused his hands, only to wrap his arms around my waist. I could tell this was hard for him to explain. "There's three classes of Weres in a Pack. First you have Alphas, like you. Alphas are the dominant ones, the males. Then you have the Betas and the Omegas. Betas are submissive to the Alphas, but more dominant than the Omegas which are the - usually - females. I'm an Omega, technically speaking, and that's why I only go to half of the Pack's meetings. We generally have one pre-full moon, and one after. But before the full moon is when I'm going through my heats, and it would be very dangerous if I was around an Alpha who isn't my mate at that time."
"Why is it so dangerous? I just don't want to be an Alpha you need to fear, love, that's all." I suppose I shouldn't have asked that question right now, because Sherlock tensed up, and I could smell a trace of his fear.
"John... When I go into heat, I'm... Irrational at best. I am very aroused, for the three days before the moon, and my smell lets every Alpha know that I'm ripe for the taking. You would never hurt me, I know that, but other unmated Alphas, they would, they would use my body, and some might not even care if they got me pregnant. I'm just another Omega to them." I held Sherlock close to me, planting a kiss on the top of his head. I swore to myself that I would never use him when he was in heat, not like that. Only if he asked me to help him, would I have sex. Always with his approval.
"In my Pack, we have five Alphas who make up the Council. They decide on new members, usually rejecting loners, but a wolf that's mates with one of us is let in. There's three other, lesser, Alphas, and three Betas. Us Omegas number about twelve. It's not a very large Pack, but we're strong, and close knit. The one element of discord is James. The rest of the pack knows my wolf hates him, but he doesn't get it. He demanded a mating trial for the next meet, and he knows that he would win." Sherlock turned his face towards mine, and the desperation on his face broke my heart.
"How do I Claim you, Sherlock? Tell me how to keep you safe. Please." I whispered brokenly. I never wanted to see this fear in his eyes ever again. I knew that I would do anything for him, anything at all.
"John to make your Claim, you need to Mark me." Sherlock's eyes held a different sort of fear now. The fear of rejection. "You need to bite me."
-:- Sherlock -:-
I felt John freeze in fear. He probably wasn't expecting that, and I know that he never wanted to hurt me. I held him tight, listening to his heartbeat accelerate. No, John. I promise you won't hurt me. I leaned up, kissing his neck softly, right where I would give him my Mark. "John..." I murmured against his pulse point. "It won't hurt, I promise. The other Omegas said it was very... orgasm inducing." I hoped that he would stop being afraid, and even now I felt my heat starting. John gave me a confused look.
"We're supposed to bite each other during sex?" He asked. I could still smell a lingering trace of his fear.
Nodding, I let go of him and climbed into his lap, fisting my hands in his shirt, and pressing my body against his. "John, I want you to bite me as we fuck each other's brains out. Please, John." I snuck my cold hands beneath his jumper, and heard his breath hitch as his pupils dilated. I knew he felt the burgeoning erection I had, and he claimed my lips with his own.
I kissed him desperately, feeling my heat hit me full force. I could smell his musky scent, and it threw my wolf into a fit of need. I ground against him, feeling him harden, as my own erection throbbed in my pants. "John... Please, I need it." I gasped, as he sucked on my neck. His teeth grazed my carotid artery, and I let out a whimper.
His hands started on my shirt buttons, and I gasped as the cool air hit my bare skin. Somehow, we made it to the bedroom, losing articles of clothing along the way. John backed me up against the door after he shut it, and helped me out of the last item of clothing I had on, my boxers. He was already naked, and I put my hands on his shoulders; leaning against the door, I wrapped my legs around his hips.
The friction of him against me alone could have made me come, but I wanted him inside me. Needed it almost as much as my wolf.
She came out to play as his teeth grazed my nipple, my eyes burning gold, and fangs elongating. I panted harshly, desperate whines escaping my clenched teeth. John looked up from his attentions to my oh so sensitive nipples, and his own eyes shone yellow in the dim light. "I need you. Inside me."
He effortlessly lifted me, and carried me to the bed. I kicked off the duvet, as he withdrew lube and a condom from his bedside drawer. He settled down on top of me, and I groaned, "Please, John." It seemed to be my phrase of the evening.
He set the condom aside for now, taking a bit of lube and preparing me. I gasped at the intrusion, then moaned as his fingers found my prostate. "I'm good." I said, as soon as I knew that I was stretched enough.
He let out a rumbling growl, as he looked into my eyes and read the desperation there. He slipped on the birth control, and coated himself in lube.
I almost wolfed out, as I felt him enter me, filling me with his erection. "John..." I moaned as he moved, sending wave after wave of pleasure through me. I moved my hips with his, as our amber eyes met. Yes, he was my Alpha, I could tell by what the mated Omegas called the 'Shimmer' that showed in his eyes.
I moaned again as he picked up the speed, and pumped my briefly forgotten erection in time with his thrusts.
"Sherlock... I'm almost there..." John said, soft growls escaping his chest. I turned my head to the side, baring my pale neck. Please John, Claim me.
His fangs elongated as he eyed my creamy skin, and I let out an encouraging whine. It seemed to drive his wolf insane. His fangs broke my skin, and I shuddered, as the violent climax brought on by John's Claim rocked through my body, instinctively biting down on John's exposed neck. My bite helped him reach the same point, and suddenly I felt a snap within me, as the condom broke.
Fuck... God, no. Not yet, we're not ready for a child yet.
I released his neck, his blood staining my lips. He let go as well, tenderly lapping at my wound. I hesitantly said to him, "The condom broke..."
He groaned, burying his face in the pillow behind me. I licked at his Mark, knowing my saliva would help it heal faster. I could already feel the tears in my skin from his teeth closing, and welcomed the scar that was forming. John's Mark. I felt my wolf curl up and - if it's possible for a wolf - start to purr at the taste of John's blood. She was like a happy dog in front of a fire now, utterly content with his Claim.
"Sherlock..." John said, carefully pulling out of me, and removing the failed protection, "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" Oh, John...
"No, my love. You didn't hurt me." I sighed sleepily, completely spent. "John, you have no idea how amazing that was." He crossed the floor to the closet, and even though I was exhausted, I helped him change the sheets, and we crawled under the covers.
I nestled my head on his bare chest, close to his beating heart, and slipped one of my legs between his. John made a satisfied humming noise, as his hands ran through my sweaty curls. "I love you, Dr John Watson." I mumbled through a yawn. He chuckled softly, his hands massaging my scalp. Now I was purring.
"I love you, Sherlock Holmes."
-:- John -::-
I woke up to Sherlock's gentle snoring, his body still intertwined with my own. I closed my eyes, humming contentedly. My wolf was curled up inside of me, just as happy as I was. I started to drift back to sleep, until Sherlock stirred in my arms. I smiled softly, and kissed the bridge of his nose, with a "Good morning, beautiful." He sleepily grinned back, snuggling back in my embrace.
We stayed like that for a long time, just enjoying the morning, but I glanced over at the clock, and saw the time. "Hey, love, I think we should get up. It's ten thirty." He yawned, getting out of the bed, and going to take a shower. At the last moment, he looked over his shoulder and just grinned. I knew what he was asking, and I joined him in the shower, cheerily using his soap. I loved that he took the time to properly do his hair, it was so soft.
I got out, wrapping a towel about my waist, and Sherlock finished putting all of his silly products in his hair. He toweled his curls afterwards, which to me defeated the purpose, but he did it just so. I brushed my teeth, then surrendered the sink to go get dressed in the bedroom. "You know, I'm not really a morning person, but if they all start like this... I could get used to it." Sherlock chuckled, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist.
I leaned back into his arms, murmuring, "I'm going to make some breakfast, you want some?" He nodded, kissing my neck, and letting me go. I put on my cardigan, and shut the door behind me as I made my way to the kitchen. I fried up eggs and the last of the bacon, making a shopping list on a scrap of paper. We really need to get food. Sherlock came in to the kitchen then, and added a few things to the list. As I plated up the eggs, I glanced at it. I was shocked to see he put down 'pregnancy test'. Fuck.
"Sherlock..." I looked at my mate, as he pulled the small jug of milk from our fridge. "Sherlock, this... On the list. Do you think last night, we?" I could barely form a sentence. Suddenly the bacon popped, and I pulled it off the burner. Sherlock seemed to be a little hesitant to answer me.
"Yes, John. I do think that. My heat is over after that, I don't know what else to think. But if, if you don't want it, I can go to the doctors'. We really just started out, we don't need a baby complicating things." It slowly dawned on me that he was talking about getting an abortion. God, my knees shook as I tried to form a coherent thought. I want our child. This beautiful little life that was growing within him, it was mine. My baby.
"Don't you dare." I managed to say at last, looking up at him with a sense of loss. "Don't you dare get rid of our beautiful baby, Sherlock. Please, I want it. I want our child." He looked like he'd just been thrown a life vest in the middle of the ocean. Joy colored his features as I reached out to take him in my arms. I buried my face in the curve of his neck, smelling his scent, and I smelled - already - the smallest shift from last night's.
Mrs. Hudson chose that moment to appear with a tea tray filled to the brim. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry, boys. I didn't mean to interrupt your moment." She set the tray down, and I saw out of the corner of my eye, her curiosity.
"I'm pregnant, Hudders." Sherlock said, holding on to me like I was going to leave him if he let go. I would never do that, I wanted to tell him. I'm never leaving him, not for the world. A tear leaked from my eye as I sniffled.
"And we are going to keep the baby." I added, gently disentangling myself. I kissed his cheek, gently adding, "I absolutely love you. So much it hurts." He sniffed, wiping away a tear, and smiled.
"John's my mate, Mrs Hudson. And I know for a fact that my wolf is appeased. I don't need my witch's hormonal therapy anymore." Sherlock sat down to eat and added, "I'm going to need to pay her a visit though, just to be sure." I nearly cried at the sense of relief that I had, from his simple assurance. I'd prayed, even though I've never been religious, I prayed that he would be okay. That I could spend the rest of my life with him, and we would grow old together, surrounded by our grandchildren.
"Do you want me to come too?" I asked pointlessly. I knew I needed to be there, for my own peace of mind. And also, I have to protect him now, no matter what. I can't lose him and our baby.
"I'd like that, John." He smiled at me. "She should meet you, anyways. For the entire time I've known her, she's been encouraging me to find my mate." Now his smile took on an ironic edge, as he took my hand across the table. "Little did she know my mate hadn't even been turned yet."
I smiled sheepishly, muttering, "I couldn't have sped anything up, love." I took a bite of my breakfast, as Hudders left. We ate in companionable silence for a while, but I felt that I needed to ask, "When am I going to meet your pack? I don't want to rush, but I feel like it's important, love."
"I know. The mating trial was scheduled for the meeting before next month's moon. That's when I'll bring you to meet them." He gave me a hesitant smile, and added, "We should do the shopping today; the full moon is in three nights. We need to prepare."
I nodded, adding, "After we meet with the witch. Then we can go to the Tesco, and relax."
I hoped this full moon was better than the last.
-:- Sherlock -:-
I stepped from the cab that brought John and I to Montague street, with my mate close behind me. I led him past the dingy building that I had lived in before we met, and to Raina's lovely little shop. It was a small two story building nestled between the larger, dirtier modern buildings on either side. Old script graced the faded sign, and vining plants crawled up the inside of the glass, completely obscuring the large front window.
We walked in, the small tinkling chimes above the door announcing our arrival. I grinned, as Salem, Raina's familiar, stalked up to us. I knew he didn't fully approve of Wolves, but she said that he likes me. I had yet to see proof. I greeted him with a soft, "Hello, Sale," to which he dismissively flicked his ears and wandered back to wherever he was napping. I took John's hand, and we ventured deeper into the shop, trying not to disturb the numerous plants obscuring the floor.
Raina wasn't exactly what you would expect from a 400 year old witch. She still appears to be in her early twenties, with a mop of curly red hair, and vibrantly green eyes. She wore skinny jeans and combat boots, and varied her band tees depending on her mood. Usually she was cheerful, with a smile for everyone, and today was no exception. She stepped out of the back room with a broad grin.
"Sherlock," she said, her eyes glowing a brighter green, as she read our auras. "You've been Claimed." She smiled, turning to John. "Thanks, he would have died, had he not found you." Raina twirled one of the bright red curls framing her face, and read my aura again. "Congrats, too. I can't wait to see what your cub looks like."
John smiled tenderly, and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed my shoulder, murmuring, "Me too." I was immensely glad John wanted to keep our child. I loved the little life growing in my womb so much already. I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to our baby.
I grinned at him, kissing his cheek, and whispering, "Thank you, John." His eyes turned sad, as he told me it wasn't a thing I need to thank him for, it was his child. He loved it so much already.
I held him close, as Rai gave us a smile. She then pulled a wooden bowl carved with runes from underneath the counter, and I knew what she needed from me. I gave her my palm, wincing as she ran her bejeweled dagger across it, and let the trickle of blood fall into the bowl.
John looked confused as I pulled my hand back, licking my wound to help with the healing process. "Just pay attention to what she says," I muttered to him. Rai added several different herbs to the bowl, and passed a glowing moonstone over it. My blood began to sizzle, fizzing up, and turning brown. My friend studied the remains, then let out a deep sigh of relief. He looked at me and beamed.
"The Claim took, Sherlock. Your wolf hormones have finally stabilized. You'll be fine. And even if I didn't know from reading your aura, you are pregnant." John was almost - no he was crying happily, as he took me in his arms.
"You're going to live." He said, his voice thick with emotion.
-:- John -:-
We stopped at the store on the way home, to get groceries, and things that we'd need for the full moon. I added a jar of marmalade to the basket, while Sherlock was browsing the coffee section, eventually settling on a Kona blend. We discussed our food preferences, and also what we actually could cook. Sherlock put ramen noodles in the cart, and I added ingredients for teriyaki. Cereal was a good option, and more eggs.
Finally we arrived at the meat section of the store. My mate put two large steaks in; with a sheepish grin he said, "She's a bit spoiled..." I laughed, and added a large package of chicken breasts. My wolf was never picky. Plus, if we save half, I can make chicken strips for a delicious dinner. Sherlock was so happy right now, as we bustled about in our domestic bliss. Any lingering trace of sadness could be attributed to the fifty-something business man who gave us a look as we kissed in the small section of Halloween decorations.
We went through the checkout line, getting a questioning look at the chicken and steak we had bought. I shrugged, not caring about what the human cashier thought. Sherlock was going to be fine, that's all I cared about.
"That'll be £75.27," she said, as she rang up the last item. Sherlock took out his bank card, and I grabbed the majority of the bags. He planted a swift kiss to my neck, and I blinked at the tiny shock I received as his mouth hit my Mark.
"That was strange." I muttered as we walked home, rubbing my neck with my shoulder. It tingled a little. He gave me a questioning look, as we walked past a group of teens. "When you kissed my Mark, I felt a little jolt... Not particularly painful, just unexpected." I wasn't going to let anyone or anything ruin this day.
Sherlock is going to live.
We made it home, only to find out that we had an intruder in our flat.
He took a look at the Mark on Sherlock's neck, softly saying, "I do hope that you used protection, Brother Mine. You know Mummy, she'll be crying at the first hint of a grandchild."
Sherlock chuckled, putting the shopping on the table, and taking my bags as well. "We did, Myc. It failed." He quietly began to put away the groceries, and I saw Mycroft look at his brother with a small frown. "I'm sorry, Myc, but we're going to have our first child in nine months." He turned, giving him a slight grin, and tenderly caressing his stomach. His eyes were soft and warm, and he leaned on the refrigerator door.
Mycroft's eyes softened, as he smiled. "Congratulations, Sherl. I can't wait to be an uncle." He looked at me, and said, "I can tell that he is going to be fine, just by his mood. Thank you, John. For curing his wolf."
I nodded, and took a glance at the table, and the stack of papers on it. They weren't all that much, but I know that they're very important. They were the paperwork we needed to fill out in order to claim each other legally as mates. We would then get a version of a marriage license, and the same rights as a married human couple.
"I am glad that I have filed the papers as a breeding pair." He said, with an ironic edge.
"Thanks, Mycroft. Where do you work again?" I asked, which earned me a laugh.
"I work for the Government."
My mate laughed as well, quipping, "He means he is the Government, when he's not playing MI-6, or the Secret service, or the CIA on a freelance basis. Myc is a very powerful ally, John."
"I can tell." I said, and held out my hand. "I'm glad we're on the same side."
He shook it, replying, "As am I."
Leave a comment if anyone wants a prequel with Sherlock getting turned!
I'm going to start posting, if I do, after chapter 10/11
It's a bit more about the Were social structure, and also poor Sherlock's heats. You haven't yet been a part of those, and also his bleeds, which I haven't even mentioned in this timeline.
After that part of the series, you get happy Johnlock pregnancy fluff and then the little fluffy cub comes along...
-:- Sherlock -:-
The day before the full moon was rather hard on my body. I was incredibly tired, exhausted to the point of collapse, and John had to assist me in getting to the bunker.
Now, as sunset neared, I could feel her stretching, slowly taking over control of my mind. John stayed next to me the whole time, with me in my bunker, so that we could comfort each other's fears, and our wolves could get familiar with each other. It was a slightly bad idea, yes, anything could happen, but I was confident that they would feel as we do.
My watch lay on the pile of my clothes, and I glanced at it, just in time for it to hit official sunset, 9:15. My bones started to crack and stretch, and my skin tore open as she emerged. John underwent his own shift, and I heard him cry out in pain. Poor John.
As my wolf stood, we looked at John, snuffling him, and softly whining. Our tail wagged, as we stuck our shaggy black head in his face, nosing him gently.
His wolf was glorious. A full six inches taller in the shoulder, and had sandy grey and brown fur. While we were a dark black all over, he had a distinct pattern to his fur.
We nosed him again, begging him to get up. They blinked, pants coming from their open mouth and smiled, young lolling out. John got to his paws, and sniffed us.
He made his way around us, snuffling. We held still, wanting to please our mate. As he came back in front of us, he let out a soft whuff, and licked our muzzle in approval. John likes us.
Our paw came up and playfully batted at him, and he grinned, pouncing. We romped around the room, simply playing as wolves. However, things... Took a turn, when she pressed into him, as she lay beneath, letting out a panting whine.
What was she doing? ... Oh.
She wanted her turn to have sex with our mate. And John's wolf obliged her. He mounted us with pleasurable pants, pushing into us. If I was human, in full control, I would have moaned at the feeling of John filling me. After what seemed to be hours, and many orgasms on our part, he climaxed, and pulled out, tenderly licking our muzzle in a clear invitation to rest.
Our wolves settled down on the mattress, and John's put his foreleg over our smaller frame, protecting us, and keeping us warm. We woke a while later and shared a meal of the raw foods, and once more fell asleep, this time until the sun rise, and we returned to our humanity.
I awoke the next morning, human again, and sore. Not just from the shift, but John was large as a wolf, and he hadn't exactly been gentle. The bunker reeked of sex, and I wouldn't have been surprised if Mrs Hudson had heard our animalistic love-making.
John lay curled around my back, his arm around my middle, and I felt his gentle breath on the back of my neck. It seemed that for once, i was up first. I turned over, kissing him softly awake. "John..." I murmured.
"Hey, love," he said, smiling tiredly. "I'm sorry for what my wolf did. I couldn't control him."
I kissed him again, and murmured softly, "It's alright. You're forgiven." I stood, only to wince as my internal muscles moved, shooting me through with discomfort. John caught that, my pain, and immediately started to apologise.
"I'm so sorry, love, I-" I shook my head, kissing him to stop the apologies. I couldn't blame him for what his wolf did, and my wolf had, quite literally, begged for it. She was a little bit of a whore.
"John. We asked." I said, trying to ease his guilt. I enjoyed last night immensely, it was indeed the best full moon I had been through. And besides, our wolves needed to know one another, that was a huge step as mates. John just looked at me with a sad face, clearly feeling bad that I was sore. "It didn't hurt. You were a little bit large as a wolf, but it felt good for me."
He smiled, kissing me, and muttering, "I'm still sorry you're in pain. My wolf could have been gentler." I kissed him back, and told him I was fine. He apparently believed me, and helped me get dressed in the loose cotton pyjamas that I came down here in. I grabbed the pack of mixed biscuits, and started to munch on them, as John got dressed himself.
We spent the day in bed, after a quick shower, and relaxed, too sore to do much else. It was incredibly nice, laying in his arms, and talking. Anything and everything we discussed, from our favorite books, to our favorite colors. Mine has always been blue, and John's was red. Dozing in and out of sleep, we eventually ate that casserole Hudders left us, and watched a bit of Dr. Who. It was an interesting show, and I let John help me to bed, as it turned ten.
-:- John -:-
We finally were able to function normally on the third day after the shift, and Sherlock proposed that we do something, and I quote, "fun." I knew Sherlock's sense of fun was very much unusual, but I gave in when he said that he just wanted me to meet his friend Molly Hooper.
It turns out that she was the coroner at Bart's and also... a Vampire. I knew he could never be normal.
He showed me into her office, which had a slightly odd smell to it, a bit... corpse like.
"Hello, Sherlock, who is this?" Molly asked, as I walked into her office, which was surprisingly cheery for someone like her.
She didn't really look like a Vampire either, being small and mousy, with auburn hair and hazel eyes. But she did have the characteristic paleness, and dark rings around her eyes. She looked rather ill, to be honest, but I knew she wasn't. Vampires, like Weres, are immune.
"Molly Hooper, I'd like you to meet John. My mate." Sherlock said proudly, and I murmured a hello, shaking her hand.
She eyed me critically, walking around her desk. "Are you a wolf too?" She asked at last. I grinned and nodded, to which she smiled. "I'm glad he's finally found you. He was looking worse than me for a while there." She glanced to Sherlock, and he laughed, apparently it was their joke - who looks more like death.
"So, what brings you mortal creatures to the land of the dead?" Molly asked, as Sherlock pulled me into his lap, as he sat in the large leather chair in the corner. Molly leaned on her desk, and tilted her head, "A case, or just visiting?"
My mate laughed quietly, and snuggled me closer. "Just visiting, Moll. I wanted you to meet my John. He's cured my wolf." He tucked my head under his chin, and we went full cuddle mode in the chair. Molly didn't mind. "I'm pregnant, too."
"That's amazing news Sherlock! Oh, congrats!" She beamed at us, and asked the inevitable question. "How far along are you?"
"Not far, less than a week." My mate seemed to be good friends with her, and they chatted aimlessly, me occasionally coming in with a comment here and there. But eventually we had to bid her goodbye, as she had another 'patient' come in. Snuggling up to him in the cab home, I didn't think it could get any better.
-:- Sherlock -:-
"John, Mycroft scheduled us for a visit to the OB/GYN today," I said, as I sipped my coffee, four days before the second full moon we'd spend together. "It's just a prenatal checkup," I added, hearing his heart rate increase. Mycroft had found us a very qualified obestetrician to handle my pregnancy. Apparently he was very discreet, and at a world class hospital in Essex. Coincidentally, it was a mere fifteen minute drive from my parents' house. I of course knew what he was driving at; we needed to tell Mum and Dad about us... and the baby.
"When is it?" John asked, as he stepped into the room, hair still slightly damp from his shower. His scent permeated the room, and I breathed it in, smiling.
"Mmmm... God you smell good," I murmured. His scent was clean and masculine; it never failed to please my wolf. Oh, he wants to know the time. "Our appointment is in five hours, but we need to be on the train in two." I looked at his outfit, a simple beige jumper, with a hint of his collared shirt peeking out, and jeans. Acceptable. "After our visit, we should probably go see my Mum and Dad, they live nearby, and insist we spend the weekend."
"Where do they live, again?" He asked, faking calmness. I knew he was nervous about taking that step in our relationship, irrationally worried about my parents not liking him. Oh John, as if they won't absolutely love the reason - the only reason - their son is alive. And of course you are the father of my child. They'll adore you.
"They live in Essex, about thirty miles from the hospital. Mycroft was subtly hinting that we should visit." I finished the rest of my coffee and put my mug in the sink. John seemed terrified, so I took him in my arms, and pressed my lips to his temple. "John, they'll love you. Even if it's just because I do."
"Alright, let's go! Time to meet your family!"
Four and a half hours later, we pulled up to the medical center in the car we rented. I carefully stepped out, adjusting my belstaff against the mid September chill. John took my hand in his, and made sure to lock the car. "Are you alright love?" He asked me, with a nervous smile. I nodded, myself a little bit anxious too.
As we approached the open doors, i caught a whiff of a scent I instinctively knew. I'd never smelt it as a Were, but I knew it all the same. It was Victor Trevor, my one-time best friend, whom I had lost my virginity to. I saw him escorting a petite blond towards the doors. I felt my heart accelerate, as I was faced with unknown emotions. I froze in the door, my eyes locked on his face.
"Victor. Vic!" I called, as he neared me. He was ten feet away, and pointedly ignoring me. I grabbed his arm, as he brushed past, and I frowned at him, his eyes still not meeting mine. "Trying to forget about me, Vic?" I asked, as my wolf paced. She was uncomfortable in my former lover's presence.
John tried to ask what was going on, but I heard nothing but the quiet voice of my friend, the friend who had abandoned me the instant I became a Were.
"Sherlock, I can't do this right now, please, not in front of my wife."
I snorted, shoving him away. His beard, he means.
"Vic what happened to you? I had no one to turn to after my bite. Mycroft was the only one left. You disappeared."
Victor straightened out his shirt, and looked up at me, his face impassive. "Sherly, you got bit." He said it as if it was enough. As if a single virus could ruin me completely. As if I was nothing more than the dirt on his shoes. He... He couldn't be that speciesist, could he?
I watched him walk away without a backwards glance, and tears fell down my face. I felt John gently wrap his arms around me and mutter, "What a wanker." Indeed, John.
We made our way to the doctors office in silence, John holding my hand tightly. I knew he wanted to know what was going on, and I would tell him. But I just didn't know how. My wolf was agitated, and I could tell that my eyes were flickering between gold and silver, from my extreme emotional stress.
John signed us in, and I took a seat I one of the large plush armchairs, idly picking up a book from the table next to me. Hmm. What to Expect When You're Expecting. Interesting. Flipping through it, I skimmed over the bold headers and cutesy illustrations. Obviously meant for women. I heard John sit I the chair next to me, and I put the book down.
"John..." I couldn't find the right words. "Victor was an old friend. We'd... We'd slept together, well, a lot, and when I got turned... He vanished." I couldn't explain what that felt like, to be abandoned like that. I just... hurt.
"Sherlock, I love you, and I know you are hurting over what he did. It's okay. He doesn't deserve you." John caressed my face tenderly, and I felt tears fall from my eyes again. God... How could I have gotten this perfect man as my mate? How could I deserve his love? He kissed my cheek, as the nurse called our names.
I was weighed and measured, after walked back with the nurse and she showed us to a room. John hardly let go of my hand, or waist, always offering quiet support. I clung to him like a life preserver, I needed him.
The doctor walked in, holding my chart, and introduced himself as Dr Jones. I shrugged off my misery and focused on why we were there. Our baby. "So, I was told that you are Weres." He said, taking a seat on his stool.
"Yes, sir," I said, looking him over. By my deductions, I knew he was trustworthy.
"And you are Sherlock?"
I nodded. Pointless questions.
"Yes, I am Sherlock, I'm an Omega Were, and this is my mate, John Watson. I'm pregnant with his child." I really wanted these preliminary questions over with, never understanding why some doctors felt the need to fact check everything in your chart. John squeezed my hand, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw his reassuring smile. I let go of the unwarranted tension, and just relaxed.
"Alrighty, do you know how far along you are?" Jones asked with a small smile. He probably reserved it for his hormonal patients. I was one of them, I realized.
"Almost exactly one month. I was going through my last heat when our condom broke." I looked at John who smiled back at me. "My heat ended that night, and I missed a period."
Jones's smile became less forced, as he asked me to remove my shirt. I did so, and he pulled out his stethoscope. The doc listened intently to my stomach, and I could tell he was listening to my baby's heartbeat. I sharpened my ears, wanting to hear it too. I heard John's, the same heart that I listened to as I fell asleep, Jones's, strong and steady, my own, and... My child's. God.
I turned to John whispering for him to listen. His eyes shimmered, as he used his wolf's hearing, and his mouth fell open. He heard it.
"Well, Mr Holmes, you certainly are pregnant. Congrats." Dr Jones said, grinning. "Let's get you an ultrasound, to make sure everything is okay, and then if it's all good, I'll see you in two months."
We followed him to another room, where I was told to roll down the waistband of my pants, and keep my shirt off. A young woman walked in, seemingly surprised by the fact that I am male, or that I look male. I shrugged, not caring about her judgement.
"Melanie this is Sherlock Holmes, and he needs an ultrasound of his child." Jones said, giving her a look that said, don't ask questions.
John and I both gasped in amazement as the grainy image of our child came into the small screen. It was nothing more than a small blur, but it was our small blur. I grasped my mates hand tightly, as tears fell from my eyes yet again. Our baby.
I cried for a fourth time, when we were given a disc of the ultrasound.
-:- Sherlock -:-
Half an hour after we left the hospital, John and I pulled into my parents driveway. I climbed out, and John followed me to the door, holding my hand. God I hoped she (my mother) wouldn't scream when we told her the good news. My poor ears were much too sensitive for that. I knocked on the door to the house, and wrapped an arm around John's waist.
Dad answered the door, with a kitchen towel over his shoulder, and a broad grin on his face. "Sherlock! This is quite the surprise! Mum's making her famous scones." He laughed as I asked if he was stuck on dish duty. "Always," he replied. "Who's this young man?"
"Dad," I said proudly, "this is John. My mate." I pulled said mate in close, kissing his cheek. "We have some news for you two."
That pleased my father to no end. He ushered us inside, shutting the door quietly. My father put a finger to his lips, telling us to be quiet and wait for his cue. I rolled my eyes, as I knew he was trying to surprise Mum with us. I put my belstaff on the hook hung on the shiplap wall, and hung John's over it. We leaned against said wall, and I absently placed a hand over my stomach, rubbing gently. John smiled softly at that, placing his hand over mine, and leaning his head on my shoulder.
Our cue came a moment later as my dad told Mum that they had some visitors.
John and I stepped around the corner into the kitchen, and Mum gasped, a radiant smile on her face. I grinned, giving the required hug, and thank God. She simply was crying instead of screaming. "Mum, this is my mate, John." I said, giving her another gentle hug, and murmuring, "It's alright, Mummy." She had been painfully aware her baby boy was - keyword being was - dying. And now she could probably tell from my radically improved health that I wasn't.
"John's the reason I'm not dying anymore." More happy tears. I shot a glance over her head to my father, asking, 'What the hell?' with my eyes.
He simply shrugged, mouthing, 'menopause'. Oh, poor Mum. I wondered when it would happen to me. I knew I'd go through some form of this when my ovaries run out.
"Mum, Dad, there's something else." I paused, as mum stopped crying finally, and dried her eyes on the corner of her apron. I looked at John, taking his hand and pulling him closer, so he could put his arm around my waist.
"I'm pregnant. It's John's."
-:- John -:-
Sherlock's parents weren't quite what I was expecting. They weren't exceedingly eccentric, or, well, too much of anything. Sherlock's father had large number of hobbies, and his mother was a retired mathematician. Apparently, she had given up her career to have a family. They were overjoyed to hear about the baby, and asked me a million questions.
"So, John, what do you do for a living?" Dad asked. In response to that, I grimaced. I explained how I had applied to every clinic and hospital in greater London, and none of them were willing to hire a Were. I currently was Sherlock's assistant as he solved crimes for the Met, but I wished I could be using the degree in medicine that I had. In the army, I was a highly skilled battlefield surgeon.
"What division were you in?" Mum asked, hearing that I was an army man.
"I was a captain and surgeon in the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers. I received an honourable discharge when I was turned on the field. I owe that wolf my life, it seemed to know I was dying and it could save me." I meant it, that I owed the creature who had completely prevented me from getting a job right now my life. The virus had healed me up nicely, and I can't even feel where the bullet was anymore.
"Would you be able to wear your uniform for your wedding? You two are getting married, I hope." Mum glared fiercely at me, as Sherlock choked on his tea.
"I think Sherlock was planning on having a simple handfasting with his pack and me. It was going to be during the next meeting, and..." Her glare intensified, and I hadn't seen such strong disapproval since I was in boot camp. Mrs Holmes could put my drill instructor's glare to shame.
Sherlock had explained to me that his family was a bit... Odd. And also that his mother would make the wedding a lot bigger than it needed to be, and he just wanted a simple ceremony, with as few people there as possible.
I carefully patted Sherlock's back, trying to help him clear the tea from his lungs, and tried to come up with a way to appease my mate's mum.
"Mummy, if Sherl doesn't want a big wedding, you can't force him to. Pastor Mark probably won't be able to make it anyways." Thank God for Mycroft. Truly.
Sherlock recovered from the shock of his mother's question just as Myc walked into the kitchen. He shot his brother an immensely grateful glance, as he picked up one of Mrs Holmes's scones. I was surprised they ( Sherlock and Mycroft's parents, I mean of course) hadn't started asking about baby names yet. But, alas, it couldn't have been more than five minutes of idle chatting with Myc before the baby questions started.
-:- Sherlock -:-
We finally managed to escape Mum and Dad's house on Monday, and I had never realized how much I loved our simple little flat, until I had spent a considerable amount of time away. I gratefully sank into my chair in front of the fireplace, and relaxed for a few minutes while the sun sank lower in the sky. Pretty soon John and I would be going to tonight's Pack meeting. Our first.
We made our way to the parking garage that served as my Pack's meeting place, just as the sun sank below the horizon. A large number of Weres were already there, I could tell. I had John and myself in low collared shirts, so that our Marks were clearly visible. I turned the collar of my coat down, and made sure my Mark was on display. We held hands as we entered the area, and I tightened my grip as I smelled James.
"Sherlock! Who's your friend?" A young Omega named Caroline asked with interest as we approached. She was always looking for her Alpha, and John's scent was very strong.
Suddenly I smelled James behind me, and I felt his hot breath on my neck. I cringed away, wheeling around to face my unwanted suitor. "Sherlock," he said in his slimy voice. "Glad you saw sense." His self satisfied grin made me want to vomit. I detested him, simply because he didn't know what the word no meant.
"I came to introduce the Pack to my mate. My true life-mate." I glared at him coldly, twisting my head to the side so he could see John's Mark. The rest of the Pack fell silent as soon as they saw that I had been Claimed.
James's face contorted in rage, and I felt John tense up beside me, preparing to fight him. I knew he had been ready for this, even though I had hoped to find a way to make James accept my Claimed status. "You're not his mate, Sherlock. You belong to me." He had never understood how much my wolf hates him.
"James, I know that it might be hard to understand, but I was never meant for you. I am not yours." My words only enraged James further. His eyes turned golden, and his fangs came out, as I held John tighter. I knew he had no claim to me, my heart nor my body. John already had both.
"James," Mark, the Alpha for the entire Pack admonished James. "Sherlock has been Claimed. You have no right to him." Mark turned to me, and asked if the Claim was willing on both sides. I replied that it was, and planted a kiss to John's lips.
James couldn't take it anymore, and wolfed out, launching himself at us. John pushed me out of the way, as he burst out of his clothes, going full wolf in the blink of an eye. The other members of the Pack scattered as the two wolves circled each other, growling.
I assumed that the police would arrive I less than ten minutes, with the volume of the growls coming from John and James.
"You'd better leave, Mark. Cops will be here in eight minutes." I told him as he stood at my side. I took off my coat, as Mark shook his head. John and James clashed, as Mark murmured that it was his job as Alpha to keep us safe.
I could clearly see that James was the lesser wolf. His wolf was even smaller than mine, and he didn't have the skill to match John's size. I flinched, though, as James attacked again, and managed to get his jaws around John's foreleg. The bone snapped as he brought the strength in his mouth to bear; I hoped it was a clean break.
John limped now, loud snarls coming from his throat, and I took off my clothes, preparing to take over the fight. My wolf was begging to help her mate, and I glanced at the Alpha. Mark nodded, and I shifted, just as the police arrived. My wolf glanced over to Mark and I saw him bring the paperwork for the meet to the officers, and explain.
We then took our place beside our mate, growling, with our teeth bared. James, torn and bloody, looked at us in confusion, and John took this momentary lapse to attack, pinning him down with his jaws around James's neck. We sighed in relief, nuzzling our mate.
John, with a loud snort, released my would be suitor's neck, and limped away, laying down on the asphalt, his injured leg stretched out awkwardly. My wolf allowed me to have control again, seeming to know my hands were of more use. I felt her worry as I knelt down, taking John's head into my lap.
"Love, I'm not exactly a vet..." I murmured, stroking his shaggy head. I tried to soothe his pain, and he weakly thumped his tail on the concrete. He whimpered, as I watched the officers put the now human James into the cruiser. I looked back to my mate, kissing his forehead, just between his large amber eyes.
"Erm... Sir?" The younger of the two policemen had my pile of clothes in his hands, and I nodded to him; he put the clothing on the ground next to me, and my belstaff around my shoulders. "They were fighting over you? Why?" The man asked.
I sighed, as John closed his eyes, twitching in pain. "This wolf here is my life-mate, his name is John. The other man, James, he thought I was his. I have never been his. So James attacked, and John defended me." I looked at my John, and wished I knew how to help him. The Werewolf virus can do many things, but setting a broken bone isn't one of them.
I kissed his muzzle as the officer wrote down my statement, and walked away. "Come back to me, my love. You're hurt, and I can't help you like this."
John whimpered, as he shifted human, and I let him cover himself with my coat, grateful he wasn't bleeding. "Well, this sucks. Hope we don't get arrested..." He muttered that as I quickly dressed, and I chuckled. Silly John. Nothing will happen to us.
"So, I understand that the man in my car attacked you two over a romantic dispute?" The older man asked, as we stood in front of him. He glanced at me, puzzled, and added, "Do I know you, sir?"
I laughed, and nodded, pulling my badge from the pocket of my coat, and showed him it. "I'm on the Met's payroll, gentlemen, I started out as an equality project, now I'm indispensable. Sherlock Holmes, special consultant."
They both grinned, as they realized that we were harmless. "They say that you're a genius, Mr Holmes." The younger officer seemed to be awestruck by the fact he was in my presence. I shrugged, neither confirming nor denying it.
They said we would be called if any issues arose, but otherwise we were just fine.
Mark gently vset John's broken arm, and my mate murmured a word of thanks to our Alpha, flexing his fingers as the bones healed rapidly. I also thanked him, and asked when the next meet would be, so that we could have our handfasting ceremony. I was glad I no longer had to deal with James's unwelcome advances, as the cops disappeared around the corner.
"We'll have the usual meet after the moon, and I'll prepare for the ceremony." I grinned, and took John's now healed hand in both of mine, giving it a kiss. "John, the position James had on the Council is yours if you want it, it's alright to refuse, I just thought you might not be aware of the customs."
"I think that I will refuse, there's probably a more qualified Alpha who would do better than me." John said, adding, "I think that I just want to be Sherlock's mate for now. Offer me the same position fifteen years from now, and you might get a different answer."
"I might. I'll see you after the moon, and bring your rings."
With a slightly cheerful farewell, John and I returned to Baker Street, to rest and recover before Wednesday's full moon.
-:- John -:-
The next full moon was easier for me to handle, and I only needed to rest for half a day afterwards. I let Sherlock sleep, and began to clean up the flat. Sherlock was exhausted, so I tried to be as silent as possible while I put the five different parenting books on the shelves; Sherlock had, in a moment of indecision, bought them all and only paused his reading to eat. Then I took the dirty dishes to the kitchen, seeing as my mate wouldn't.
I had already come to terms with the fact that my soon-to-be husband was completely untrainable in the fine art of picking up after oneself.
I shook my head as I carried his four empty mugs to the sink. What was I going to do with him? However, he was rather adorable. Sighing, I checked on him before doing the dishes.
He was still sound asleep, but somehow he had kicked off the duvet, tangled himself in the sheet, and stolen my pillow. I smiled softly, as he murmured my name, and cuddled the pillow closer. Yeah, Sherlock was definitely adorable.
I heard Mrs Hudson answer a knock on the door, but thought nothing of it, until I heard footsteps on the stairs. Who the fuck is visiting us, especially the day after the full moon? Greg knew better than to bother Sherlock on days like these, and Mycroft had visited before the moon, to check on us...
I answered the door before whomever it was woke up my mate. My wolf tensed up inside me, ready for a fight, but I didn't think that was necessary. I opened the door, and nearly swore in alarm.
How in the hell did my sister find us?
"Hey, bro." Harry said, tucking her short blond hair behind her ears. "I haven't heard from you since you got home... I was worried..." She gave a small little smile.
"I'm so sorry, Harry, come on in." I stood aside, and showed her where she could hang her coat. "Do you want some coffee, or tea?" I asked, as I pondered how to tell her what's happened since Afghanistan. Harry, I'm a Were. No, too blunt. I just...
I busied about, putting the kettle on, and pulling down a box of herbal. "John, whatever it is, you can tell me." I actually did swear this time, not having heard her come up. I looked at her as she leaned in the kitchen doorway. She looked good, and I noticed that her hands didn't shake like they used to. Harry grinned proudly, as she dug a chip out of her pocket. "One year, Johnny."
"God, Harry, that's great." I smiled, adding, "I've got some news too." I plunked the tea bags into the mugs, and poured the boiling water over them. Harry took hers, blowing on it as she sat down at the kitchen table. "Harry, I'm a Were." I stared into my tea, as she remained silent. Please, Harry, don't wake up Sherlock. He's so tired from his shift.
At long last, my sister broke the silence. "And?" She asked, taking a sip of her tea. "You're still my brother... You being a Were doesn't change anything." I sighed in relief, and was about to tell her about Sherlock, when I heard his light footsteps in the bedroom.
My mate walked out of the room, burritoed in the bedsheet, frowning at our guest with sleepy eyes. He then stole my tea, added a bit of sugar, and leaned against the worktop, taking small sips. "Hello." He blinked hard, and I could practically see the deductions and analyses running through his head. "You're John's sister?" He continued to drink my tea, as if this was perfectly fine behavior. "Fine, John. I'm Sherlock. Your brother and I are getting married on Friday."
"Sherlock!" I groaned, trying to think of a way to untangle this mess. "We're not actually getting married, Harry. It was a Were thing. We're life-mates." I could tell that Sherlock was in a 'let's tell everyone everything' mood, so I beat him to it. "And due to a complex bit of wolfishness and a failed condom, my wonderful mate here is pregnant."
Harry sipped her tea, and finally said, "Cool. Wish mum and dad could hear this. They'd be thrilled."
She was actually not perturbed by all of this, or at least seemingly so. I still felt like she was hiding something. Sherlock finished my tea, placing the mug in the sink, and going back to bed, leaving me alone with my sister.
We talked a bit about the Were thing, what it was like, and she told me how she'd met someone. Her name was Clara, and she'd gotten my alcoholic sister to quit drinking for good. I was so glad to hear that, knowing what Harry was like when she was drunk, and not liking her obnoxiousness. I hoped to God that she would stay sober this time.
"So, are you two really going to get married? Or is it not like that for you?" Harry asked, finishing her tea, and setting it to the side.
"Sherlock doesn't want a big wedding. A simple handfasting ceremony with his pack, and the mating licence from the government is enough for him. But we are in love." I grinned as I talked about my mate, and added, "For Weres, a life-mate is like a soulmate. They're the person who you are destined to be with."
"I'm happy to see that you're doing good, Johnny. I've got a dinner date with Clara, but we'll keep in touch, right?" She stood, her eyes hopeful. I reassured her, and gave her a hug, as she left.
After that, I gave up on cleaning the flat, going instead to our bedroom, and getting into bed. Sherlock woke up just enough to curl into my side, and murmur, "I like your sister."
"I'm glad." I kissed his mop of curls, and wrapped my arms around him. "Go to sleep, love. You need rest."
-:- Sherlock -:-
John and I walked to the jeweler's on Thursday, determined to find the perfect wedding bands. I held his arm tightly, as the attendant approached us with a smile. "Hello, how can I help you two gentlemen today?" She asked, glancing at our linked arms, and smiled knowingly. "Looking for wedding rings, I see. Right this way."
She led us to the furthest display, the display of men's jewelry. "What is your price range for both?" She asked.
"Up to a thousand." I answered. The attendant walked a ways down and brought back a tray of rings. I grimaced, shaking my head. "We can't do those... We're Weres."
"Maybe something non-traditional?" John suggested, and the girl nodded, walking into the back of the store. She came back with a different tray, filled with unique wedding bands.
"These are made from gunmetal or stainless steel. None are silver." She replied, smiling.
I was drawn to a pair of rings, one gunmetal with a small band of ebony in the middle, and a similar one, but with a band of light wood, and the metal was stainless steel.
"John , those two are perfect. The black one is yours, for my wolf, and the tan mine, for your wolf." He nodded, and kissed my cheek.
"Well, if you could try them on, we can get you a box." She pulled the rings from the tray, and added conspiratorially, "each one is only £225...”
I took John's ring from her, and it slipped into his right hand perfectly, as he tried the other ring on my left.
It was like they were made for us.
I handed the girl my bank card, as she rang up the sale, and gave John a small gift bag containing our rings. John was beaming, as he took my hand, and I hadn't been happier.
"So, today's the big day!"
I was visiting Mrs Hudson Friday afternoon, as John went to pick up his uniform from the cleaners, and a few other things that he needed while he was there. I sipped my tea, as Hudders fluttered about the kitchen.
"Today's the day, Hudders." I agreed, trying to control the irrational worry that something would go wrong tonight. I had been having terrible mood swings, and I hoped I wouldn't start crying, and be unable to say my part...
"Well, aren't you excited? You get to marry John!" She gushed, fussing over my curls, and I pulled away, grumbling.
"I've just got a case of nerves." I said, fixing my hair. I drank the rest of the tea, as John walked in, his garment bag over his arm, and a grocery bag in the other hand. He set them on the chair opposite mine, and pulled me against his chest, kissing the top of my head.
"I love you, you know that, right?" He murmured. His touch soothed the pre-wedding jitters, and I sighed, burying my face in his rough jumper.
"I know. I love you too... It's just me being hormonal. I've got pregnancy brain." I muttered. Everything will be fine. Nothing will go wrong.
"Let's go get ready, love."
-:- John -:-
We arrived at the dilapidated chapel in the abandoned cemetery that was the place where Sherlock and I were getting married. It was beautiful, I a tragically macabre sort of way. Thick vines of ivy climbed up the walls, and the large window in the back was missing, letting the just past full moon shine on the proceedings.
Hundreds of candles lit up the church, and cast their flickering glow on the assembled crowd. I waited at the altar for Sherlock, with our Alpha, Mark. My mate was apparently undergoing some sort of Omega ritual, all I was allowed to know is that I would enjoy it. Hmmm.
After what seemed like an hour, Sherlock appeared at the doorway, and I could smell his musky scent all the way down here. He had a crown of leaves in his hair, and a garland of them draped about his neck. I couldn't identify the plant, but whatever it was seemed to intensify his natural scent, and my wolf was very pleased with that.
He walked down the aisle towards me, clasping his hands I front of him, and smiling self-consciously at the pack as he passed. God, he was so beautiful, and just perfect. I was about to burst from happiness.
Sherlock took my hand as he arrived at the altar, and we faced the Alpha, holding our entwined hands at waist level I front of us. Sherlock was radiant, as he whispered, "I love you."
Mark stood in front of us, and began the ceremony. "Brothers and Sisters, we gather here to unify two of our own. Sherlock, our most unique Omega, has found at last his life-mate in John Watson, an Alpha of strength and honor. They have Claimed each other, as is the custom, now ask the Pack's blessing of their union." Mark, it seemed, had performed this ceremony many times, and I wondered if any had been rejected.
"What say you, my friends?"
As one, the Pack gave their consent, and I grinned at my mate, while mark wrapped a thin leather strap around our wrists, and doused our wrists with water from a basin in the moonlight. "What has been made cannot be unmade. You have forged a bond beneath the moon, and no wolf may come between you. Congratulations, my brothers." Mar
We exchanged the rings, finishing the ceremony, and Mark unwrapped our hands, and I pulled my new husband in for a kiss, much to our Pack's delight. I grabbed Sherlock's hand, and we walked back down the aisle, and into the next chapter of our life together.
Stay tuned for the sequel, Eclipse of the Moon.
It'll be up soon, and will cover from a few months before their cub is born, until their cubs (there will be multiple) are all grown up, with mates of their own...
P.S there's a Mystrade story in this universe, but that's probably going to be the last story I write in this series...
I'm open to suggestions, though, if anyone has any ideas...