Chapter Text
Who let them in?
You got me into this mess. So.
You get me out.
You get me out.
“John? John, are you alright?” Harry tapped John’s shoulder with a wooden spoon.
“Shit, watch it, that’s got sauce all over it, you know!” John jerked from her, moving his elbow to the top of the kitchen table.
“Ah, so it speaks.”
“Yes it does,” John mumbled, turning another page in his notebook. “I don’t know how anyone just expects med-students to preform practicals.”
Harry stirred beans over the stove, tsking, “Oi, you’re no med-student yet. Still not in Uni. Still a baby.” She smirked at John.
He rolled his eyes, “Whatever. I just- what is this even? Why would anyone need to know what a jejunum is?”
Harry shrugged, “Maybe you should ask that nerdy friend of yours. What’s his name again?”
“Sherlock. Come on, that’s a hard name to forget, Harry,” John smirked, “Anyway, I’m pretty sure I’d know the answer before I’d ask for his help. ‘Dissecting a cat? How childish. Seriously, John, I’d hope you’d focus on more interesting subjects by now.’”
“Weirdo,” Harry licked the spoon before tossing it into the sink, “Why do even talk to him?”
“Because I like him.”
“Ohh,” Harry ruffled John’s hair before he shooed her. She snickered, “Johnny’s got a crush.”
“I seriously don’t.” John closed his notebook and got up from the counter. “Stop being stupid.”
“Oh, look, you’re starting to sound like him too. Isn’t mirroring a sign of attraction?”
“Harry, seriously stop.”
“Wait, isn’t Sherlock the omega kid?” Harry’s quirked an eyebrow, “John. You haven’t-”
“Harry-” John’s wrist was tugged on before he could leave the kitchen. His sister’s eyes stared widely at him.
“You haven’t bonded with him, have you?”
John’s face heated up, “Of course not! I’m not even gay, though you keep trying to put me in that box.” He wriggled his hand from her grasp. “We’re just friends!”
Harry placed her palm on John’s forehead, “You’re warm. Johnny, don’t lie to me. You’ll get in serious shit if you two try anything like that. Or if he gets pregnant? Shit, mum and dad are going to murder you. And not in a way that that Sherlock bloke would figure out.”
John stared back at her, ignoring the sweat forming at his temples. He swallowed, “Harry, trust me.”
“You didn’t, did-”
“Please. We’re just friends. Okay?”
Harry closed her mouth. Their eyes stayed on each other. She removed her palm.
“Put your notes away and come down for dinner. Mum said she’ll be home by eleven again.”
*****
If I knew now.
What I knew then.
Just give me more time.
I hope and pray.
Sherlock was sulking on the couch by the time John got home from surgery.
“Sherlock?”
“Mm.”
“What are you doing?”
“Sulking.”
John took off his coat and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. “Why?”
“Body hasn’t come in yet.”
John collected two cups. “Pity.”
“Hmmm.”
John walked back into the living room, “Do you want to talk?”
“No.”
“I-”
Sherlock sighed loudly and flopped, turning his head towards John, “You once told me it was all fine.”
“It is! But-”
“But you don’t approve.” The street light poured through the blinds, illuminating the grey eyes staring at John.
“Sherlock, I was the one who suggested we both go on suppressants. It’s the safest option if we’re going to live together.”
“Please, don’t attempt lying to me, John. You should know by now it has a minimal chance of ever succeeding. Scratch that- it has zero chance.”
There was a loud ding from the kitchen. John blinked, “It is the best option.”
“No, it’s a blanket. You’re clearly disappointed at the fact that we will never be as physically intimate as you would hope- especially since we already fit such perfect roles- the level-headed, but sympathetic alpha with the omega brainiac. You’re in love with me and wish to show that through the highest level of affection you can offer, and what society has insinuated is necessary. You wish to bond, but knowing that it will never be a possibility, you suggested that we both take suppressants to hide the rather apparent elephant in the room.”
Silence. Sherlock turned his head towards the blinds, steepling his fingers under his chin.
“Sherlock.”
“John.”
John swallowed, “I reacted badly. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a rare occurrence. Look at the world around you. Omegas and alphas are expected to mate- it is in our design, in our smell. The lackluster series of occupations people fill their lives with daily- it’s irrelevant. Which is why I refuse to conform to it.”
“So… what now then? If you’ve pointed all of this out already.” John opened and closed his hands. He could feel the sweat building in his palms.
Sherlock looked back at him, “I am a man of science, not extrasensory applications.”
John licks his lips nervously. “Please.”
“You’re nervous. Why?”
John stepped in front of the couch and knelt in front of Sherlock. He held out his hand, and Sherlock took it, gaze unmoved.
“What I said before, I meant it. It’s all fine.”
Sherlock watched him carefully before letting the ends of his mouth slowly curl up.
“I think the tea’s ready.”
*****
If I’m not there.
Physically.
I’m always there before you.
Come what may.
“Lestrade, do you know where William is now?” Sherlock stood up from the body and slid his gloves off.
“William, why him?” Lestrade lifted an eyebrow.
“He’s obviously the murderer. Look at the pattern of fingers cauterized, and the scars left across the lymph nodes under her chin. Symmetrical with the surgery scars on his profile. The fingers alternate with the rings on his finger. It’s clear from the interview you conducted- his posture, the manner in which he described her, using the phrase ‘other half’ in each description of her, rubbing his rings subconsciously as he glanced up and away to recall her memories. He was obsessed with his step sister- forming a cage around her from the moment their families merged. Files I discovered contained complains from his service in the military of his refusal to take medication to suppress heats- causing him a dishonorable discharge after falling into a heat while on leave. It’s easy to know what really happened. He found something to overstimulate his sister’s hormones in a similar form as her suppressant medication, and caused her to bond with him while under the influence. Look at the marks on her. They’re fresh. She clearly isn’t. John, when was the time of death?”
John cleared his throat from his spot next to the corpse, “About a day ago exactly.”
Sherlock smiled wildly, “A day ago! She committed suicide- clearly unable to endure the memory any longer. But she didn’t die immediately. She must have been unconscious long enough for her flat mate to panic and call a relative for help. She didn’t call the ambulance, an odd and fatal mistake on her part-”
“Hold on, Sherlock, there was no mention of a flat mate-” Lestrade started.
“- Friend then, it doesn’t make any difference now! When William arrived, he immediately disposed of his sister’s company- most likely through suffocation and kidnapping after he made his marks of affection on his sister. The flat mate’s body is most likely floating in the Thames now. He’s clearly an idiot ruled by his emotions- he wouldn’t have been able to rid the body elaborately with the rush he’d receive from commemorating his ‘lover’. Send men to his apartment right away- he’ll plan to escape the city in an hour or so.”
“Jesus,” John breathed as they left the crime scene and a Lestrade shouting frantically into this mobile.
“I know, what a moronic case. Lestrade must be testing my patience. Or it’s Mycroft. Messing with me through my handler.” Sherlock huffed as he pounded a fist on the cab window.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Mm. Well. Chinese?”
“I don’t think I really have the stomach for it at the moment.”
“Obviously a yes then.”
John looked out the window. He couldn’t control the smile forming, muttering “Always obvious. Always simple.”