Omega Refuge

Chapter 1 - Arrival

BBC sherlock fanfiction, no copyright infringement intended.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Warnings: Slash, Omegaverse, Angst, Child death

John Watson looked at the oh-so-tasteful copperplate lettering of the sign outside the Victorian building. Just the signs with its pastel purples and pinks made him feel sick.

Omega Refuge

But he'd fucked up his medication, and since then the cascade of events had led him to be disgraced, unwanted, and homeless.

He should really be grateful that Omega Support Network had managed to find him a bed to stay, where the cause of all the misery growing in his belly would be born and passed on to a suitable pair of loving beta parents.

Omega Refuges existed as a safe place for unbonded pregnant omegas to stay until they gave birth and the baby was adopted out to the increasing numbers of infertile betas. The trend in beta infertility over the past 50 years had led to abortion being illegal. John supposed he could have had an illegal one, but being outed as an omega, and a knocked up one at that had already caused an end to his military career. Despite his years of service, he had been dishonourably discharged, with no pension and homeless.

Harry had hit the roof when she'd found out, that he'd been dumb enough to get knocked up without being bonded. He suspected it was more jealousy that she and her bonded beta Clara hadn't yet been able to conceive, and after a few months of living with her he'd called the Omega Support Network.

Wearily he limped up the stairs to the building, and held down the intercom buzzer. "John Watson..." he said and the auto locked door was open, and a rather matronly omega was walking up the corridor.

"Mr. Watson." She smiled at him, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Dr..." He corrected, tensely shaking her hand back.

"Ah, Dr. Watson." She smiled politely at him. "I'm Ms. Collins. So glad we could help you out in your time of need."

John resisted the urge to sigh; he really hated the flowery, hippy language that got attached to omega culture. Lots of claptrap talking about opening chakras and feeling the way of the omega inner birth goddess. Three months of this bullshit. He kept his smile polite, none the less.

"Let me show you to your room." Ms. Collins said to him, taking his duffle bag without taking heed of his reluctance and showed him down the hall.

They passed an open communal area that faced out onto the gardens, with high ceiling windows and alcoves.

The whole house seemed strangely quiet and he was almost relieved to see another omega sitting in the common area, lying on a leather sofa with his feet up, one hand resting absently on his swollen belly. His other hand held a cigarette between his fingers, as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Sherlock, what have I told you about smoking indoors!" Ms. Collin scolded.

"I'm thinking..." came the deep baritone voice, and he brought the cigarette to his lips to take an inhale.

Incensed, Ms. Collins stomped over to the reclining man and snatched the cigarette from his fingers. She looked around for somewhere to dispose of it, before settling on the cup of tea on the coffee table where it fizzled out and ruined what was left of the tea at the same time.

"If only you'd think about the precious baby of yours, and of the other babies in this sanctuary," she chided, placing her hands on her hips.

Sherlock moved his eyes over her, then they settled on John. The doctor felt uncomfortable being under the other man's stare; it was almost as if he was reading him. "Hmm..." The omega made a sound from his throat, before refocusing on Ms. Collins who was still hovering over him. "The bastard children." She was about to open her mouth to chide him again but he cut her off. "Do you honestly not regret giving up your own unbonded baby, Ms. Collins?"

Something about the woman's demeanour changed, and her lips pressed together in hesitation. "That's..." She began, but the younger man cut her off.

"25 years ago now, that nice alpha girl from down the street. Didn't she promise you to be together forever? Didn't that first heat feel so wonderful, you thought you were going to be so happy together, that little happy family." He snorted, lips twisting cruelly. "But she dumped you, didn't she."

There was a tense moment before Ms. Collins responded. "No smoking inside the building Mr. Holmes," she said briskly, before turning on her heel.

John glanced between her and the pregnant omega, his eyes catching the cool grey ones that were studying him now. He pulled away, quickening his step to catch up with Ms. Collins.

oOo

Years in the army and bad dreams meant that John always woke early. He lay there in his single lavender room, waiting for signs of dawn to creep under the curtains.

John had been at the refuge for a week and it was terribly dull and depressing. Pregnant omegas lazed around waiting for their bellies to grow, until the day they disappeared to the hospital, never to be seen again.

There were various activities; anti-natal classes, yoga, group counselling where they sat around in a circle and convinced themselves that giving up their babies was the best thing to do. John couldn't help but notice he was one of the oldest omegas there, like he should have known better at his age. It was embarrassing and he felt like he had little in common with the young, inexperienced omegas. He had been to medical school, had a career in the army, until he fucked up by not taking enough heat suppressants with him on a routine mission to an outpost in the more volatile regions.

It was supposed to be only an overnight stay, but their return route became an insurgent hot spot and they found their logistics routes cut off. Not even a heli could get through. Within a week he had gone into heat; it was obvious to everyone and Murray had `helped him out`.

The rest was history. That now resided in his stomach, as he ran a hand over the stretched fabric of his jumper. John sighed, yeah his baby was a fuck up but as time progressed and omega hormones flooded his system, the more he wanted to make sure this baby had the best chance. That meant giving it to a pair of loving Beta parents, his logic told him.

John looked at the steadily ticking beside clock. 7am time for breakfast. He dressed and went down to the dining hall, where the usual breakfast selection of toast and cereal was available. It was worse than the army; in the army at least there was a fry up available most days.

He waited for some toast to pop up from the industrial sized toaster and took it on a tray, with some blackcurrant jam to an unoccupied table. Most of the other omegas would form small groups and sit together, but John didn't really know anyone so well.

John treated himself to an extra thick layer of jam on his toast, and munching through it methodically until he was startled by someone taking the place opposite him. It was the omega he had met when he had first arrived, Sherlock.

He had only occasionally seen him at the mandatory activities and sessions. When he did deign to make an appearance he was snide and condescending over the tasks, making disparaging remarks about any of the staff who tried to herd him. Overall, Sherlock Holmes had a bit of a reputation about the refuge of being an arsehole and best avoided. Now though this pregnant omega was trying to fit his belly under the table with just a lone cup of tea in front of him and staring at him.

John was not intimidated and his doctor's instincts kicked in."You should really have more than a cup of tea for breakfast you know," he said in disapproval.

"It's decaf. It hardly counts as tea," Sherlock shot back, eyes narrowing slightly as he took a sip from the steaming mug.

John ignored him, picking up another slice of toast, trying not to let the thick jam drip off as he manoeuvred it to his mouth..

The other omega wasn't done. "So, you're a doctor."

That made John stop toast midway to his mouth, and a lump of jam dropped onto his plate. "How did you know?" He asked.

"I heard you correct Ms. Collins." Her name was said with some disdain. "When you arrived."

"Oh..." John said, a little relieved.

"But an omega army doctor, now that is unusual!" Sherlock said with a smirk.

John dropped his toast onto his plate. "How did..?"

Sherlock was already waving him off. "I observed that from your stance, hair cut, faded tan lines..." He said this as if it was as obvious as John's rounded stomach, to which he gestured. "Dishonourably discharged I see."

John's appetite was suddenly gone, despite blackcurrant being his favourite. "Yes."

Sherlock hummed before appearing to lose interest in the matter. His piercing eyes honed in on one of the tables across the dining room. "Do you see Sally?"

John glanced over his shoulder, then slowly back at Sherlock. "Yes..."

Sherlock still had his eyes trained on her, "She's having second thoughts about giving up her baby for adoption."

John gave him an incredulous look. "She hasn't said anything in counselling..."

Sherlock rolled his eyes."Why would she? Anyone who expresses doubt is oh-so-gently reminded what a burden unbonded omega status would be, as a single omega struggling to raise a child alone, with the added shame to themselves and their child..."

John blinked slowly, gazing down for a moment at his own engorged stomach pressing against the table. "Right..." he replied tensely.

Sherlock didn't seem to notice John's discomfort. "In your medical opinion, does Sally seem well in both mind and body?"

John was caught off guard with that question. He tried to think of the little he had seen of Sally around the home and during their shared activities. "As far as I know, yes," he managed.

Sherlock hummed over his tea again, eyes still on the heavily pregnant Sally. Without a thank you or goodbye, he drained the cup, Somehow still managing some grace he twisted out the chair, leaving the dining room and the mug for John to presumably clear away.

oOo

John had forced himself to go to omega yoga. He told himself that it would relax him, free up his aching joints. Most of the omegas in the refuge were there his surprise, Sherlock was too. It could be his imagination but, since their talk in the dining room two days ago, Sherlock had attended nearly every activity the refuge offered, although he complained and whinged through everything. Yesterdays' counselling had left several pregnant omegas in tears.

He tried to tune out the teacher's talk of opening chakras, but that was made difficult by Sherlock's loud groans of "moronic..." and "and where's the evidence for these chakras!" from the back of the activity room.

By the time they had moved onto light stretching, the yoga teacher was red-faced. Sherlock had given up and was lying on his yoga mat, saying he felt he had pushed himself to his physical limits and needed to spend the rest of the lesson in dead man's pose, meditating.

John looked more than a little enviously at the prostrate man, who had a hand on his stomach, fingers drumming a light rhythm. The teacher continued to drone on as she talked them through the poses and of moving their Omega energies to their loins. He couldn't take this new age shit any more and he straightened up apologetically. "Sorry, need the loo," he said in a low voice to the teacher and tried to slink out around the yoga mats as unobtrusively as possible. As he passed Sherlock towards the back, their eyes locked and they shared the pain of Omega Yoga for a brief second.

"I need a cigarette," Sherlock announced and rolled himself up to join John in putting on their shoes. With their backs to the teacher, they shared a grin and pushed through the door. John instantly let out a relieved sigh.

"As expected, utter clap trap," Sherlock said, eyes scanning the corridor for exits.

"Why did you come then?" John asked.

"Why did you come?" Sherlock answered back and picked the way to go outside.

"Yoga is said to be beneficial for prenatal health..." John said, matter of fact, following as quickly as he could after Sherlock to escape from the refuge.

He let out a breath when the fresh air hit his face but noticed Sherlock was moving off again around the ornate garden. Sherlock was further gone than he was; John was slightly amazed at how quickly he could move. It was a secluded spot in the corner with a bench, where Sherlock flopped down and seemed to find some kind of relief.

"Backache?" John asked, easing himself down a bit more gently. Sherlock nodded and John smiled back in sympathy. "It's a bitch. How far along are you?"

Sherlock seemed to tense a bit as he said, "34 weeks."

"About another 6 weeks to go then..." until Sherlock gave up his baby. Man, there really wasn't any safe topics to talk about was there.

Sherlock seemed to let go of his tension though and shrugged. "Could be less."

"Or more. Babies are not known for their punctuality..." Maybe Sherlock was really just keen to have the baby and move on with his life.

Sherlock seemed to grow serious. "Sally is nearly due and she wants to keep the baby," he announced.

"Oh..." John said surprised, trying not to let his own hand go down to his stomach. "Well, that's quite...natural, and her legal right."

Sherlock nodded. "Hormones flooding the system, urging the omega to bond with their child. Not completing the bond after birth is said to be most distressing to the omega. 23% of Omegas back out of the adoption process in the two months prior to childbirth." The dark-haired man said this as if he was reading out of a text book.

John finally looked at Sherlock, trying to study his face for emotion. "Don't you feel it? The bond?"

A low chuckle emanated from Sherlock's throat. "Haven't you heard? I'm a sociopath."

John frowned, "A sociopath? Really?" He wasn't so convinced.

"How about you? Second thoughts?" Sherlock asked, his head turned to John as if to gauge his reactions.

John hesitated. There that was the reaction Sherlock was looking for. "No," He managed to say out but he'd already given himself away. The closer it got to the day he'd have to hand over his baby, the bigger the pain in his heart grew. He'd started entertaining fantasies about being a single father, damning the stigma he'd get and any chance he had of finding a bond mate.

He knew these feelings would come; it was biology and he prepared himself for them. Or so he thought. Biology chose that moment to give him another kick, quite literally. He felt the fluttering within his belly and automatically covered his hand with the sensation. "She's kicking," he explained to the man next to him.

Sherlock looked either surprised or alarmed."What does it feel like?" He peered closely at John's belly as if there was an alien life form in there.

John ran his hand over his sizeable belly, smoothing his jumper over it. "Like someone's flicking me with their finger from the inside...it gets stronger." He frowned at Sherlock. "Doesn't your baby move?" he asked. Sherlock shook his head. John's frown grew in concern, "Is everything OK? Have you been going to prenatal checkups?"

Sherlock noticed John's worry and shook his head. "Yes, everything is normal. It doesn't move much is all."

John tried to push his medical worry aside. Maybe this was Sherlock's way of coping with the adoption process, distancing himself. He seemed interested in John's own bump.

"You can touch if you want." He held his hand out for Sherlock, who cautiously let John take his larger hand and place on the right spot of his stomach in time with a nice kick.

Sherlock pulled his hand back in surprise and let out a soft "Oh..." before cupping his hand back over the spot to feel light movement there.

John was bemused at Sherlock's reaction. "She's been getting stronger...quite annoying when I want to sleep."

Sherlock was still touching and staring at the spot. "It must be boring in there...ah, she's tired now," Sherlock said, moving his hand over John's belly and placing his other next to it, trying to feel for more. "She's turned over to go to sleep."

The sensations had slowed and got gentler, but John laughed. "You're guessing."

Sherlock could barely restrain his smirk. "I do not guess, I deduce." The movement had completely stopped now and, as if embarrassed that he was manhandling John's bump, he tried to regain his composure. "That was...informative. Thank you, John."

John shrugged. "Happens all the time."

Sherlock pushed himself off the bench and crouched down a few meters away from John to sit on the grass, where he fished out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

The doctor gave him a very disapproving look. "You really shouldn't smoke, as you know."

"I know," Sherlock said, lighting a cigarette anyway, leaning back on his hands to let his jacket fall open across his own big belly.

Sherlock's lack of concern or awareness of his own body and baby was...unusual. Maybe that's why people said he was a sociopath? John was certain by now that was wrong. He closed his eyes to enjoy the open air and spring sun on his own skin.

oOo

It had been a rather tense group counselling session. Sherlock seemed intent on picking apart Sally's logic for giving her baby up for adoption, to the point where she had snapped, called him a "freak!" and stormed out of the room. Ms Collins had arrived and asked to see Sherlock, who had never returned back to the session. John was probably the only person who could stand Sherlock's company, and had covered his face in second-hand embarrassment throughout the whole incident.

The session had meandered along after that. Everyone was grateful to get out of their chairs and shuffle out to the common room.

Ms. Collin's had been hovering by the door and she caught his eye as he passed. "John may I speak to you," she asked in that overly soft voice of hers.

"Ok..." John agreed and she led him to her office on the 2nd floor. It was a welcoming space; a large abstract oil painting hung behind her desk, which was probably supposed to symbolise the omega birth energies and capacity of life, John mused.

She helped him down into the chair before making him a cup of tea and leaving it on the desk. "Now John. While it is really good to see you socialising with other omegas here, none of you have bond mates and the support we can offer each other is invaluable in giving your baby the best start in life."

Ms Collins looked uncomfortable from her side of the desk."However I've really got to question the wisdom of your association with Sherlock Holmes."

John was taken aback. It really wasn't any of her concern as to who he associated with. "Um, really?"

She looked hesitant. "Sherlock has a lot of...issues. I really shouldn't say this but he was referred to the Omega support network after a stint in rehab." She clasped her hands in on top of the desk. "His child was not conceived in the best of circumstances as you can imagine and, while he has made the best decision to give his baby to a loving stable home, his attitude and manner is quite..." The older omega looked for the best word. "Poisonous. He hasn't been trying to convince you not to give up your baby for adoption?" she asked.

John wasn't sure how to respond to that. He had suspected that Sherlock had been bred in less than stellar circumstances and the drugs were not surprising. "Um no," he finally managed. "He's not trying to persuade me of anything."

Mrs. Collins looked relieved, and stood up to go around the desk. She placed an uninvited hand on John's stomach. "Good, because you know in your heart that adoption is the best thing for you and your baby."

John gave her a tense smile. "I am well aware of that." But it's my fucking choice. He was liking her less and less.

oOo

John was dreaming of starry deserts and tanned Afghan children when he was jolted back to England and reality by a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. He batted away the hand in shock and tried to scrabble away, only to realise it was Sherlock Holmes in a dressing gown and tatty old pyjamas. He was using his phone to illuminate his face, and he looked like some kind of ghost. John looked at the bedside clock, barely making out the hands that said it was quarter past three in the morning.

"Jesus Christ Sherlock!" John said, rubbing his face. "You nearly frightened me to death!"

Sherlock didn't apologise. "We need to break into Ms. Collins' office while the night worker has been called away by a family emergency, which will turn out to be false."

John squinted up at the taller man. "What?"

"Well, you don't need to break in, but I need you to be a look out."

"No!" This was absolutely barking, John was not going along with a Sherlock Holmes scheme when he could be sleeping. To make his point, he rolled over with his back to Sherlock.

He felt a depression on the bed behind him. Sherlock's voice was much softer now, "I know what has been said about me, but you need to trust me that there is something afoot in this refuge, and it is imperative that I discover what it is."

John had never heard Sherlock sound so serious. He rolled himself back over and up to look the other man in the face, his expression as grave as his voice. "Well, what is it?"

"I can't explain that, just please believe me it is of the utmost importance, for yourself more so than me. Just trust me, my actions are not intended to hurt you..." his eyes flicked down to the where their stomachs nearly touched. "Or your baby. Quite the opposite."

John studied Sherlock's face some more before nodding. "Ok, I'll trust you." God help him...

The dim light from Sherlock's phone illuminated a grin and he helped pull John up off the bed. "Excellent," he said, picking up the dressing gown off the chair and helping John into it. "I estimate we have 25 minutes before the miscommunication is discovered and the staff member arrives back."

The lights were out in the refuge but Sherlock had no problem navigating the darkened corridors quietly. Impatient with John's slowness, Sherlock grabbed his hand to pull him along. "Don't rush me!" he hissed lowly at Sherlock. How the fuck could he move so swiftly? John was nearly a month further from his due date than Sherlock, and he practically waddled about the place.

Thankfully, Sherlock let John take his time on the stairs and they were soon outside Ms. Collin's locked office. Sherlock thrust his phone at John to hold, and pulled out a set of lock picks from his dressing gown. "Keep an eye out," he told John as he crouched down to start working on the lock.

It clicked open and Sherlock pulled John in flicking the light on to the office. He arranged the door so it was open a crack and positioned John at it. "If you see car headlights tell me, likewise if any of the omegas come," he directed.

"Can you get me a chair?" John asked. Sherlock looked irritated before giving in and pulling up a chair from the desk. John let out a sigh of relief before starting his job as look-out.

Sherlock had meanwhile started up the desktop computer up, and started going through the desk drawers.

"What exactly are you looking for?" John asked from the chair.

"Evidence," Sherlock replied, going through a file of records.

John waited for more of an explanation, but none was forthcoming. "Of what?" he asked again.

"Something quite sinister and evil," was all Sherlock replied, abandoning the file on the desk and going another set of file drawers.

That seemed to be all Sherlock was offering at this time; John resisted rolling his eyes.

Fifteen minutes passed and there had been no sign of anyone or a car. John had a rather pressing problem however. "Are you done?"

Sherlock was now on the computer, transferring things to a USB stick. "No," he said, engrossed in his file hunting.

"I just...need to pee, Sherlock." John told him, the urgency of the matter growing quickly.

Sherlock gave him a confused look. "What?"

"I need to pee, like, right now!" John tried to tell him.

"But if you pee then who will be look-out, it's unacceptable, John." Sherlock told him before trying to turn his attention back to the computer.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I am up-the-bloody-duff and a baby pressing on my bladder doesn't care if it's acceptable or not," John said, temper rising. "Fucks sake, it's like I'm talking with someone who doesn't know what it's like."

Sherlock's face was blank. "Fine then, go."

Annoyed, John managed to push himself up out the chair but as he looked out the crack of the door he saw car headlights flash up the drive. "Shit, Sherlock. Car's back."

Sherlock cursed and ripping the USB drive out of the desktop, and stuffing a few papers into his pocket. They did what they could to arrange things backs as they were and quickly left the office, letting the door lock again behind them. "Toilets!" Sherlock whispered, taking John's hand again to not leave him behind.

The toilets were by the side entrance staff used but, providing they could get in there in time, once the staff member was back in the main office for the night they could probably slip back upstairs unnoticed.

Sherlock pulled John into the single toilet and, quietly as possible, closed the door behind them. John was sweating and out of breath from the exertion and the fear of being caught doing something more than a bit not good.

Unexpectedly, Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's shoulders from the side as best he could do without their bellies getting in the way. "Shhh..." he said into John's ear quietly, and letting his head drift down on top of John's shoulder.

The doctor could feel a steadier heartbeat than his own and tried to get his breathing in time with Sherlock's slower pace.

They heard the side door open and Claire, the night worker, arrive back. Sherlock's arms tightened around John; his hand stroked the back of John's head pressing his face into the crook of his neck. They stayed like that, quiet and calm, until they heard the footsteps go and even then lingered more than necessary. John felt protected and safe, like something in him had been missing something that this simple contact had reminded him of.

It was Sherlock that came to his senses first, and he slowly pulled away, a hand slowly slipping over John's round belly under his dressing gown before taking a step back. "It should be ok now."

John felt like crying at that loss of contact, and he fought back tears. It was just the hormones and the stress of the past 6 months. "I really do need to pee still," he said, trying to distract himself from his emotions.

Sherlock nodded, backing away slowly towards the door. "I'll go first." He was hesitating with a hand on the handle. "You'll be ok?"

"I think I can just about manage a pee and the stairs." John told him dryly.

Sherlock nodded and, looking rather shell shocked himself, opened the door to quietly slip out from the toilets.

Get a hold of yourself, John told himself and went to relieve his bladder before he had the indignity of pissing himself. He managed to get back up to his room and it was only when he was lying in bed, replaying that moment of contact over and over again, that he realised there was something odd about the memory. Sherlock didn't smell like a pregnant omega, or an omega for that fact. It was so...neutral, like someone who used neutralising body scrubs rigorously. When John was pressed so close to Sherlock's neck, though there was something underlying that was not missed by the omega parts of his brain.

Author notes: Bare with me with the plot in this omegaverse (what was I thinking), things are gonna get messed up but there will be porn. Much love to my betas. Really curious about what people think so comments most appreciated!