A/N: Hello peoples! Sequel just like asked! Okay so here it is, this isn't the same style as the first one, this one I intend to get more in depth with so the style is reflecting that. I wanted to spend more time on this than I did the other, which sped through mainly because I wanted it out of my head this one though I want to put effort into and make you all proud. If you haven't, read the prequel "To Love You" or you will get confused. OH before I forget I'm mean to Sally in this chapter, but its for a purpose and also because I have wanted Lestrade to tell her off for a long time.

This is Omega verse, Johnlock, Mpreg, OoC, and more than slightly descriptive on some things hence the rating.

Disclaimer I do not own BBC Sherlock if I did the show wouldn't be nearly as awesome.

ALSO: I make no promises on updates I am notoriously unreliable, the quick pace of the last one was an insane fluke so don't hold your breath. I will try to update semi-regularly but again I can't promise.

Love you all so much!

Chapter 1

Morning sickness, money problems, and parents(?)

Sherlock was getting tired of the burn in his throat, as he threw up for the third time that day. John as always was beside him rubbing his back and wiping his face with a damp paper towel. Sherlock spit into the toilet a last time and flushed putting the lid down, he had realized quite quickly that the sight of his own vomit spinning in the water as it was flushed down made him sick again. He leaned back resting himself against John. They were currently in a public bathroom and not at Baker Street, because Lestrade had requested that he examine another crime scene. Sherlock who had been horribly bored had agreed. When they arrived in the alley the first smell to turn his stomach was stale urine, then came the blood and decomposition, the unfortunate final nail was not the crime scene but Donovan's perfume. The moment it hit his nose, Sherlock was running the opposite direction to the nearest public restroom. John had been right on his heel and had taken the time lock the door before supporting Sherlock.

Two weeks since he learned he was pregnant and he was beginning to believe that he was going to memorize his bathroom walls, if he wasn't getting sick he was peeing. Sherlock huffed and began to stand when john put a hand on his shoulder, "any idea what caused it this time," he asked. "perfume, Donavan was wearing Perfume," Sherlock said, "the smells from the alley where not helping either, however her perfume set it off." Sherlock felt john shift against his back, "want me to say anything," he asked. Sherlock shook his head, "I want to go home. have Lestrade give me photo's, I'll do what I can from those." Sherlock looked up from his half kneeling position to see John nod. John looked down at him as smiled running a warm hand through his hair for a moment before he help Sherlock off the floor and out of the bathroom. "wait for me?" John asked with a soft smile. Sherlock nodded motioning to the yellow tape.

Sherlock headed for the tape as John made his way over to Lestrade. Sherlock had just slipped under to the other side of the crime scene when the smell of perfume wafted over to him. Sherlock clamped a hand over his nose and mouth hoping to stem the waves of nausea, he had nothing left to expel. "Oi, freak," Donavan called, "you like what you saw in there," he looked at her in time to see her motion to the alley. "why are you covering your face? Trying not show off that nasty grin for what you saw." Sherlock was startled, she was being unusually harsh. He was having a hard time holding his breath, he was actually beginning to get dizzy. He pulled his hand away to take a breath and make a quick reply, when John appeared behind her. "leave it, Donavan" the shorter man said. "or what?" she snapped, "I'm tired of the freak running around getting his rocks off on our crime scenes." Sherlock breath hitched in his throat and the smell of her cheep perfume bounced in his head. John was about to snap back when he caught sight of Sherlock's face, it must have been very pail for john to look that worried, Sherlock thought as he felt the nausea coil into tight ball in his gut waiting for one last trigger to let loose. John was at his side and was about to steer him away from the area all together except Sherlock's eyes landed on the one of the bodies as it was being zipped into the black body bag, and it was too late. Sherlock turned away hand clasped to his mouth again a he rushed to the nearest wall for support as stomach acid weld up and out. "Ewe Freak!" Donavan called after him. "Shut it Bitch he's pregnant!" John snapped from a ways behind Sherlock.

They had not moved to far from the tape so they heard when Lestrade came over to Donavan and what he said. Sherlock was sure he would cherish the memory for a good long time before it got deleted as useless. "Donavan!" Lestrade yelled, "you have no right to act like that to him! For gods sake you constantly bad mouth him as being rude and uncaring, but what I just heard from you was the worst thing I have heard anyone say to another human being, not even Sherlock is that horrible! If I even think you're being rude or hurtful to anyone either a fellow officer, a victim, witness, or Sherlock I will have your badge by the end of the day do you hear me." "but sir," she cried, Sherlock looked over to see her abject horror. "you can't honestly believe he's pregnant!" "yes I can," Lestrade snapped "maybe I should have you take sex ed again, as you so obviously missed a good part of it." Sherlock would have laughed at the look of mortification on the Beta's face if not for the fact he wasn't sure he'd be sick again if he did. "you will apologize to him, when I believe you're actually sorry for what you did, until then you're on desk duty." at that Sherlock did chuckle and almost regretted it He gagged but nothing came up.

Sherlock sagged against the wall, John took one look at him and went to hail a cab. Lestrade took his place, "bad?" he asked. Sherlock nodded and closed his eyes weary. "It'll get better, try eating small meals instead of full meals you're not digesting as quickly as you used to, motion sickness bands can help too," Lestrade said calmly. Sherlock not willing to talk yet nodded his thanks at the advice. John ran back and help Sherlock to the cab.

Sherlock rested his head against Johns shoulder, he was tired and his stomach empty, all he wanted to do was eat, brush his teeth, and sleep. John seemed to read it in his body language because when they got back to 221 B john had Sherlock lay on the couch while he made a broth soup. Sherlock drank it gratefully reveling in the feel of the warm chicken flavored broth as it went down his esophagus and into his stomach. Heeding Lestrade's advice he turned down another bowl and went to brush his teeth and use the toilet before sliding under the warm covers. It was late after noon but Sherlock was far to tired to care, so he slipped into sleep.

(JH)

John watched Sherlock sleep, he smiled at the soft snoring and occasional huff of breath. John still felt himself reeling occasionally with the realization that he loved this man, that he had always loved this man. The more he thought about it, the more he looked at Sherlock the more he loved him. Even the worst of Sherlock's behavior didn't irritate like it had before. He still got angry with the Omega but it had toned down, and every day he found more about Sherlock to love. His smile grew as the long-legged detective rolled on to his side, an arm falling out from under the sheet his hand smack against the carpeted floor. John knelt and laid a soft kiss on Sherlock's messy hair. He closed the door to their bedroom and went to the kitchen to make tea. As the kettle heated he pulled out a pocket notebook he'd taken to carrying and made a note to ask the Omega gynecologist if four bouts of sickness in one day was normal. He had filled four pages with question he wanted to ask the doctor, and was sure that he would have half a page more when the appointment came next week. He finished the tea and went to sit by the telly. He turned it on to some random channel and sat not really watching it.

The sun was setting when Sherlock came out of the bedroom, still dressed in the clothes he's worn out. John watched as Sherlock laid down on the couch, "are you feeling better?" he asked. Sherlock nodded, "much." he looked at the TV and frowned "how can you watch this drivel?" he asked in disgust. John sighed, "I'm not really, the noise helps me think," he ran hand through his hair. "about what?" Sherlock asked.

John hummed nervously thinking on how to answer, finally he said. "I don't want you taking any cases while your pregnant." he held up his hand to cut Sherlock off before he could say anything, sure that he would object to the boredom that would drive him mad. "I have a couple of reasons for thinking this, it would help with your morning sickness, and also I don't want you or the baby getting hurt." he said. Sherlock blinked at him, "what about income?" Sherlock asked John, "I realize my Job isn't steady, but you don't make enough at the clinic to cover everything." John tensed, Sherlock had a point. "I could work extra hours," he said feeling the weight of Sherlock's being pregnant truly for the first time. The finances need for an infant let alone when the child begins to grow up. "I don't want you to work extra hours, I don't like the hours you're keeping now." Sherlock responded standing to go over to John. John watched him kneel in front of him. "I'm working the same hour I ever have." he said. "I know, and I've never liked them." Sherlock muttered leaning his head against Johns chest.

John raised his hand and began running it through Sherlock's hair, "do you have any better idea's that would keep you safe and me from having to work more?" he asked more out of irritation than anything else, he couldn't think of one. Sherlock was quiet for a minute, and for a moment John thought he might have won the disagreement. He didn't relish in the feeling like he normally would have. He didn't want to leave Sherlock by himself more than he already was. "I might." Sherlock spoke up. John stopped stroking his hair and looked down at him. Sherlock lifted his head to meet john eyes. John was worried about the pinched look on his face, "what is it?" he asked, softly. Sherlock shook his head, "I'd have to run it by Mycroft first, but I think an exception could be made." "what? Sherlock what are you planning?" John asked truly worried, Sherlock and Mycroft may be on better terms, but that didn't mean Sherlock went willing to his brother for something, not unless there was no other way.

"I want to get access to my trust fund back," Sherlock said the pinched expression becoming more pronounced. John started to pet Sherlock's hair again, "I was under the impression you nearly cleaned it out," John said confused. Sherlock barked a laugh, "not even close, I barely made a dent and that was after nearly four years of using it freely." John's eyes went wide, "how much is in your trust fund?" he asked. "I don't know off-hand but I'm certain its gown considerably by now." John blinked, "that would help, but you don't seem to like the idea, why?" Sherlock huffed and scowled, "it would mean talking to my parents." John furrowed his brow at him, "when was the last time you talked to them?" he asked. "Rebah," Sherlock answered. "Oh," that didn't seem to long ago, six years, it could have been longer. "the first time," Sherlock finished. John hissed at that, "and how long ago was that?" he asked tensing. "Eleven years, I was 19. I dropped out of Uni to go on my parents request, as it was the school didn't care that I was a user as long as it didn't come up in my record." Sherlock sneered. "I was planning on becoming a chemical engineer." he whispered the last part. John sighed and pulled Sherlock into an awkward hug. "I'm sorry, that didn't work out," he mumbled into his hair. After a moment Sherlock wrapped his arms around him. "I haven't spoken to them since I got on the plane, Mycroft hasn't told them anything, except that I'm alive, at my request." John squeezed his eyes tight, he knew the feeling of broken dreams, he had felt that very acutely when they told him the tremor in his hand meant he could no longer do operations, never again.

Eventually they went to bed wrapped in each others arms to stave off the feelings of what could have been. Tomorrow would be better, john thought, tomorrow he would focus on what is and what will come, not on what could have, and should have been.

A/N: I'm trying to address real issues about becoming a new parent, and money is a big one. Also I still need a gender for the kid, and before you ask I am not doing twins, triplets, or any other number but one, so pick a gender and a name folks, and let me know... REVIEW!

Please review it only takes a moment and it's not that hard I swear.

By the by I'm looking for a Beta reader if you are one and are willing to help me out, let me know. Put it in the review, I read them all.