Chapter 20 Unexpected

John ignored the cursing Alpha he left gasping for air on the sidewalk, serves him right smug bastard.

The Omega was so angry, he could barely see straight. He tried to take deep breaths and calm his fury (hurt?) before taking the steps two at a time. It would be a matter of minutes before someone called the police to report an assault, and John would need that time to straighten outhis own Alpha.

Oh god, he needed to clear out the drugs on the table, and if there were any in the flat.

Could there be more in the flat?

The blond doctor could barely see straight, his eyes unable to focus tears of frustration?

Why was this so damn confusing? Hold it together John.

Sherlock was still on the couch, heavy lidded eyes half closed. The doctor checked the man's breathing before pulling the belt used as a tourniquet loose from the pale arm. John cringed, seeing the bruising as he hauled the taller man to his feet. He needed to clean him, get the scent of the other Alpha off him, sober him up. Sherlock should be awake; drugs were tainting his scent and slowing his heart.

With a move his army training taught him, he managed to foist the Alpha up into a fireman's like hold over his sturdy shoulders.

"Idiot," John growled, making his way to the bathroom. "Of all the stupid things!"

The blond soldier turned on the cold waterand didn't bother to remove any of the Alpha's clothes before plopping him none to gently under the freezing water.

It didn't take long for the dark haired detective to come out of his daze, sputtering and coughing from the shock of the cold water.

"John?" Sherlock's teeth chattered, "What the-"

"Shut it!" John snapped, causing the Alpha to flinch unexpectedly. "And stay down!" He snapped, pushing the Alpha's shoulders back into the tub. "Don't talk. Just sit there you damn idiot!"

John left the bathroom. He needed to get rid of the evidence: what if the police came by, or or that DI? How would this look? Sherlock would definitely be in trouble, wasn't this what his brother warned John about?

Why was he here with that Alpha? Were they intimate? The stranger's stink was everywhere. John felt something in his stomach churn at the idea of Sherlock preferring the smug bastard's company and body.

"Of course he would," John thought to himself. Sherlock hated Omegas, he'd said it all along. Why hadn't John listened, why was his heart threatening to break?

Dammit Watson focus!

"Well, I normally love to be the one to say this, and it truly never gets old. However in this one instance I must admit, saying this gives me no satisfaction."

"Saying what?" John froze seeing the elder Holmes standing inthe destroyed sitting room. The small Omega remained still unable to move, his eyes darting to the upturned table and the syringe that was lying near the disheveled couch.


The arrogant Alpha crouched down, and with his silk white handkerchief he lifted it up sighing heavily, his eyes narrowed on the nervous Omega.

"I told you so."

John didn't have the chance to reply: there were more strangers coming up the stairs with heavy feet and determination. One nod from the older Holmes and these strangers were moving through the doorway into the messy flat.

"What's this?" John kept himself close to the bathroom door where his vulnerable Alpha was still swearing angrily under the cold shower.

Mycroft handed the syringe to one of his men holding a plastic baggie out for him.

"John, I knew it was a matter of time before he relapsed. Now move aside, there are protocols set in place for such an occasion. "

John instinctively moved closer to the door to the bathroom. "Get out," He demanded. The Omega's breath was coming in short bursts, these were Alphas, more than one, and they were purposefully flooding the small space with their pheromones. John wouldn't bow, he wouldn't submit no matter how dizzy it made him: he needed to keep Sherlock safe. Needed to keep them away. His Alpha wasn't healthy, he wasn't well and these intruders could hurt him.

"John, I will not have harm come to my brother, not from anyone and especially not by his own hand. Now move aside you silly boy, he will be brought to a rehabilitation facility where he can dry out. And I expect you must want to break off this ridiculous engagement, seeing as how you are both inappropriately matched. My brother's temperament is far from nurturing and he'll be unable to keep you as an Omega needs to be kept."

The older Holmes gestured to one of his men to collect his brother; it was a poor move on Mycroft's part. He should have taken in to account that the feisty little Omega had already taken on another Alpha and successfully thrown the addict from the flat into the street. So he shouldn't have been surprised by doctor's reaction to what the Omega perceived as a threat to his vulnerable Alpha.

The first man, agent Lucas, was dropped to his knees and then knocked to his side, gasping for air. The other Agents looked to Mycroft silently asking how the situation should be handled.

"John, do step away, you will be rewarded handsomely. I'll be sure this doesn't affect your military status. Although before you deploy you will have to come up with another Alpha, and preferably one that's not in my family. I'll be damned if the Hills will rub the fact of your joining them in my face. "

John grabbed a chair from the kitchen, holding it out in front of him like a lion tamer. "Be reasonable."

The smaller man only growled in warning and snapped at the nearing agents menacingly. The Omega tried to keep himself between them and the door at the same time pleading his case.

"He's ill. He's made a mistake. Relapse is just another step in the recovery process. Your heavy hand isn't needed." John kept his eyes focused on the strangers closest to him; the rising panic was hard to keep down.

He concentrated on his breathing, he needed to keep breathing evenly, they shouldn't know he was frightened. He was a soldier and there would be times when he would be in the presence of more than one angry Alpha. He could do this; they weren't going to take Sherlock away.

"He just needs to sober up and he'll tell you he won't do it again. Or I'll kill him myself. And that guy, that addict, he wont be allowed back. I ran him off, I'll do the same to you lot! Now get out of our flat!"

John swung the chair threateningly; he could still hear Sherlock complaining from behind the door. John hoped he would stay put; he needed him to stay put and be safe. John could handle this, they wouldn't get close he wouldn't let them. He showed that skinny smug bastard, sure he'd gotten a hit or two in, but John had managed to throw him out on his skinny ass. He could protect his Alpha, keep him safe and that was that.

"Have it your way," Mycroft replied, sounding bored. Pinching the bridge of his nose and waving his men forward. "Use whatever force is necessary without injuring the Omega. As for my brother don't be too gentle, you know the routine: nothing too obvious. I won't have mummy upset at a bruised boy."


Sherlock cringed against the cold water hitting him with shockingly good water pressure. Perhaps Mrs. Hudson had gotten around to fixing the ancient plumbing, did he delete that fact? Where was John? John. Damn he wasn't supposed to see him like this. And the blasted doctor had ordered him to stay put, him! He was the Alpha, why did the little Omega keep forgetting this. Well, dammed if Sherlock Holmes was going to sit still like an obedient child.

He cursed some more and attempted to stand, and after three tries, one nearly causing him a head injury, he managed to step out of the tub soaking wet. He rubbed his sore backside; really John didn't need to have been so rough dropping him into the tub.

"John?" Sherlock growled, managing to get the door open, ignoring the squeaking noise his shoes made against the tiled floor and the throbbing in his head. Whatever the drug was that Victor had it sure did hit hard.

"Dammit, John!" Sherlock pulled the door open just in time to hear his Omega's startled cry, the smell of John's anxiety souring the air. Was Victor hurting John?

No, no one hurt John. Sherlock would tear them apart; he would decorate the walls with their blood. John was his! Leaving the bathroom, his vision narrowed on a stranger leaning over his Omega.

"Mine!" Sherlock, still slow from the drug's after effects, moved clumsily forward. The scent of Mycroft finally registered among the familiar stink of the Government's goon squad.

"Get off of him!" John managed to wiggle out of the stranger's strong hold; he had him pinned to the wall as two more Alphas went to catch the lunging consulting detective.

The Alpha pinning John hard against the wall didn't expect the kick to the groin, or the knee to his belly. John didn't hesitate to launch himself forward, placing the offending Alpha that had captured Sherlock's left arm into a head lock.

The man tried to knock the smaller Omega from him with no luck. The room darkened and the agent collapsed with a thud he began to snore.

John was breathing heavy, his eyes wild.

Too many scents in one room. Danger, Alpha! Run.

No, he couldn't leave Sherlock. Sherlock! They were holding his Alpha down, there was a syringe. These intruders meant to sedate the dark haired Alpha.

No! No more drugs!

Sherlock snapped furiously against the man holding him, he could hear John's snarl and the struggling. Then the weight pushed up against him was lifted and pulled back.

The small Omega managed to knock the bigger man back; he panted, keeping himself in front of a still sluggish Sherlock and the three Alphas left standing.

John tried to calm the panic and his declining adrenaline.

Was that why everything felt so heavy? Was the room spinning or was he on a merry-go- round? Damn if his eyes wouldn't focus, how odd, it was as if he had been drugged…

Mycroft frowned. One of the agents that had been inches from sedating Sherlock now stood frozen in place.

"Shit." The lean Agent turned to his boss as if to say more, but the British Government was already following the man's line of sight back to the blond Omega.

There, in the blond's shoulder, protruded the syringe meant for a taller Alpha, one who was already drugged and had a tolerance for these kinds of dealings. That would be the reasoning behind the specific dosing in the syringe and the mixture of sedatives. Very strong sedatives.

Sherlock tried to focus. His mind spinning, he was slow to deduce the situation.

John was swaying on his feet and his hand shakily retrieved a hypodermic needle that was stuck in his shoulder.

"Damn." The Omega murmured, drooling on himself as he collapsed.

"John?" Sherlock caught the lighter man. "John!" the addict was having a hard time focusing himself, and he struggled weakly when his brother's men pulled him back.

Sherlock could hear his brother's quick commands and then the feel of a sharp needle stick to the back of his neck.

Mycroft waved his men off, and they quickly carried Sherlock down to the van waiting just outside. The small Omega was lifted up just as quickly.

"He'll need medical attention quickly, that dose would put down an Alpha four times his weight and tolerance. It was meant to knock your brother out for an hour, his tolerance is so strong, but this-I don't know how long it will keep him out. That's if it doesn't stop his heart." One of the Agents nervously advised checking the Omega's neck for a pulse.

"Get him up; we'll have all the necessary equipment at my home. Grand Mere won't be too happy if we've killed my brother's fiance. So I suggest you tell the driver to drive quickly."

"Yes sir! Right away."

Mycroft shook his head, glancing around the flat "Well that was unexpected." He huffed to himself.

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