In His Eyes, Chapter one
Hello! Okay so this is my first Omegaverse fic, and it's slightly AU because of this; there are equal numbers of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, and each person, regardless of whether Alpha, Beta, or Omega, has a set partner or group that they go with (think soul mates with the possibility of polyamory, also group bonding. In the case of polyamoury, Alphas get bitten on the wrist, Betas on the shoulder, and Omegas on the neck.) Omega!Sherlock x Alpha!John, Mystrade (I'll leave you to wonder who's alpha in there for a while), Alpha!Moriarty x Omega!Moran, (unbonded) Omega!Irene. Have fun, lovelies!
At this point in his life, John Watson doubted that he would ever find his Intended. Even if he did, who's to say that they would be interested in him; an ex-army doctor with a limp deported on invalid. Though she never said it, John knew that Ella, his therapist, thought that it was doubtful as well.
So when an old uni friend, Mike Stamford, introduced John to Sherlock Holmes, an Omega who was looking for a flatshare in central London, John was shocked to find that the second that he made eye contact with the tall, dark-haired man, both of them were hit in the chest with something incredibly powerful, and approximately the weight of an 18-wheeled truck.
They didn't break eye contact at all as they fell, by some miracle, knowing exactly what was happening, and exactly how important it was not to look away; if the bond between two or more Intendeds was incomplete, there was a high risk of damage to the central nervous system, and in some cases, even death to all individuals in the set, regardless of whether or not they had found the other people that they were Intended to.
"Well, I hoped that maybe you two would get along, but I had no idea that you would end up being Intended! I'll leave you to it, then, some privacy to start to know each other." Stamford left as John and Sherlock were picking themselves up off of the floor and carefully sitting down, sure to keep eye contact until the bond was complete.
The bond between Intendeds was different than the bonds between Alphas and Omegas; Intendeds could communicate through thought just as easily as out loud, no matter how far away they were, where between Alphas and Omegas who were not Intended, the best of a link that one could hope for would be an emotive reading within a certain range. The initial bonding between Intendeds also transferred important information; everything from food allergies and clothing preferences to kinks to how they liked their coffee.
As the flood of information threatened to drown John, all he could do was to stare into the eyes of this stranger and remember to blink occasionally. He was learning absolutely everything about this (admittedly gorgeous) man, much more than had been described to him as being passed between two Intended… John noted each new bit of information with interest, in particular the layout to a structure of some kind… and then, suddenly he could see the entire building in his head, a gorgeous design of soaring white marble and rosewood, with ceilings at least 30 feet above John's head and mahogany bookcases lining the whole of it. On the bookshelves, in place of books, were vials and organs in various states of decay, fabrics, and a ridiculous number of jars marked 'tobacco ash' with serial numbers and botanical names on each label. The shelves also contained information, raw, unformed information with no need for a container or ink on a page.
"I call it my mind palace," came a deep, baritone-on-the-edge-of-bass voice from just behind John. John started and turned to see Sherlock standing about two feet away, smiling slightly. He continued. "I've had to open an entirely new wing dedicated to you, it should be more comfortable there. Come along, John." It was as if they had known each other their entire lives, and yet they had only just met. John smiled as he followed, taking the taller man's hand as they walked, and said, "I thought that there was only supposed to be a little bit of information shared, not our entire lives?"
John could see every memory that passed through the bond in intense detail; he soon found that the flow of information was slowing. Sherlock noted John's amazement and said, "I have hyperthymesia; I remember every event that has ever taken place in my life as clearly as it had just happened. As a result, in order to keep my thoughts organised, I have developed this place. That's probably why there's so much information for you to take in; It's almost too much for me to take sometimes, and I've dealt with it my whole life. I'll try to hold back as much as possible for now and slow down the transfer; there's nothing saying that the bond can't form without every piece of information. If you need to sit, just let me know, I'll find you a spot. How's your shoulder?"
"It's fine, my leg hurts a bit, but I don't mind. So if this is all in your head, how can I be here? A perk of being your Intended?" "I don't think so. I think that you're in here to facilitate the bond, but that after you leave today, you won't be able to come back to this place unless one of us is seriously hurt and you have to find me." John thought about this for a moment. "Okay. So I guess the next step is to figure out what kind of relationship we want this to be, then. Do you think platonic, for now, or do you want to go for a romantic relationship?" he asked eventually.
"I'd be open to anything that you'd want, to be honest. I didn't think that I even had an Intended, and I wasn't really looking for romantic attachment because of that, so you being so open about everything helps a lot. I'd say that we should probably be platonic to start, just to get used to each other, and then let whatever happens happen, but I guess the bonding process works so that we'll already know that we're compatible. So I'm happy with whatever you want, I suppose."
Sherlock was suddenly aware that the transfer was ending, and held John out to face him. "We should choose now, before we go back out to the lab consciously, do we want a romantic relationship?" he hesitated slightly, trying not to let the hope show through his eyes as he held eye contact with John. John stretched up on his toes and placed a cautious, chaste kiss to the corner of Sherlock's mouth, closing his eyes as he felt the transfer, and his connection to the mind palace, dissipate.
He opened his eyes, back in the lab at St. Bart's, blushing, and looked at the floor when he saw that Sherlock's eyes were still closed. Shit, he thought, I've finally found my Intended and I fucked it up in the same twenty minutes. He therefore didn't see when Sherlock leaned toward him to cup his jaw gently in order to turn his face. No, you haven't, John. John's eyes widened as Sherlock gently brushed his thumb against John's lower lip and smiled before closing the distance between them.
As they sat on the floor, John heard the door of the lab open and a surprised 'Oh!' from a woman. Sherlock pulled away to look up, and smiled. "Molly, hello." his brow furrowed slightly. "What happened to the lipstick? You were wearing lipstick before," he pointed out. "It erm, it wasn't working for me. I brought your coffee, also. Who's this?" She set the hot mug of the acid that hospitals attempt to pass as coffee on the desk where Sherlock could reach. "Oh, sorry, introductions. John, this is Molly, she works in the morgue and is an invaluable source of materials. Molly, this is John, my Intended. We've really only just met, I suppose."
John stood and shook Molly's hand, smiling. "Hello, Molly." She smiled timidly, not making eye contact. John noted this; Most people immediately made eye contact upon meeting a new person in order to determine whether or not they were Intended. She's never made eye contact with me either, Sherlock confided mentally to John. What, never? John asked, incredulous. Isn't she curious?
Their mental conversation was interrupted as Molly addressed them again. "I'd better get back to work, I've got four postmortems this afternoon," she admitted, ducking out of the room before John or Sherlock could say goodbye or thanks for the coffee. I think that she's an Unintended. That would explain her unwillingness to make eye contact. She's an Omega, so it's a definite possibility. An Unintended? I thought that was just a myth! Aren't they supposed to be able to create temporary bonds with anybody that they make eye contact with? John's eyebrows raised as he stared past the door after Molly. Sherlock, meanwhile, was packing up the experiments that he had been working on. Come on, I've no more reason to be here; We can look at the flat. Mrs. Hudson said that she would give me a special deal on the rent at 221B Baker st. Okay, sounds good. I've nothing on for the rest of the day anyway.