Title: Children of War

Categories: Doctor Who & Sherlock

Genres: Family, Angst, Romance, Drama

Pairings: John/Sherlock, Amy/Rory, Eleven/River

Warning: Slash/Mpreg, some swears, violence,...River's and Hamish's indoctrination could be considered Child Abuse, no? UnBeta'd so there are bound to be mistakes. Also! Wibbly Wobbly time lines!

Side note: This story is based around the Doctor Who episode "A Good Man Goes to War." and that little rhyme. I was going to start it out much more confusing with an Adult Hamish but decided not to, though don't be surprised if it does happen. Don't own either of these fandoms.


.:~*~:.

When Mycroft walked into his office he was genuinely surprised, though the only outer tale of said surprise was the slight widening of his eyes. Otherwise he kept completely composed as he walked to his desk, twirling his infamous umbrella in his hand, and took a seat. Leaning back into his chair and lacing his fingers on his belly he was silent for a moment before he broke the silence in the darkening room as the sun set in the window behind the two brothers over the city of London began to set.

"I wasn't expecting you for another few months."

There was a prolonged silence that would have bothered anyone who wasn't a Holmes. Finally the younger broke it by lifting his head and staring at his older brother with the most vulnerable and frightened eyes he has ever expressed. Ever. Hands shook before they landed on the raven's stomach.

"There's a new variable Mycroft...I don't know what to do."

Mycroft sat up straight in his chair, clever response turned to led on his silver tongue as he observed his brother's body language. He silently asked the question, 'are you sure?' which he received a firm curt nod.

Taking out his mobile phone, Mycroft stood to make some calls when the adjacent door in his office opened.

"Sorry to intrude gentlemen...but I think it's much...much worse than you thought..." the Doctor said solemnly as he stepped out of the shadows.

"Doctor...we didn't hear you arrive." Mycroft said as he walked up to the Doctor, becoming a wall between the alien and his brother.

"I'm on a mission. Gotta keep it hush hush right now, you understand, don't you Mikey." The Doctor said with fake enthusiasm.

That caused Mycroft to raise an eyebrow in question since every time he's encountered the man he was all genuinely happy unless taken to that point of desperation. Ignoring the nickname he asked, "What's the mission?"

The Doctor ignored Mycroft and went to meet Sherlock. He smiled sadly as he took out his Sonic Screwdriver from his tweed jacket, "Hello Sherlock..."

"Doctor." Sherlock answered with a curt nod.

"How long?" he asked as he gestured to Sherlock's rather flat stomach.

"Eight months in another week." he replied quietly.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow again and his eyes widened a bit at the news, realizing now that something much more was going on. Something out of his jurisdiction and in the Doctor's area...which didn't sit well with him one bit. "Why didn't you come to me sooner?" he asked.

"He barely figured it out," the Doctor replied. "Visions? Hallucinations? Woman in a slot?"

"With an eye patch," Sherlock nodded.

The Doctor nodded and turned to the former detective. "Listen to me Sherlock..." he played with the Sonic in his hand, looking torn but determined, "You're going to meet a friend of mine. In a situation just like you...tell her we're coming. We're going for you, the both of you. Just...hang on." he raised the Sonic towards Sherlock.

"Doctor? What are you doing!" Mycroft demanded, rushing towards his brother but the Doctor held him back.

"That's not Sherlock...that hasn't been Sherlock...for a very long time." he pressed the button on the Sonic and moments later there was a puddle of white goo were Sherlock once was.

Mycroft's shocked face turned fierce as he turned to the Doctor and demanded, "Where is he?"

"Right now, out of our reach but we're saving him...first though, we have to save John."

"John?" Mycroft echoed.

"It's complicated. But we're in the time era so we should probably go help. Rory is already on his way but you never know with Romans." The Doctor answered as he turned to head back towards the door where he came from.

Grabbing his umbrella Mycroft followed the Doctor "The hell is going on?"

"I dunno but the Cybermen have gotten word that today was the day John dies and I can assure you it's not by his own hand nor is it natural. So either hurry up or I'll go and save him myself." The Doctor said.

"He won't want you saving him." Mycroft said in response.

That stopped the Doctor in his tracks. Then he turned around and smiled sadly at the other, "I know...I know. But that's not going to stop me from saving him...I owe him that much."

"...you owe him more than that."

"...I know."


.:~*~:.

John sighed as he walked onto the crime scene and under the yellow tape that Donovan was holding up for him. "Why am I even here? I have no authorization anymore."

She looked from the crime scene to back at John and shrugged, "I would agree with you had this been something normal."

"I'm not him," John stated for what seemed one too many times since it happened.

"...you're the closest thing we have." was all she said as she ushered him towards Lestrade.

It wasn't the first time since the incident that they've called him on a case. No he didn't really have any right to be there and really, he didn't want to be there any of the times that he was, but with a few calls from a 'mysterious' government official he was allowed to consult.

Lestrade knew that John missed it but he missed doing it with Sherlock more. When John locked himself up and became a mess, Lestrade did his best as a friend to keep the other from the darkest and lowest point. He knew better than to call him in often, but he knew that a man of action like John needed more than a flu epidemic as excitement in his life and would bring him in for an odd case once a month or two.

"John," Lestrade called from the lower level of the building. John followed the voice towards the basement and raised an eyebrow at what he saw.

"What is all this?"

"We were hoping you could look around and help us figure that out," Lestrade said as he instructed some of the forensic guys to another part of the room.

"I'm not him." he repeated in a tired voice. Each time he said it, it killed him a bit inside. It was like asking a child, so new to the world, to immediately become a even more successful version of a successful father. He pushed those thoughts away and surveyed the room.

Said room looked...old, unused, covered in spiderwebs, layer beyond layer of dust, and rust wherever there was metal. But the thing that caught the eye most was the center of the room looked...like a scene from a science fiction film.

"What is this?" he asked quietly as he walked around what looked like a medical bed. Alien or futuristic it held the basics of what John recognized to be similar to the equipment of a hospital room. The bed in the center, machinery, wires...

"It's weird, that's what it is." Lestrade muttered.

"Not what I meant...has this room been in any use?" John asked.

Lestrade turned around in his spot, "Look around John. Does it look like it has?"

He rolled his eyes, "It's a medical bed of some sort...it's...it's like nothing I've ever seen," minus the few times he's been with the Doctor in the future, " but it looks like a medical bed...you know, used to keep...something, sustained."

"And?" Lestrade asked.

"And..." John strained the word as if the observation was obvious. "Medical equipment to keep things sustained need to be powered...so what's been powering this up?"

Lestrade looked down at the bed with his hands stuffed in his pocket and nodded, "Good question."

Before John could reply, one of the forensics called out, "Sir?"

John followed Lestrade and saw that the others had found a manhole.

"Let me guess...some sort of power unit down there?" Lestrade asked.

The forensic guy looked surprised before nodding, "Yes, that's right. It seems only hours ago that it barely turned off."

"Hours?" Lestrade echoed.

The forensic guy nodded, "The amount of power it seemed to be generating with the machine we found was a lot. Even though it turned off, it's still somewhat warm." the man looked around, "And considering how unused this place is...it's...odd, sir."

"Tell me about it," Lestrade huffed.

"That's not all sir." the man said.

Lestrade heaved out a sigh, "Of course not...alright, what else is there?"

"That's the even weirder part sir. We found boxes..."

"Boxes filled with what?" John piped in, curious.

The forensics man looked wary of replying which made the other two more curious, "From the American Space Program...from 1969. The thing is sir...it's brand new! No scratches, no scuffs, no spec of dust..."

"Are you sure?" Lestrade asked, confused about how the information could be relevant.

"Positive sir."

"Could it be from a film? Maybe convincing props?" John suggested and Lestrade nodded in agreement.

"We thought so too but there were papers sir. With seals of confirmation and everything...a signature from President Ronald Reagan himself!"

"...Don't touch anything. I don't think this is our division." Lestrade said solemnly.

"I guess this means I can go?" John asked. If things got too weird than that meant that a certain double heart-ed alien in a blue box was soon to arrive and no matter what face he was met with, it wasn't one he wanted to see.

"Suppose so. But hey," he reached out and grabbed John's arm as the ex-army doctor turned to leave, "How's about you join me and the boys for a night at the pub? Have a pint. Do you some good. Looks like they've got you working overtime again."

John stared at Lestrade for a moment before relenting and nodding his head. When the DI let him go, John all but sped out of that crime scene and tried to make it to the nearest road where he could grab a cab and head home.


When John finally reached a busy road he didn't have much luck hailing a cab and decided to walk some more of the distance. It wasn't like he had much to do and didn't fancy getting pissed at a pub by himself or going back to the empty flat.

He decided to take a short cut through an alley and when he came up the other end he was surprised to see a small boy in the middle of the empty street.

Looking around for a parent or older sibling, John walked up to the boy and offered a gentle smile, "Hello there. Are you lost?"

The young boy with fair skin, dark hair, and blue eyes just stared back at him blankly. He was unnerved a bit by the intensity of that stare. Not because he wasn't used to it—no, he was used to it because of Sherlock—and maybe that's why he was so unnerved. This little boy reminded him so much of his dead lover. Shaking his head from the thoughts he leaned down to the boy's eye level and tried again.

"My name is John Watson. What's your name?"

The boy just kept looking at him without saying a word or moving a muscle. John was beginning to feel awkward and as he stood up he looked back in the direction he came wondering if he should phone Lestrade or one of his men.

When he did turn away he had the breath knocked out of him when he was tackled to the floor with a shout of, "WATCH OUT!"

He landed with a thud and an oomph. Blinking away the spots he looked at the person who tackled him and blinked again...and again.

"Are you alright?" asked the man who had assaulted him, which had he not been so confused, John would have laughed at the irony of his attacker asking if he was alright.

"Hello? Are you-" but then the man rolled them a few times before pulling John to his feet and taking off in a run.

When they cut the corner, John pulled his hand from the other and stopped in his tracks, "What the hell are you wearing!" John demanded.

The other looked down at himself and then at John, a light blush appearing on his cheeks, "The Doctor said I should—look, we need to move."

"The Doctor?" John froze and the shook his head some, "Wait a minute...are you...are you a real Roman?"

The other stared at him for a moment and then made a face, "Yes...?"

"Well which is it?" John asked.

"It's complicated and for another time, now we have to go." the Centurion said.

John took a step back, "I'm not going anywhere with you or the Doctor. And especially since you attacked me for no reason. And there's a little boy back there that was alone and needs help."

The Centurion sighed and pulled John by the hand then pressed them against the corner and carefully looked over the corner and motion John to do the same, "See where you were? What do you see?"

John squinted his eyes that widened a moment later. In both places where he had been, there were scorch marks.

"What the hell?" John whispered.

"It's not safe for you. Come with me and I'll expla-"

"You explain right now!" John demanded.

"I-"

"Right now." John emphasized.

"But-"

"Don't bother Rory. This is the man with the patience of a Saint, or so the legend goes." came a voice from the other end of the alley.

John stiffened and glared at the man who came into view, "You're one to talk about legends."

The Doctor smiled sadly, "Hello John...long time no see."

"Not long enough." John hissed.

"I'd beg to differ." the Doctor said calmly as he walked up to the two blondes.

"Since I'm still alive, like I said, not long enough."

"Guys...can we please go?" Rory cut in, feeling the heavy tension between the Doctor and the ex-army doctor.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," John spat towards the Doctor.

The Doctor sighed, "John I couldn't save him..."

"Bull shit!" John cried and turned to walk away.

"I can't save someone who wasn't going to die!" the Doctor called out and John froze mid-step. When the ex-army doctor didn't say anything, the Doctor continued, "It's impossible to bring someone back who never died...I'm sorry you have to find out like this but-" he didn't get to finish as John turned and punched him as hard as he could.

The Doctor recoiled and grabbed his face. He stumbled a bit back and tried to blink back his vision, "Okay...blonde soldiers will always punch me in honor of their mates. Got it."

"Nice punch." Rory commented.

"Thanks." John replied.

"Okay! Now that we're all buddies, lets go!" the Doctor cheered.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you meant earlier-" John began.

"Sherlock is clever. As clever as you know and believe him to be. He lived, of course he did, but something happened! Something that puts him and you and well...everyone here in danger. Now if there aren't any more questions, come on we have a few Cybermen ships to visit. Since they're right about this, means they'll know where Sherlock and Amy are."

John's head was spinning wildly as he tried to keep up with the Doctor's rambling.

"What's happened? Where's Sherlock?" John demanded.

"In trouble." the Doctor stopped rambling and looked at John seriously in the eye, "He needs us. He needs you. Please...one last leap of faith, John...just one more."

John looked at the Doctor's pleading eyes for a long moment as he tried to decide if he was telling the truth or not before he finally sighed and gave in. If there was a fools chance of saving Sherlock, he'll always be that fool.

But then he turned back, "But this boy..."

"He was the one trying to kill you, not lets go before he finds us!" the Doctor explained in his usual exuberant self.

"Kill me? Why would that boy want to kill me? And how?" John demanded.

"I thought we said no more questions. Come on. Onto the Tardis. You and Rory have a message to deliver!"


.:~*~:.

Amy watched helplessly as some soldiers forcibly dragged away a kicking and screaming man who she's come to know as Sherlock Holmes. A man in the same position as her and her chest tightened at the emotion.

When the soldier walked away through another door with a baby boy in a white capsule like crib, Amy approached the glass crib that held her daughter, "I wish I could tell you that you'll be loved. That you'll be safe and cared for and protected," she said as she took hold of the infant's hand. The baby cooed in ignorance of what was going to happen and Amy's voice became defiant and angry, "But this isn't the time for lies." she said as she picked up her baby.

"What you are going to be, Melody, is very, very brave. Both you and Hamish."

The woman with the eye patch stepped up and said sternly, "Two minutes."

Amy looked at the woman with even more defiance, "But not as brave as they'll have to be. Because there's someone coming. And he's not alone. I don't know where they are, or what they're doing," she said as she walked towards the window and looked out to the fully stocked army base, "But trust me, they're on their way."

Amy began to rock little Melody, "There's a man who's never going to let us down. And not even an army can get in the way." when she turned from the window the woman with the eye patch was walking up to her, the same way she walked up to Sherlock, with her arms open.

"Leave her," Amy demanded quietly. But then began to tear up as the baby began to cry, "Just you leave her! Please leave her, please! LEAVE HER!"

Melody was taken from her and placed on another crib, one much like the one they had placed Hamish in. Amy walked up to it and whispered, "He's the last of his kind. He looks young but he's lived for hundreds and hundreds of years. And wherever they take you Melody, however scared you are, I promise you, you will never be alone." she leaned down to kiss her baby's forehead. "Because this man is your father. He has a name but the people of our world know him better...as "The Last Centurion." And he's with a man who's ordinary and that's what makes him extraordinary. A man who's seen a lot and still wants to see more...and he writes about it so everyone else can know that the ordinary can be extraordinary and the extraordinary can be ordinary...and they they both can be amazing."


TCB...