PART II - REBIRTH

Chapter 3

A/N: omg thank u guys for all the views #besties luv my readers plz no trolls #chooselove #haterz k thanx plz comment if u fav. sorry guyz I know sherlock is like somewhat out of character idk #writing

Tags: MPREG, Virgin!Sherlock, Stalker!Sherlock, Domestic, Watersports

Leaning over the side of his bed, Sherlock saw the sun rise as though it was giant fried egg over the crumbling London chimney tops. He saw that his hair was matted and greasy after he had fallen asleep covered in the pool water. John wasn't laying beside him and all at once Sherlock felt a pang of loneliness that he wrote about in detail in the first person in his leather-bound journal:

12-8-2016

Woke up today…alone…no…one…was…here. I wore John's shirt to bed last night. It smelt of expired frozen fish and reminded me of the rough vowels of his charming cockney accent. My butt hurts from the multiple rounds of sex that we had in the pool last night but I have NO REGRETS 3 3. #TruLuv.

After we boned using the back-end of a plastic pool skimmer, John took my hand and told me he loved me. Obviously I was ecstatic, my feelings for the doctor running deeper than the dark, godless mines of Sierra Leone. Then though….today…to wake up alone? Why? Why did he run? Was I inadequate? Perhaps. Perhaps my virginal lovemaking was not up to par for the good doctor. What now, then?

Sherlock sighed, putting down his quill. Suddenly, his stomach heaved and he ran into the bathroom and saw he had vomited up apple cider and streams of cum. What was wrong with him? The last time he had food poisoning was after he was lost in the jungle for several days and had been forced to eat the day-old feces of the endangered Brazilian jungle bear. Wiping his mouth, he took a pregnancy test and realized that he was pregnant. How was that possible? (A/N: OK so like not really sure how #TruLuv OK so like plz no flamez k thx)

What would John think of his pregnancy? Would he even care considering he had left so abruptly? How could Sherlock even find John when he hadn't left his cell phone number? Surely, Mycroft would track John down if need be, but Mycroft was at the Opera, bruising the beef curtains with some high-end rent boy.

"Ugh….what should I do?" Sherlock sighed and felt a single tear trickle over his cut cheekbone.

Then he remembered, John was at the pharmacy today picking up children's Tylenol for his practice. There was only one Pharmacy in London that Sherlock knew of, so he showered and put on his black coat and a red scarf and made his way through the water-logged London streets. Passing under the roof-top pool, Sherlock smiled to himself remembering all the amazing underwater blow jobs he had given the night before.

Finally, Sherlock made it to the pharmacy and sure enough found John who he saw was shirtless under his white lab coat. John was talking excitedly to a ginger man behind the counter and Sherlock felt a pang of jealousy. Had John left early so he could talk to the hot pharmacist? As Sherlock crept closer, he soon realized they weren't talking but they were actually arguing about the large amount of children's Tylenol that John was trying to buy.

"Oi, lis'en up mate, tha's too much Tylenol, don't yah fink. Oi 'ate to say, but you's gots to put some o' that back then. Roight now," the pharmacist demanded.

"Come on, Moriar'y, don't 'ate on me loike this. This lot 'ere is f'r the chil'ren, yah kin?"

"Oi, I kin alroight. Jist put some back and we wont 'ave a problem, yeah?"

Sherlock assessed the situation using his heightened sense of deduction. Yes, Moriarty was right 879 bottles of Tylenol seemed too much, even if it was for the children. Now that he took a closer look at John, he could see the doctor's eyes were bloodshot and they was something frantic about the way that he hugged several dozen of the bottles up against his heart.

"John, I think you might be addicted to Tylenol. Let me help you…" Sherlock said.

"Back off, mate. Oi'm fine, OK? Oi don't need you or you're s'upid ways you learn' figh'in' wit the Irish free'om figh'ers down in Belfas', alroight?" John screamed from where he was half buried under the weight of hundreds of bottles of purple Tylenol that made him look like an agitated blueberry.

"John," Sherlock pleaded. "I thought you promised not to let my past come between us!"

"Alroight, that's enough of that." Moriary yelled, stepping out from behind the counter. "You're gonna give back some of them Tylenols, mate."

Sherlock saw Moriarty pull back his arm as though he was going to punch John in the face and sprung to John's rescue. Pulling John through a tumbling cascade of Tylenol bottles, Sherlock stepped in front of Moriarty and felt as Moriarty's fist connected with his delicate porcelain face.

"Oh my god!" Sherlock exclaimed. He could feel blood dripping over his cheek. John gasp in surprise, immediately abandoning his horde to kneel by Sherlock's side.

"Are you alroight mate?" John gasped, gingerly caressing Sherlock's bleeding cheek. "This moight need s'i'ches."

John rummaged through the Home Essential's aisle and came back with a sewing kit. He slid the needle sensuously through his lips to clean it off before sewing up Sherlock's split cheek. Sherlock shivered as the needle, warm from the heat of John's mouth, penetrated his tender skin. The stitching took several minutes, but once they were done, Sherlock saw his cheek in the mirror and saw that John had used red thread.

"You remembered my favorite color!" Sherlock sighed as John pulled him into an embrace.

"'ow you feelin', Mister 'olmes?" John asked.

"I'm fine, John," Sherlock whispered, lowered his eyes so that his dark eyelashes were splayed out across his chiseled upper face region. "I'm just hope Moriarity's punch didn't hurt the baby."

"The baby!" John gasped!

"Yes, that's why I came to find you," Sherlock murmured. "I wanted to tell you that I'm pregnant with your child."

"Are you sure, then?" John asked.

"Of course! I was telling the truth when I said I hadn't slept with anyone else." Sherlock nodded feverously.

"Oi, fuck me. Oi fink oi'm gonna be sick." John groaned.

"You don't want the children?" Sherlock sobbed.

"No, Mister 'olmes. Oi daan't fink you unders'and me roight now. Oi clearly 'ave a serious pro'lem wit the 'ole bloody chil'ren's Tylenol fing, daan't yah git it? What kind o' father would oi be tah dah li'le tyke if oi 'ave a serious addic'ion? Hmmm…answer me that?" John sighed, pulled away from Sherlock's embrace.

"I don't care what kind of father you'd make, I love you and I want you to be part of our child's life!" Sherlock yelled. "I can't believe you would abandon me like this, John."

"Sorry, Mister 'olmes, I jist can't be part of this alroight." John shrugged, shaking as he pulled the scattered bottles of Tylenol into a bright red shopping cart.

Sherlock fled from the store.

Chapter 4

A/N: #crying #cliffhanger I know plz don't hate me for the last chapter #TriggerWarning for #OccupyWallStreet and #AirportChildbirth

Tags: MPREG, Evil!Moriarty, Confused!John, Pregnant!Sherlock

Sherlock touched down in the Laguardia airport at 5:45 in the morning. He'd spent the entire flight thinking of John and Morarity's fight in the drugstore. He felt sad that John was unhappy about the pregnancy. Already, Sherlock could feel the round pregnancy bump under John's collared shirt which he was still wearing from the aftermath of their lovemaking.

"Howdy Partner, welcome to New York City!" A brutally ugly overweight man wearing cowboy boots who also liked reading and was into scrapbooking in a way that counteracted the traditional American stereotype greeted Sherlock at the airport Starbucks. "What can I get for y'all? Coffee, black? Or maybe you're more of tea fellow."

"Neither please. I'm pregnant, I can't have caffeine," Sherlock sighed, remembered how John had licked the honey spoon before sensuously rubbing the honey over his erect penis the night before. "Can you please tell me where I can find other liberal people?!" (A/N: #feelthebern no flamez plz k #thanx #bernie4prez #2016yall)

"Well now, y'all wouldn't be talkin' 'bout occupy wall street, would you?" The barista asked.

"My dear Barista, that is precisely the event to which I am referring," Sherlock announced.

After getting directions from the barista, Sherlock made his way down to Wall Street and joined the group of protesters. He made a sign about Goldman Sacks and they picketed until late at night. He felt dehydrated and sick from his pregnancy so he ducked into a central park bathroom where he vomited several times into a clogged urinal. Sliding down against the wall, he began to cry, feeling the tears trace delicately over his Adonis-like features like a leaky water fountain.

He ran his slender fingers over his vulnerable, pale British skin and thought about how much he missed John...the baby would never know his father…Sherlock thought as he ran a hand over the growing baby bump and felt a small kick against his fingers.

As he stood up to leave the grimy bathroom, his water broke like a burst dam that had been holding back gallons of yellow amniotic fluid. Panicking as he realized that he was starting to have contractions, Sherlock ran to a payphone and dialed John's cell number.

"Oi, dis is John, who'm oi speakin' wit?" John asked, his voice sounding like music in the dimly lit telephone booth.

"John, it's Sherlock."

"Sherlock! Oi need your 'elp mate, Moriar'y's gonna expose moi addic'ion to Tylenol!" John shouted.

"John," Sherlock said. "My water broke, the baby is coming…I need to fly back to London. I want you there for the birth."

"Mister 'olmes, I wanna be there wit you for the birt' too, if tha'd be alroight." John said, affectionately.

"John, that would be more than alright." Sherlock signed and quickly ran off to book his plane ticket home. When Sherlock touched down at Heathrow he was literally going into serious labor. He felt himself collapse by the baggage claim as John rushed to his side.

(A/N: OK readerz warning for #gore not really sure how childbirth works LOLZ but giving it my best shot so plz no flamez #babiez #Johnlock)

After a lot of pushing and fluids, Sherlock birthed out a child and then another child.

"Croikes! Oi didn't know you wuz 'avin' twins, mate!" John explain. Sherlock sighed, cradling the babies close to his chest as John embraced him in the middle of the baggage claim.

"Neither did I, John."

"Mister 'olmes, oi want nuffin' more than to stay wit you as the fa'er, but oi'm abou' to be sent to pris'n if Moriar'y exposes moi addic'ion. Oi'll survive jist foine in pris'n, but wut about our chil'ren?"

"Don't worry, John. I contacted my brother on the plane ride over. He's taken care of Moriarty. We can finally be together!" Sherlock said happily.

"Oi luv you, Sherlock!" John said.

"I love you too, John."

THE END

A/N: Thanx so much for reading guyz plz review only nice stuff though k thanx #firstfic #Johnlock #MPREG #LuvMyReaders What do you guys think about a sequel?!

See THIS PIC below for the baggage claim where Sherlock gives birth:

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