Hello, everyone. Here we are with another update. Sorry this has been such a long time coming. MBC and I are both very busy with coursework right now and I'm also working two jobs on top of that, so I have very little time to myself, let alone write for fun.

Like it was said in our last update, we'll be limiting updates to twice a month. Sometimes it may only be once a month depending on how busy we are. But we'll definitely be posting in March as I have a week off the week of the 9th. So that time will be used for writing and updating and de-stressing.

Thank you all for your patience and kind words. We'll see you in a couple weeks.

~TSA + MBC

Trigger Warnings for this chapter: rape (it has been labeled so you can skip it if you want to)

Warnings for this chapter: father/son feels, Sherlock has wild hormones, and there is some vomiting of blood

David cleared his throat and slid off his shoes and jacket before climbing into bed with his dad. He wrapped his wings around him protectively and rested his forehead against Sherlock's shoulder blades. Michael pulled the blankets up to cover Sherlock's stomach and smiled softly before disappearing.

'Thank you,' Sherlock whispered, cuddling against David's warmth. He gently brushed his fingertips over his son's wings. 'They're beautiful. So much like my mother's,' he mused.

'Your mother's?' David asked gently. He looked at his wings and smiled softly. 'I have your mother's wings?'

'Yes, you do.' Sherlock hiccuped a sob and clutched onto David, shaking as the past caught up with him, the sight of his mother's bloodied and torn wings painfully vivid.

'Oh shit. Dad?' David shook his shoulder gently. 'Dad, it's OK. It's OK.'

'No! No, it's not OK!' Sherlock sobbed louder.

'Oh shit. Shit! Uncle Myc! Help!' David hollered, desperately holding onto Sherlock in an attempt to still him.

'No!' Sherlock took a deep breath, steadying himself slightly. 'No,' he said in a quieter voice. 'Don't get Mycroft. It's fine. I'm fine.'

David dismissed Mycroft as soon as he appeared, hugging his dad close. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I didn't mean to upset you.'

Sherlock shook his head. 'No. It's fine. You weren't to know that my mother triggers bad memories.'

'Yeah. Uncle Myc did tell me a little about your mum. Said she was beautiful and kind and smart. I wish I could have met her. Do you think she would have liked me given my parentage?'

'You're my son. She wouldn't have had any choice but to fall in love with you.'

'Oh. Good,' David breathed out in relief. 'You should probably go to sleep though. I know you need to eat and sleep a lot when you're carrying an angel. Greg does it all the time and I know John did as well.'

Sherlock sighed and nodded. 'Yeh. Being pregnant is a pain in the arse, David. Don't you ever try it. Believe me. It's painfully dull and you have a tiny leach inside you, draining you and making you starving all the time.'

'Yeah. I'd rather not get pregnant. I'd much rather do the impregnating.' He flushed and cleared his throat. 'Sorry. I'm only eleven by human standards but I look at least twenty. Human girls really like me. Especially the ones who dress like me.'

'David,' Sherlock tsked. 'If I find out you've been impregnating innocent females you'll be in big trouble. Have you not learnt from my mistakes? Do you want to lose your wings? No. If you're desperate to impregnate people you go to the angel factory and you do your work there.'

'No. I... I'm still a virgin,' David gulped out, flushing furiously. 'And I'd rather not go to the factory. I can't even get into Heaven, so I hardly doubt I'd be able to get into the rape factory.'

'Right. Just... try not to impregnate young girls. At least wait till you've found the one you want to settle down with. And even then, just take it slow.'

'It's hard though,' David sighed. 'The human girls only like me because I'm forbidden fruit. And any angels I come across can sense I'm different and refuse to talk to me. Though a few angels have been understanding and have helped me out. And then I found John and he's helped me out so much. I missed him, and while it hurts that he doesn't know who I really am to him, it's good to talk to him.'

'I'm trying to unlock his memories,' Sherlock admitted quietly. 'But that backfired. It just made him angry and he screamed at me to get out. I really think we've lost our John for good.'

'I can go talk to him tomorrow if you like,' David suggested. 'He and Mary both really like me. He might open up to me.'

'Yeh. I'd appreciate that.' Sherlock yawned loudly. 'I really need to crash.'

'I probably should too,' David yawned. 'It's been a few day's since I've slept.'

'Mmm. Sleep.' Sherlock hummed and closed his eyes. 'And David? Don't do anything stupid.'

'What makes you think I will?' David asked, raising an eyebrow.

'You're my son. You're bound to do something stupid at one point or another,' Sherlock mumbled, a soft snore escaping his mouth.

'Thanks,' David scoffed. He laid with Sherlock for a while until he deemed him fully asleep. He pulled away slowly, pulling the blankets tighter around Sherlock to keep him warm, and ventured out of the house. He flew around for a while, feeling the wind whip through his hair and savouring the completely freeing feeling that flying gave him. He decided to go visit his friend Rose after a while of flying.

Rose, he hummed to himself. Rose was always so nice to him, and her caramel hair and light blue eyes always made his heart skip a beat. He'd had a crush on her for a while now but he'd never had the courage to tell her. She probably wouldn't have wanted to enter a relationship with a freak like him anyway. It was forbidden. But she was so sweet and kind and gave him food sometimes. He loved her, or at least thought he did, and he loved spending time with her. Perhaps now that his father was finally back he could work up the courage to tell her how he felt. He flew to her house and landed on the roof outside her window. It was open, like always, but he knocked anyway, letting her know he was there.

Rose jumped out of her skin. She'd been completely absorbed in writing her latest Sherlock role play with her American penpal and so the sudden knock on the window had startled her. She smiled when she saw that the disturbance had come from a certain angel hovering outside her window.

'David. Come on in.' She gestured for the angel to come inside.

'Hey Rose,' David smiled, sliding into her room and sitting cross-legged on her bed. 'Sorry I haven't visited in a while. I was in one of my moods. You know how those can be. And I didn't want to subject you to my mindless wrath again.'

'Nonsense.' Rose giggled and moved over to David, blushing a bright red as she locked eyes with him. He had the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. David flushed a bright shade of pink and swallowed thickly. God damn Rose had such a powerful effect on his hormones. Fucking hell. He swallowed again and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. A pathetic sounding squeak did and he shut his jaw with a snap, flushing red in embarrassment.

'Are you... OK?' Rose asked lamely, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and chewing nervously on her lower lip. David was the first man to ever have given her the time of day and he was standing in her bedroom right now. And god he was an angel... and he was drop dead gorgeous.

David attempted to speak again but still couldn't. So, he finally decided to let his actions speak for him. He gently cupped Rose's face in his hands and tilted her head up slightly, leaning in nervously. Finally their lips touched and everything was bliss, his mind completely empty and devoid of any thoughts except for one: Wow.

Rose froze as she felt soft yet slightly rough lips connect with hers. This was her first ever kiss and with an angel no less. It wasn't perfect. They're noses collided a couple of times and it was sloppy and probably completely rubbish as far as kisses went, but that made it all the more perfect. David hummed and tried to move closer to Rose, ignoring his very obvious erection. This wasn't about his cock. This was about finally kissing the girl. Though he felt really hot under the collar. A lot hotter than usual too. Oh god. What the hell was happening?!

'That was... um... nice,' Rose whispered quietly against David's lips. 'Wait- why are you glowing red? Oh my god! David, what's happening to you?!'

[Warning: rape scene ahead]

David's breathing was harsh and shallow, he could feel his pulse quickening, his heart pounding in his ears, and if he concentrated he could have felt his pupils grow so large they turned his eyes almost completely black. He had one last rational thought, Fuck, before his biology took over.

He leapt at Rose, kissing her furiously, his hands tearing at their clothes. The sound of ripping material filled the room, though the cries of Rose's feeble attempts at getting away were there too. David silenced her with a rough hand and studied her petite body for a moment before instinct took over and he shoved himself inside her.

Rose was screaming and struggling against David, tears dripping down her cheeks as her virginity was taken from her in a violent and horrific way.

He couldn't stop. There was too much sensation and it felt too damn good and he couldn't stop. He bit into Rose's neck possessively as he came violently, the light that had been surrounding him filtered into Rose's body and disappeared, and with it his animalistic instincts. He collapsed against the girl in exhaustion, oblivious to her screams and cries for the moment.

'Get off me!' Rose sobbed, clutching her stomach. She knew only too well what that red light meant and there was nothing in the slightest bit good about it. 'I said get off of me you monster! You've gotten what you wanted! Just go!'

'Hrm? What?' David looked over at Rose and froze. Oh no. Fucking hell. This wasn't good at all. Shit! What was he supposed to do now? He scrambled off the bed and toward the window, abandoning his clothes.

'I... I'm sorry,' he stammered. 'You can get rid of it, if you want. I...' He swallowed thickly and leapt out the window, flying back to the manor as fast as he could.

[end scene]

Sherlock had just woken up. He was groggy and absolutely starving. David must have left at some point so he guessed he'd have to get his own food. He groaned as he looked down at his stomach. It might have been his imagination but his stomach had grown significantly whilst he'd been asleep. Probably the growth hormone used to speed along pregnancies still in his system. Either way he felt massive and swollen and there was no way he was bothering getting up.

He whined loudly. 'My! My! Get your arse down here! I need food!'

Mycroft sighed and rolled his eyes. Living in a household with two pregnant men was going to be very trying indeed. He had the chefs whip up a breakfast buffet. He grabbed some of everything, pancakes and eggs and bacon and sausage and all kinds of fruit, and carried it all to Sherlock's room.

'Permission to enter, Your Majesty?' he asked, voice thick with sarcasm.

Sherlock growled. 'Give me the food and piss off, My.' He shifted in the bed uncomfortably, his stomach falling heavily onto his lap. 'Just hurry. I'm fucking starving.'

Mycroft sighed and set the tray of food by Sherlock on the bed. He left without speaking and went to grab his own meagre breakfast of toast and milk.

Sherlock dug into his food, hungrier than he'd ever felt in his life. Carrying female twins was a very draining ordeal indeed. He was so busy eating that he barely registered his son till he crawled into the covers as a shaking ball.

'My god!' he gasped. 'What's wrong, David? Tell me, now preferably!'

'I did something stupid,' David choked out, trembling like a leaf.

Sherlock sighed loudly. 'What was it? And don't bother lying to me, David.'

'I knocked up my best friend!' David wailed. 'I couldn't stop myself! I was glowing red and my angel instincts took over and I raped my best friend!'

Sherlock blinked in surprise and sighed again. 'Like father, like son.' He looked at David, confused. 'You're not meant to get your heats till you're older. We should tell your uncle about this. He'll help.'

'Heat? I went into heat?' David choked on a sob and buried himself deeper in the blankets. 'I feel like such a fucking idiot! Rose probably hates me now! I just wanna die!'

'This isn't your fault, David,' Sherlock said softly. 'We'll fix this. Just... please don't say you want to die. That scares the hell out of me. We'll go to your uncle now and everything is going to be just fine.'

'Will he be able to wipe Rose's memory? I don't want her to remember this. She should be able to move on without this horrible memory plaguing her.'

'I'm sure that's possible, yes,' Sherlock whispered gently, squeezing David's shoulder slightly in reassurance. 'Now, come on. You're going to have to help me out of bed.'

'OK,' David choked out. He scrambled out from under the blankets and grabbed Sherlock's arms securely, hauling him up and out of bed.

Sherlock grunted, a hand smoothing down his stomach. 'Come on then. He's in the garden I think.'

Sherlock and David shuffled to the garden slowly, their heads hung in shame; one man pregnant and the other replaying the past few hours over and over again within his mind.

Mycroft was out tending to the flowers, Sky watering them as she followed him about the garden.

'Hi, David!' Sky called out, waving at her cousin and sloshing some water down her shirt. Mycroft looked up and frowned at the sight of David and Sherlock. Something was horribly wrong.

'Sky, why don't you go inside and water your own plants, OK? Papa needs to talk to David alone for a bit.'

'OK.' Sky pressed a kiss to her papa's cheek and scampered back into the house and to her room, sneaking peaks out her window that overlooked the massive garden.

'David-' Sherlock took a deep breath, '-has got something to tell you.'

Mycroft looked at David expectantly and David took a deep breath, trying his best to look his uncle in the face.

'I... went to visit my friend Rose... and I went into my first heat... and I... I raped and impregnated her.'

Sherlock squeezed David's shoulder gently. 'It's OK, son. We'll sort this. Won't we, My?'

'Of course,' Mycroft nodded. 'We'll fix this. Do you want her to get rid of the baby?'

'Yes,' David said softly. 'I'm not ready to be a dad. I'm only ten! And... would it be possible to wipe Rose's memory of the whole thing? I don't want to ruin her whole outlook on life because of what I did to her.'

'We'll take you to John later too so you can start on suppressants to stop this from happening again,' Sherlock said softly. 'Though perhaps it's best you visit him without me. I'm rather afraid he hates me.'

'Right. OK.' David nodded again. He ambled back into the mansion and made himself a cup of tea before heading up to his room and starting a warm bath.

Mycroft sighed and looked to Sherlock. 'How are you holding up? You look significantly larger than yesterday. Did they give you growth hormones to speed up the births?'

Sherlock rubbed his distended stomach and groaned as it gurgled unhappily. 'It would appear so. I really can't remember much about my time at the factory. It's a bit of a blur to be honest.'

'I would assume so,' Mycroft sighed. 'You should go inside and finish your breakfast. Take some time to yourself for a while. You deserve it.'

'OK.' Sherlock frowned. 'Greg still doesn't believe that I'm actually me, does he?'

'No. But he might if we cut your hair and you actually talked to him.'

'I shouldn't have to explain myself,' Sherlock huffed. 'You're my brother and you know it's me.'

'I know, but I want my family to know you're you,' Mycroft said with a frown.

'Fine. Just- oh fuck!' Sherlock clutched his stomach. One of the twins was kicking him right in the kidney and it was bloody agonising. He'd been trying to ignore it for David's sake but by now it was becoming unbearable.

'Sherlock!' Mycroft dashed to his side, examining him. 'What's wrong? What's happening?

'I don't know!' Sherlock heaved. Blood began to spill from his lips and he dropped to the ground like a stone. Pain. That' the only thing he was aware of.

'Oh god. Oh my god. I'm taking you to a doctor!' He transported Sherlock and himself to the first doctor he could think of: John.