Things had changed rapidly; back and forth.
John had moved out of Baker Street. Gotten married, had a kid.
And Sherlock came back, John solved cases again.
He moved back to Baker Street when Mary lied to him about her life’s story. Moved back out when he realized he didn’t really care.
Sherlock went away again. Sherlock came back after twenty minutes.
Moriarty came back. And then he didn’t.
Mary died- John lost control.
He found another therapist, and then lost her. Dramatically.
The secret Holmes sister was escaped and murderous. And then subdued.
221b Baker Street was destroyed, and then patched back together.
John moved back in. He moved on. He solved cases with Sherlock, the two alphas tried raising Rosie together. Things were okay.
But then they changed again.
Rosie had started teething, and she wasn’t taking it well.
It’d been thirty-six hours since he had last slept, and Sherlock, not-even-Rosie’s-parent-Sherlock, hadn’t either.
They were both on their last limb. Sherlock running out of his restraint from shooting the wall; or running out on a case. John was running out of toys to try and distract his daughter with. He was sure things couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“What do you want Mycroft?” He spoke too soon.
Sherlock paused in his relentless pacing to stare down his brother, standing slightly startled in the doorway to the flat.
Mycroft seemed to finally accept the situation and looked to Sherlock.
“I came to give you a case” he said, gesturing to the file folder in his hand, “but it appears you have other things on at the moment.”
He set the file down on the crowded living room table and moved to peer into the cot where John had momentarily paused in waving a stuffed duck over his daughter’s face.
“What seems to be causing her such distress?” Mycroft asked, still looking at the screaming girl.
“Uh…” John attempted to follow the situation, “she’s started teething. Nothing we do has been able to settle her down.”
Mycroft continued to look intently down at the red-faced infant for another moment before he suddenly asked John to pass him a wet wipe.
“Um… what?” John asked, we was a bit out of it honestly, surely he’d misheard Mycroft’s request.
“A wet-wipe, John. Quickly please.”
John blinked again before turning to the table behind him and picking a wipe out of the package which sat on top of it and passing it into Mycroft’s waiting hand.
John watched as Mycroft took the wipe and rubbed it a few times over the back of his neck, before he swiftly picked up Rosie, tucked her against his chest, and gently pushed her face into the joint of his shoulder.
John and Sherlock watched on with wide eyes as in a matter of moments Rosie’s sobs dissipated into sniffles and then silence.
Mycroft looked up into his companion’s shocked faces- Sherlock’s mildly offended and John’s the perfect picture of utter confusion- before he turned back to Rosie and grinned as she began to lightly pat his face.
“These silly alphas. They don’t smell like your mummy, do they, Rosie?”
Rosie babbled on in agreement as Sherlock collapsed into his chair with a sigh of relief and John slowly managed to wrap his head around the miraculous feat he’d just witnessed.
“You’re… an omega.” John said, staring at Rosie in Mycroft’s arms, trying to correct the giggling baby with the one which had been screaming at him not two minutes prior.
“Why thank you John, I hadn’t noticed.” Mycroft said, but the statement lacked any expected bite as the man grinned at the young girl in his arms.
John must have been more exhausted than he’d initially thought because he was struck by the sudden impulse to forcefully kiss the smile which had blossomed over the man’s face.
“Now,” Mycroft said, businesslike as he turned to Sherlock and John, “it’s all too obvious that the both of you are completely exhausted, and as I’ve wrapped on all of my pressing work for today I’d be happy to offer to watch Rosie to allow you both to catch up on much needed rest- Sherlock, I’m sure it’s been an age since you’ve seen Miss Hooper.”
“You’re manipulating me into owing to complete this case for you.” Sherlock said with a scowl on his face.
“No…” Mycroft returned, “I simply doubt you’d make it another hour without collapse, brother mine- The favor you’d owe me is just an added benefit.”
Sherlock glared at his brother once more but he would be forced to admit that even he realized his body was pushed to its limits, and soon turned to John, question in his eyes.
John blinked again before he realized he was expected to speak now.
“Uh, right. Mycroft that’d be great, I mean… if you really don’t mind.”
Mycroft smiled at him, and really he shouldn’t have been allowed to. John was in no state to think cognitively and the way he reacted to seeing Mycroft smile at him, holding his daughter, while his intoxicatingly sweet smell of an omega permeated the air was extremely confusing.
“Of course I don’t mind. I wouldn’t have offered.” Mycroft retorted, still smiling, before turning his attention back to Rosie.
John nodded. “Right then.” He turned to find Sherlock tapping quickly on his phone. Presumably he’d accepted the fate of solving Mycroft’s case for him and was texting Molly about his new free time- they’d gotten together about a month ago and John could hardly believe it had taken them that long; he’d known Sherlock was attracted to other alphas and with the way Molly looked at him it was apparent she didn’t much mind his status either. Sherlock stood up then and moved to put on his coat.
“Be gone when I get back, please, Mycroft, I’ll solve your case.” He paused, then, in the doorway, to turn back and meet Mycroft’s eyes “thank you” he said quietly. His eyes moved to study John for a moment before they turned perplexed, and then… meaningful? As he moved them between John and his brother before quickly heading for the door.
John turned back to Mycroft then only to find him still smiling pleasantly, now that John thought about it he didn’t think he’d ever seen the man smile so sincerely before- he was sure he’d have remembered- but he jolted, now mildly concerned about what Sherlock had seen in his eyes… why’d he looked between them… like that.
“John.” Mycroft’s voice suddenly pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. “Did you need any help getting up?” his eyes seemed to laugh, shining brightly, and John stared for a minute before focusing again with a start.
“Uh… no.” He said quickly, jumping up. “I guess… everything’s already out here if you can find it in the mess.” He turned to catch Mycroft’s nod. “We’ll be fine.”
“Right. Then I’ll just…”
“Get some rest John, we can talk later.”
John nodded in agreement before heading to the steps, he turned back one last time to find Mycroft bouncing Rosie gently, professionally, on his hip and murmuring quietly to her. He almost tripped.