I Don't Want To Believe

Operation Alpha Male

That night John could hardly sleep, which wasn't really surprising considering what he was going through the next day. Sherlock had pretty much dumped him in his room after the stroll through the garden, and he wasn't requested for dinner, so John spent the rest of his day sitting in his prison cell and wallowing in fear and doubt. They said they were going to use biological components to make the child, not any human reproductive processes because it made 'mistakes'. Of course, John couldn't agree more, but it scared him to think what they might take instead. What if they used this Alpha Male to invade the humans, even though Sherlock had insisted that they wouldn't? What if John, right now, was the key component to a massive plan to overtake the apes, put them into slavery and kill the weak? What if he was the main character of a sci-fi movie, and this was the part when he made the decision to sneak out and take over the ship with the help of his blonde nice alien girlfriend? Well, there were many parts of that theory that were wrong. For one, even if he tried to get out of this room, he couldn't, because for him there was no visible exit. There were no attractive blondes on this ship that he knew of, and the only person that might actually help him escape was Molly, who was so scared of authority John was sure she'd pass out at the thought of escaping. No, Sherlock might care about John's safety, but it was obvious that he cared more about his species and his planet, and he would never let John run free. So who needed Hollywood anyway? John wasn't going to be a hero, he was going to bow down to the superiors and be cooperative. And if it meant the end of his planet, well, at least he'd actually be alive to see it. When morning came, (well, he assumed it was morning, he couldn't actually see outside, he hasn't seen actual sunlight for the past couple of days), the door opened and a very cheery looking Molly entered the room.
"Are you awake?" she asked, even though John was looking straight at her.
"Nope." John sighed, sliding out from under the covers and sitting on top of the very short bed.
"Well that's a shame, because today's the day." she said happily, as if this was John's wedding day or something. John groaned, rubbing his eyes and peeking at what Molly was holding in her hands.
"Are those sheet?" he asked curiously, seeing the thin white fabric, like cotton, with blue speckles. It was obviously some sort of lab outfit, for test monkeys.
"Nope, it's your clothes." Molly decided, laying them out on the flipped table.
"Like what I wore when I first woke up?" John guessed.
"The same." She agreed. "Better than that leather though, isn't it?"
"You can't see through leather." John pointed out, only thinking of how awkward it would be if the Three Leaders all saw through his dress. Then again, he didn't want to think about how it would be if Sherlock did as well.
"Well, they requested that you wear it, and I have some breakfast for you." She pointed out, going back into the hallway (the door was open, if John was brave enough to run through it), and pushing in a little cart with a tin lunch tray on it, loaded with more human foods.
"It looks so...odd, but if it's what you humans eat then you better start, they want you down at the lad in twenty minutes." Molly decided.
"Why didn't you come get me earlier?" John asked, pulling the tray towards him and starting on the eggs.
"Well, obviously you were already awake when I got here, so you were very capable of getting up by yourself. Anyway, you look tired, is everything alright?" Molly asked, looking mildly concerned.
"Oh, ya, it's fine, just kind of getting used to the fact that I'm going to be a dad in twenty minutes." John shrugged, taking a large bite out of some burnt toast.
"Well, Sherlock's happy, I was just by there to give him breakfast, he seemed very excited to be a father. Already picking out names." Molly laughed. John looked at her with confusion, as if Sherlock being excited was a very foreign thing.
"You mean, we get to name it? It's not going to be like...a number letter combination? Patient Zero?" John asked.
"Well of course not, silly, he's going to be one of us, trained like us, taught like us, and when he's old enough he will take to the battle field. Until then, he'll be a normal child, created by science and not nature." Molly decided. John nodded, trying to imagine single mother Sherlock trying to take care of a baby.
"Well, that makes me feel kind of guilty." He decided.
"How come?" Molly asked.
"Well, I can go home once this is done, right? Like, I don't have to raise it for eighteen years?" John guessed. Molly shrugged, as if she knew things she didn't want to tell him.
"Well, I mean, I feel like a child raised by only Sherlock would have many problems, it wouldn't hurt for you to stick around." She guessed.
"But I don't have to?" John asked. Molly sighed again, looking at the floor guiltily.
"No, I don't think you have to." She decided.
"Good, because as soon as I get the green light, I'm out of here." John agreed, thinking of the havoc his family and friends were in right now.
"Maybe you'll change your mind, you know, when you see the child." Molly decided.
"I try not to get sentimental." John shrugged, finishing up the last of his breakfast and handing the tray back to Molly.
"So, get dressed, get prepared, mentally and physically, and I'll take you down." Molly decided.
"Alright then, see you in twenty minutes then." John agreed with a smile.
"More like fifteen." Molly shrugged with a giggle, putting the tray back on the cart and wheeling it out of the room. John sighed, grabbing the hospital gown, or whatever it was called around here, and changing into it quickly. Thankfully he couldn't see through it when he looked in the mirror, but he was sure that might change if he happened to step in front of a bright light. So John spent the rest of the morning trying to make it seem like he had actually slept, washing his face, brushing his hair, brushing his teeth with some sort of odd powder that acted as toothpaste. It felt very dry, but his mouth was minty fresh in no time. Finally when John was nearly finished, Molly opened the door, poking her head in rather guiltily.
"John, are you ready?" she called.
"Yep, I'm here." John agreed, walking out of the bathroom and smiling. "How do I look?" Molly sighed, looking him over as if trying to find a word that wasn't offensive.
"Very, ready to go..." she decided.
"Terrible then?" he asked. Molly nodded guiltily, laughing a little bit before holding the door open.
"Don't want to be late." She decided. John nodded, checking his hair one last time in the mirror before scuttling into the hallway. He could do it now; he could run away, wearing this bedsheet, eh could make his escape, convince Molly to help him.
"Right this way then." She decided, leading John away from the familiar dining room hallway, down the other way, the first hallway he had traveled with Sherlock when he had first arrived.
"This isn't going to hurt, is it?" John asked nervously.
"I'm not sure what their plans are for you, but I doubt it's going to be a walk in the park." Molly decided. "Considering you all have much more deadly plants than us humans, that saying is probably a lot heavier around here." John muttered. Molly hummed in agreement, pulling open a previously unseen door and leading John into a large lab. It wasn't like the one he had first woken up in, it looked a lot more like a torture chamber than a doctor's office. There were two large chairs in the center, with straps for wrists and legs. That couldn't be a good sign. There were all sorts of wires, cords, and unknown instruments laying around on tables, and doctors in lab coats were mingling around, washing their hands and putting on their surgical masks and what not.
"Are they going to cut me open?" John asked fearfully.
"No, I don't think so." Molly assured, not sounding completely convinced herself. John seemed like the first to arrive to the party, so it was sort of awkward when all of the masked doctors turned and stared at him, like he was a fresh slab of meat they couldn't wait to start cutting.
"Mr. Watson, glad you could make it." one of them said with a familiar voice, pulling down his mask to reveal that it was, in fact, Mycroft.
"Good to see a familiar face." John muttered.
"Yes well, more are on their way." Mycroft agreed. "Ms. Hooper, if you would please leave us?" he asked. Molly nodded, giving one last look of luck to John before scurrying away. John felt very alone without her. Even though he knew Mycroft, the big brother to the monster was hardly a comforting sight.
"Is this going to hurt?" John asked nervously, eyeing some wicked looking instruments, not unlike ice picks, sitting on a metal tray next to him.
"That depends on your pain tolerance I suppose." Mycroft said cryptically, and an uncomfortable shiver went down John's spine.
"That's not very reassuring." He decided.
"You are not here on a vacation Mr. Watson; we need you for a bigger purpose." Mycroft warned.
"Now you sound like your brother." John said with a sort of laugh.
"Of course, where do you think he got it from?" Mycroft said, his eyes gleaming before pulling his mask back on and getting back to cleaning some needles. "You can pick a seat John." he decided, waving his hand carelessly towards the two large chairs. John looked around; none of the other doctors seemed to be paying him any attention, so John sat in the farthest chair, with a head rest and places to put your feet, not unlike a chair at the dentist. Except, the dentist doesn't have leather straps to hold you down with, or what looked like a muzzle hanging above your head, and this one did. John sat very awkwardly in his chair, looking at very long needles on a cart, or a wicked looking syringe beside them. This wasn't looking very promising. The door opened, and the Three Leaders all walked in, wearing their most formal outfits complete with capes, all looking very interested in what was going on. They cast their eyes over John for a moment, but walked over to talk with Mycroft in hushed voices. Obviously their hearing was a lot better than John's, because even though they were barely five feet away, he couldn't hear anything but meaningless gibberish. Thankfully the door opened once more, and Sherlock marched proudly in, standing up tall and wearing an outfit similar to John's. John smiled at him fearfully, but Sherlock just stared, as if he wanted to look impressive, and a smile would hurt his reputation.
"Ah, Mr. Holmes, right on time." Magnussen decided, turning to see Sherlock standing at the door.
"Sit down brother mine, don't make a scene." Mycroft snapped. Sherlock glared icily at him, obviously feeling very important right now, because when he sat down in the chair he acted as if it were a throne.
"Are you ready Mr. Watson?" Sherlock asked in a low voice, so as not to disrupt the conversation Mycroft was having with the leaders.
"No, but I haven't got a choice." John insisted. Sherlock chuckled silently, but looked at John with a gleam in his eyes.
"This is your moment, the reason we brought you here in the first place. Try not to mess it up." he suggested.
"That doesn't sound like a good idea, you're right." John agreed. Sherlock nodded silently.
"You do your part, and I shall do mine, and before long, we will be parents." Sherlock agreed.
"And I will go home." John agreed. Sherlock sighed, looking away sadly.
"And you will go home." He muttered, as if he didn't want to think of that.
"Are you two done conversing?" Mycroft asked with boredom, coming over with the team of doctors. The Three Leaders stood by the door, obviously going to be observing the entire process.
"We have to be, don't we?" John guessed, his stomach twisting with nerves. He couldn't see Mycroft's mouth, but the new creases around his eyes told John that the man was actually smiling.
"Yes Mr. Watson, you have to be." He agreed.
"Let's do it then." Sherlock decided, straightening up once more to try to look as impressive as possible.
"Alright, then, put them under." Mycroft decided.
"Wait, what?" John asked, looking around as the doctors started to shuffle around.
"Unless you want to be awake for the whole process, we're putting you on anesthetics." Mycroft insisted.
"What, like knockout drugs?" John asked nervously, looking at a long syringe the doctors were filling up with orange liquid.
"Precisely." Mycroft agreed. "You've been on them before; don't worry, when we first got you."
"What are you going to do?" John insisted.
"Nothing Mr. Watson, nothing you will know about at least." Mycroft laughed.
"Come on, no, I uh...I change my mind." John decided, squirming in his chair as the doctors came over.
"Don't make us strap you down Mr. Watson." Mycroft warned.
"I don't want to do this!" John yelled, trying to push the doctors off.
"You never wanted to John, this isn't your choice, now we will tie you down, you're in no danger." Mycroft assured.
"John, be quiet." Sherlock snapped. John looked over at Sherlock, who was staring determinedly at the wall as the doctors came near him with the syringe.
"What, you're just..." that was the last thing John remembered before the entire room went dark. 

    When John woke up, he felt nothing. He was surprised, he was expecting to wake up without an arm, or an eye, or possibly some internal organs, but no, when he woke, he felt like he had done nothing except take a short nap. He wasn't in the room anymore, the operating room if you will; he was in a very white room, like a hospital room, with white sheets in a white bed with white walls. John sat up immediately, feeling like maybe he had woken up in a human hospital, that this entire thing was some weird hallucination induced by the heat of that wicked soccer workout they had done. Wouldn't that be a plot twist? But no, he looked to his left and Sherlock was lying in a bed next to him, lying very stiffly as if placed there by someone, which he had to have been. John could only guess the operation had been a success. John had only had surgery once, he had his tonsils out when he was eight, and even then there had been a terrible pain in his throat, left over pain that the medicine couldn't help. But now, when he sat up in bed, there was no pain, so either they didn't actually cut him open, or they were just really good doctors. John groaned, rubbing his eyes and looking around the room for a door handle, at least something that would tell him how to get out of here. When he found nothing, John just sighed, deciding that once again there was nothing he could do about it. Maybe they'd leave the two of them in here to rot, maybe they'll run experiments, who cared? John was beyond caring anymore, aliens were just tiresome to be honest.
"John?" asked a very weak voice beside him. John looked over to see Sherlock's eyes open, lying in his bed with a sleepy smile on his face.
"Good morning sunshine." John muttered. Sherlock just groaned, sitting up and running his fingers through his curls, as if that were his top priority right now.
"I can only imagine it went alright?" he guessed. John shrugged, knowing about as much as Sherlock by now.
"I'm not sure, we were both asleep." John admitted. Sherlock smiled at him, a smile that would really look nice on some romantic movie poster, but in real life, aimed at John, it was quite uncomfortable.
"You should've seen yourself struggle." He laughed.
"How was I supposed to know what they did? For all I know, they took my kidney and sold it on eBay." John snapped. Sherlock looked mildly confused.
"Is that what humans do?" he asked.
"Yes, well, the weird ones at least. Black market organs, thankfully it's kind of...uncommon." John decided.
"I'm sure you'll find that you're quite intact, I trust Mycroft enough to know that he wouldn't steal your kidney and sell it on...whatever that was." Sherlock decided, yawning very loudly in the middle of his sentence. John looked around the room, looking to see if there was anything to do in here except have awkward conversation with your fellow parent.