Chapter Text
As the cab clattered through the crowded London streets, John once more unfolded and read the letter from his sister. The paper had long ago lost it's crispness as it was taken out and handled and reread, it's contents carefully considered. It was actually short and to the point, much more so than he was used to hearing from her. In it was the address of the boarding house she had managed to find. It wasn't as if he had a wide range of choices. Single omegas living on their own weren't safe or welcome just anywhere. Technically, he could have gone back home to his good natured but irresponsible alcoholic of a father and his sister, whom he loved, but feared was traveling down a similar path. It was the reason he had done what few others like himself had managed – fought his way through medical school and then joined the army. He cared for the welfare of his family members, but he couldn't be around them anymore. As he reached adulthood, he soon understood his well being was in his own hands. For an omega, such a realization brought with it a great deal of uncertainty. Yet, he had attempted to rise to the occasion and had been making his own way ever since.
Harry, he could never think of her by any other name, must have understood. She never asked him to come home. Although, that could have easily been due to the burden that John represented. And, though John hated to admit it, he doubted they could have kept him safe during heat. They meant well, but they weren't people you could depend on for your health and safety. The cab's other two passengers had gotten off some time before, leaving him alone with the complete and utter mess of his thoughts. As a soldier, he had a career, a place to be, but now that was over, and he had to readjust to a world where he was a male omega in an unenviable position.
After what seemed like an eternity, the cab pulled up outside a tall narrow house in a densely packed street. It wasn't a slum by any means, but there was a seediness to the buildings. There would be a house here and there that was spruce and in good repair being squeezed out by it's neighbors with pealing paint, faded curtains and an air of neglect. The road itself was narrow and shadowed from the row of houses on each side. He paid the cabby, retrieved what little luggage he had, and checking the address once more against the letter. He adjusted his hat and knocked on the door of the boarding house.
A plain, thin, middle aged woman answered the door and ushered him inside. Her tightly pulled back hair and plain dress were as severe as her manner. She was firm and business like as she went over the rules. “And there will be no alphas permitted in this house. It's for the safety of all the residents.”
“Yes ma'am.”
“Rent is always paid on the first of the month. You can take meals with us in the dining room. Dinner is at seven o'clock sharp.”
Some of her sternness faded for a moment. “Your sister said you were a doctor. It's always good to have a doctor in the house.”
She called for her son to help John with his bags and show him to his room on the second floor. The son was a strapping young man, John guessed his age at someone where around mid twenties. Like his mother, he was a beta. John suspected his mother employed him as much for his size as any other reason. A concentration of unmated omegas could be an unfortunate draw for unscrupulous alphas. Though shabby, the boarding house was scrupulously clean, which pleased John to no end. The last thing he wanted to do was spend his time fighting off vermin and sickness.
They passed one man in the hall, a nondescript middle aged fellow who nodded affably at the son and regarded John with some curiosity. John opened the door to the left of the stairs and stepped inside. His lodgings ended up being cramped and dark. Clean at least, but there was little else to recommend them. Once alone, he sank down on the edge of the narrow bed with his head in his hands. It shouldn't have to be like this, but it was, and tomorrow he would have to begin seeking employment. He had letters of recommendation, a medical degree, and experience working as an army doctor. He only hoped it would be enough.
* * *
“I'm terribly sorry Mr. Watson, I can offer you a position as nurse, but we don't employee omegas as doctors. It's far too demanding a profession.”
“And yet I obtained a medical degree and served in the army as a doctor. I should think that would be enough to prove that I am fully capable of a demanding profession.” John took a deep breath. He knew it would be hard, but this was ridiculous. The man wouldn't even give him the courtesy of his professional title.
“I'm sorry, lad, but the answer is no. It's against hospital policy, and you'll be hard pressed to find an institution so lax that they would accept you.”
John stared back at the inoffensive looking man who had so roundly insulted him. It was as if John's words had never even penetrated. Unfortunately, it had been two weeks of looking up private practices and hospitals, and the answer was always the same. “No, we're sorry, but we can't employee an omega as a doctor. We wouldn't be doing right be you either.” They always said it as if they were really doing him a favor. His stint serving over seas meant nothing to them. No one wanted to rock the boat, to be the first.
John stood. “I see I am wasting my time here.”
“As I said before, we would be happy to bring you on as a nurse.”
“Sir, I have the exact same degree that you do and experience to boot. How would you like to resign your position and be taken on as a nurse. Good day.” John swept out, feeling slightly guilty about denigrating the position nurses held. They were incredibly hard working people, and deserved far more respect than they usually received. However, he was not a nurse.
Unfortunately, he was running out of options. He had contacted the professor who had been instrumental in his completion of medical school, but Dr. Browning was of little help beyond furnishing him with a reference. John had hated asking him for that much. He was in many ways indebted to the man. Browning insisted that John be allowed to complete his degree when others would have gladly seen the back of him. Browning helped concoct a medication to lessen his heat symptoms so he wouldn't fall behind. But Browning had his own agenda. He wanted to prove that an omega could accomplish such a thing, and he wanted to be the man to take the credit when it happened. He treated John as a laboratory animal of sorts, his symptoms and urges fascinating. He wanted to know what made John tick, how he functioned, and if this could be overcome.
It was an awkward position to be in. Though Browning in many ways supported him, he was just as conscious of John's status as those who would have barred him from admittance into hallowed halls of medical academia. He treated John about the same as well, in the sense that John wasn't a real fully fledged individual. He was an omega, and that was all. John didn't exist in three dimensions, just the one.
He decided to head back to the boarding house. He wanted to check in on Mr. Deads whose heat had begun in earnest the day before. The house's residents, including their landlady, did what they could to help each other, but heat for an unmated omega was a harrowing experience. Knowing that it would eventually be his turn to be tied down, half out of his mind with need, made his stomach knot and sink. He would have given anything to be back in Afghanistan, back in the desert, back where he had a place, and he was a real person. However, even if a bullet hadn't cut short his tenure in the army, they would not have kept him more than another six months. The medication they gave omegas to suppress their cycles couldn't be taken long term without the very real risk of infertility. He would have been sent home and could reapply in a year once his body had the chance to recover normal functioning, but they rarely accepted omegas back after their first stint. It was considered too great a risk.
No, this was his life now, and it was up to him to make something of it. His thoughts were promptly interrupted by a shout from behind him. “Watson? Is that you?”
John swung around to see a plump, vaguely familiar looking man hurrying towards him. It took him a moment before he recognized the face. “Doctor Stamford, I assume you're still a doctor?”
“Yes, yes, an instructor now at St. Bart's.” He beamed at John. He and Stamford had always gotten along well in school, considering he was one of the few that didn't view John with pity or scorn. He didn't necessarily understand what being an omega entailed, or just how difficult dealing with the blatant sexism was, but he had always been fair minded and trusted John to know his own business. “And you back from a war? How are you holding up?”
“Looking for employment, actually.” He didn't hold out much hope that his old friend could help him.
“While St. Bart's might be more open to giving you a chance, we aren't hiring at the moment. I'd be happy to give you a letter of recommendation, however, if you should need one. Where are you staying?”
“At a boarding house. All omegas – been there for over two weeks.”
Stamford immediately looked concerned. “Look John, I understand where there might be difficulty with lodgings, but those places don't tend to be safe. Even if they keep alphas out, they know it's good hunting ground and can simply wait while the tenets come and go. You can't go home to your family?”
“They're hardly equipped. I'll be fine.”
Stamford thought for a moment. “I do know of someone looking to share a flat. A male beta. He mentioned it to me today.”
John frowned. “Most male betas aren't comfortable living with omegas considering, ah -”
Stamford held up one meaty hand. “Say no more, John. I understand. However, in this case, I doubt it will be a problem. He is a bit different than the average beta. Come along, and I'll introduce you.”
* * *
John tagged along with his friend more from curiosity than any real hope. He wasn't sure what, exactly, he was going to find, but he found himself caught off guard by the brusque, energetic man with the wild mop of dark hair bending over test tubes and beakers. A man who, without any introduction, guessed immediately at John's purpose there.
“Of course you're looking for a place to live. You've just come back to England, and you're here with Stamford whom I mentioned the flat to this morning.” He continued on as John watched, nonplussed by both the man's immediate guess and that he didn't seem to want or need any information on John at all despite being a potential flatmate.
“Don't you want to know more about me, before allowing me in your home?”
“Don't be silly. I already know all about you. “You served in the military, overseas – Afghanistan. You were also wounded there, enough to send you home, but not crippling. You're a doctor and an omega, no mate. Your roots are middle class, though you've been experiencing some bad luck lately.” He regarded John shrewdly. “It isn't an easy world for an unmated omega.”
John stared at him for a moment. “That's amazing.”
Sherlock simply shrugged. “The creases at the corners of your eyes suggest you've been squinting into the sun, that combined with your tan tells me you were overseas, most likely in a desert environment. The army does take on omegas in the medical profession, and I know you're an omega by the way other people react to you. The lab assistant is an alpha, and he couldn't take his eyes off you. Your neck is unmarked, and you wear no ring, so no mate. Your suit is well made, but out of date, and your shoes are well worn. You had enough money to buy them initially, but not to replace them now. Not surprising since omegas have fewer career options open to them. Since your tan has not yet faded significantly, you've only come back to England recently.”
He slid into his overcoat. “I hope you don't mind violin playing. I find it helps me think.”
“No, not all.” John replied, wondering how things had come so far so fast. “I am an omega, you do know I will go into heat. Not all betas -”
Sherlock cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Yes, yes. I know. Going into heat is what omegas do. The address is 221B Baker Street.” He added. “I think you'll find the rent quite affordable. I must be going now, but I'll be seeing you later this afternoon. Mrs. Hudson is the landlady, I'll let her know to expect you.”And with that, he was gone.
John turned to Stamford with a dazed expression. “He's always like that.” His friend shrugged.
And with that, John's brief stint at the boarding house ended, and his life back in London truly began.