Prompt by thesociopathologist: Okay, my prompt is: Khan/Sherlock had his pregnant wife, Molly, put into cryosleep, but he lost her somehow (I don't know, I'm not THAT creative). He finds her again, and she's already had the baby. So he shows up and she recognizes him immediately and reunion-ness. SMUT OF COURSE, M! Please and thank you :3

Here is part 1. Part 2 will be the smutty reunion and some Khanolly/Parent!Lock fun times.

The last time he'd seen her she'd been heavy with child. His child, a son; Augmented from the moment of conception, although they didn't realize that until it was far too late to do anything about it. Molly had cried when she saw the medical charts Dr. Singh had prepared, explaining in far too much detail exactly what alterations had been made to their son's genetic code in order to assure that he, too, would be full member of the so-called 'superior' race that madman was attempting to create.

That had been their last tie holding them to a planet whose population had made it crystal clear that they neither wanted nor needed any Augmented leaders to pull them out of the increasingly shortened cycle of war-truce-war that Earth had fallen into during the early 21st century. When Sherlock had been approached by Dr. Indira Singh to take part of an radical experimental genetic experiment, he'd hesitated as any sane man would. Then war had exploded again, costing him his parents, DI Lestrade and almost Molly, and his mind was made up: anything that could calm the madness, and any straw that could be grasped was a small enough price to pay for the tantalizing goal of peace.

Oh how wrong he'd been, the man now known as Khan Noonian Singh thought bitterly as he surveyed the world into which he'd been awoken. A world three hundred years and a dozen brutal wars, including one that had gone nuclear, away from the one he'd left behind. A peaceful world at last, but one that now abhorred the sort of genetic experimentation that had turned him into a physically superior being, as well as enhancing his already phenomenal intelligence.

Three sleeper ships, each holding one hundred Augmented humans, had left Earth; they'd originally been part of a secret government 'final solution' program created by the American government and repurposed by the Augments when they took behind-the-scenes control of the world in a desperate attempt to act as Drs. Singh and Soong had designed them to, as voices of reason amidst the insanity.

Unfortunately insanity had plagued far too many of the Augments, and ultimately war had broken out between them as well. Khan and his followers had fled, once it was confirmed that Molly's baby was not and never would be a 'normal' human, and therefore would find no safety on the planet where he'd been conceived. She'd submitted to the plan without a murmur, his lovely, wonderful wife, and he knew it was out of concern for their child rather than herself that she did so.

Would she have agreed to his so-called foolproof plan, he wondered bitterly, if she'd known they would end up right back where they started, once again pawns of those who would use them as tools for their private agendas? At least Singh and Soong had had lofty goals even if those goals had proven to be unobtainable at the time; all Marcus wanted was a weapon he could use to design more weapons, in his quest to engage the Klingon species in war.

Once Khan had grasped the basics of twenty-third century Earth technology – along with the intriguing alien tech also made available to him, some legal, some less so – it had taken him very little time to get up to speed. Only the threat of losing those he held dearest – of his ninety-nine fellow sleepers, only seventy-two besides himself had survived – kept him obedient to Marcus' demands. And then only after he'd seen with his own eyes that Molly and their son still lived. He'd noted John and Mary's faces among the survivors as well, and that of Sally Donovan who'd proven so invaluable, but they were the only ones he glimpsed and Marcus refused to tell him which twenty-eight names he should now mourn.

The one thing he had to thank Marcus for was the return of his pre-Khan memories. Before entering cryosleep he'd only retained snippets of his first life; the knowledge of his name and the career he'd built for himself as a consulting detective, his steadfast friendship with John and Mary Watson (their daughter Isabelle; was she still alive, no, best not to dwell on it), his fondness for his parents and even his brother Mycroft, who hadn't survived to join them in their quest…but his revival at Marcus' hands had brought everything back, all of it and not just the bits that had survived his various surgeries and treatments.

He and the others who'd been sorted out as leaders of the 'new race' had been the only ones to lose that sense of self; fortunately, John, Mary, Molly and the others he'd known before who had joined him in the program had refused to surrender their feelings for Sherlock Holmes just because he'd been reborn as Khan Noonian Singh. Equally fortunate was the fact that many records had been lost during the subsequent wars after they'd left Earth, and the only name Marcus knew was that of Khan. If he'd realized who Molly Hooper-Holmes was to him – Khan had managed to imply that his only concern was that the fetus was still in cryosleep, as if the woman housing said fetus meant nothing to him – then the Admiral would have an even greater tool to use against him.

Finally, however, the time had come for Admiral Marcus to get his comeuppance. Khan's first instinct had been to seek vengeance on the man when his desperate plan to save his remaining comrades had been interrupted by their supposed deaths; however, fortunate had favored him for once, and he'd discovered that, instead of being terminated, they'd merely been hidden away, still in their modified photon torpedo tubes, awaiting the day when Marcus could use them as weapons in his war against the Klingons.

Knowing that they still lived, aware of their whereabouts, Khan set into place another stealthy plan of his own. There were very few people he felt he could trust in the new world, but one of them was a young computer genius named Billy Wiggins who had sussed out Khan's true identity somehow – not that he was once called Sherlock Holmes, of course, but only that 'John Harrison' was a pseudonym Marcus had insisted he adopt.

Now, he awaited word that Wiggins had done as promised and replaced all seventy-two torpedo casings and their precious cargo with dummied-up duplicates. They would give off all the false readings as the real torpedoes, but held neither Augmented hostages nor explosives. As soon as the word was given Khan would put the remainder of the plan in place: a computer program would be activated that would reveal all of Marcus' sordid secrets to the Earth government, Starfleet, the Federation government housed in Paris…even a set of coded files would make their way to the Klingon High Command. Section 31, the clandestine operation that prided itself on its invisibility, would suddenly become the most high profile group of so-called patriots the world had ever known.

The only thing that wouldn't be revealed, of course, would be the existence of Khan and his crew. He and his family would go into hiding, then quietly make their way off-planet and once again seek out a new world in which to live in peace. They were too well known as power-mad dictators and genetically enhanced monsters for Earth to ever accept them as permanent residents; even if their so-called crimes against humanity were revealed as the frame-up jobs they were, Khan knew he and the others would be forever be viewed with wariness and suspicion. People would be waiting and watching for them to do anything that might be construed as the least bit out of the ordinary, just so they could then cry "Monster!" and hound them from their homes.

No. He refused to endure that ever again. His son and any other children his people might produce would never face that sort of stigma, not as long as he breathed.

His personal communications device beeped; he glanced down and smiled in satisfaction. Wiggins had done his work well.

It was time for Admiral Marcus to reap the whirlwind he'd sown.