"Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into you're gravity."
The soft melody echoed from Molly's lips as she began to work on a new body. Her voice was bouncing off the walls, so taken was she by the music that she didn't hear the door open and two pairs of feet step inside.
Her voice cracked as she remembered that horrible night on Christmas, where Sherlock had managed to throw everything she'd done for him straight back into her face. Her ear buds were firmly in place, as she closed her eyes reaching the chorus yet again. A slight tear trickling down her face as she belted it out one more time.
She would change she thought to herself, she would make sure that she was her own woman and that she didn't take any more slack from Sherlock or anyone else for that matter. It was time for Molly Hooper to stop being the mouse, and start being the lioness.
"Set me free, leave me be, I don't want to fall another moment into you're gravity. Here I am, understand. So tall just the way that I'm supposed to be." Her voice gave out slightly as she reached the end.
Zipping up the body, she wiped her tears slyly, the dim lights of the morgue, casting a luminous shadow on her and making her appear other worldly. Silently she trekked back to the closet to grab her bags and coat.
The two men who had come in were too stunned to move, not believing what they had just witnessed. John had his mouth wide open, his eyes were brimmed with the slight trace of a tear, which his manhood would not let him succumb to. Sherlock had his eyes firmly on the place where Molly had gone. Never had he felt anything like this, he'd just wanted to hold her to him. A feeling of hot shame washed over Sherlock, as he thought of all the times he had been less than kind to Molly.
Not once, had she ever called him a freak, and yet he had willingly made her feel like one.
"Sherlock?" John whispered, motioning for them to leave. He felt as though he'd stumbled upon a private showing. He didn't think even Molly understood what she had just done.
"Sherlock" John urged, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket. But he wouldn't budge, his feet carried him forward to where Molly had gone.
"Oh for the love of god" John muttered to himself, he really didn't want Sherlock to upset Molly, she seemed fragile enough as it was.
A haze was covering Sherlock's mind as he swept past John, he just felt lifted, it was as though that performance had been a cocaine relapse.
"AAARGH!" Molly screamed, throwing her bag at the two figures that were approaching her. Blindly waving her arms around she managed to hit one of them in the face the slight UFF making her proud of herself. It wasn't until, she heard the amused whisper of Sherlock did she raise a hand to her mouth.
"Oh, my god!" Scrambling forwards she picked him up off the floor with the assistance of John. Her auburn hair spilling all over Sherlock's face. Strawberry and Peach, Sherlock observed his nose getting slightly too attached to the smell.
"Oh god Sherlock." Molly worried, her fingers quick to find some gloves and put them on. Swabbing the bruised part above his lip she quickly wiped the blood away, her intense gaze doing everything to look anywhere but at him.
Huffing she put a plaster on him before swivelling back around to the both of them. The redness in her cheeks unmistakable.
"What on earth were you thinking? You can't just come here at," pausing she looked at her watch. "1.00! In the morning, and scare the hell out of me!"
Sherlock looked on baffled, as Molly showed this rare sign of anger towards him. Even John had a fairly impressed look on his face,
"Well, John and I we-"
"No, save it Sherlock. You wanted to ask my permission to let you stay and work until my supervisor came. Or until I finally decided to say no" Sherlock nodded as a sad look came over Molly's face. "Is that all I am to you, just an object to exploit for whatever purpose you want. I am human Sherlock," Molly barrelled on, unaware of the surprised look on Sherlock's face and the saddened one on John's. "I'm not yours Sherlock, and I deserve to be treated with some respect!"
Hurling past them, she grabbed her coat off the table slamming the door on her way out.
"She's right you know Sherlock." John whispered, his hands gripping the table. "She's the only one who actually argues back when anyone say anything about you."
Surprise took Sherlock again for the second time that night. He never knew Molly defended him, much less thought that he saw her as an object. Granted he did use her lab a lot but Sherlock thought that they had come to an agreement with it.
"For being such a clever man Sherlock, you really are insensitive." John finished before following Molly out on her exit.
"I never knew." Sherlock muttered to himself more than anyone. To think that mousy Molly Hooper even thought that he was capable of being a human being and much less loving him for it. That burning feeling of shame washed over Sherlock again, for once he could actually admit he had done something wrong. But for now he needed to go home and muddle through his mind palace.
Human he muttered to himself. None had ever thought he was before, a sad smile tugged on his lips as he left Bart's Hospital.
Molly hurried down the darkened roads of London, her eyes were overflowing with tears and that burning sensation of guilt was hitting her. God she hated herself sometimes. She'd finally grown a backbone and now she was feeling guilty for standing up to Sherlock. If anything she should be mentally high fiving herself.
Her breathing slowed down as she leant against a road, there weren't much people on the street at this time. Looking around Molly realised she was on a deserted road the only sign a pub which seemed to be blasting 90's music.
Great Molly thought, not only was she in the middle of nowhere she had forgotten her phone as well.
"Stupid Sherlock, stupid, stupid, stupid Sherlock." Her words were punctuated by the banging of her fists on the brick wall.
"Miss?" A worried voice asked the tone light and eerily familiar.
Molly placed her hand on her racing "Sorry, you scared me" Molly began. "I'm sorry agai-"
"Oh, it's no problem little Molly Hooper."
"Jim?" Her voice squeaked out, her night was just getting progressively better.
"It's actually James Moriarty little Molly, but for the sake of sentimentality, oh how I do love that old thing." He mocked gliding her face with his cold fingers.
Think Molly think, her mind was racing as she realised she had no means of defending herself at all.
"I couldn't help but overhear your slandering of Sherlock, rather surprised I must say," Moriarty mused his fingers never leaving her face. "Quiet done idolising him, you see he never really appreciated you did he Molly."
Gritting her teeth Molly pushed Moriarty's hands off of her. "At least he never lied to me!"
Moriarty's laugh was all the response she got, before she felt a needle pierce her throat. The only sounds coming out of her mouth were shocked splutters.
Moriarty gave a sad smile as he finished injecting the liquid into Molly Hooper.
"We could have been special, you and I, little Molly." Those words were the last that Molly heard before the darkness surrounded her.
Her last thought. That damned consulting detective.