Hey guys! So I got a little stuck while writing the next chapter of SSMLMHY so I decided to make this!
Basically it's my take of what would have happened if Molly was in the fire instead of John in The Empty Hearse.
Unfortunately I do not own any of the characters of Sherlock no matter how much I wish I did. They all belong to Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat and of course, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
I hope you like it! R&R for me!
Panic. Rarely had Sherlock Holmes ever experienced panic but here he was, feeling panicked.
After spending the day with Molly solving crimes, since it seems John did not want to anymore, he went and picked himself up some dinner. He would have been lying if he said that he wasn't at least a bit upset that Molly didn't want to accompany him to get some chips, but he figured that having to get home to her fiancé was a valid reason. Even if it hurt to think that she had probably finally gotten over him, seeing as he was finally coming to realize he had feelings for her.
But yes, he was scared. There he was in 221B, he hadn't even gotten his coat and scarf off yet and was eating his food when he heard the door to the flat burst open and the sound of John's heavy but quick footsteps pounding up the stairs.
"Sherlock!" John yelled as he ran up the stairs, followed closely by his girlfriend, wait no, fiancé, Mary.
Sherlock, relieved that his friend might be forgiving him but confused why he might be acting like this.
"John!? What is it, what's going on?" he strode quickly over to his out of breath friend. John held up Mary's phone and showed him what seemed like a normal spam email. Mary, who was as equally out of breath as John was, spoke up.
"I didn't know what it was at first, thought it was just religious spam mail, but then I realized there is no book of Molly or anything like that. It's a skip code!" Sherlock's mind immediately went into overdrive at the mention of Molly.
The email read:
"Save souls now!
Molly or Margaret Hooper!"
Just then another message came through her phone.
"Saint or sinner?
James or John?
The more is less!"
Registering the skip code in the blink of an eye he found himself panicked, dropping his now forgotten dinner he sprinted down the stairs and out the door, John and Mary following quickly behind him.
Save Molly Hooper! Saint James The Less!
Save Molly Hooper. Save Molly Hooper. Save Molly. Save Molly. Save Molly. Save Molly. Molly, Molly!
He had to save Molly, he had no idea what kind of trouble she was in but he knew he had to save her. Once he got to the street he looked around frantically for any kind of transportation. A cab or any car would be too slow, and when he saw a black motorbike turn down Baker Street, he put his arm up, beckoning it to stop.
He turned to John and Mary. "Mary, come with me, just in case any more messages are sent they'll probably be sent to your phone. We need to get to Saint James The Less as quickly as we can, it's a church. John keep your phone close and find any way of getting there as well." He ordered, quickly ushering the riders of the bike off, taking their helmets and pushing any money he had in his pocket into the driver's hands. "I'll be back later to return it, I'm not stealing."
Once Mary and Sherlock were both on the bike, he sped off toward the church. Each time he thought they were getting close they would hit another snag, forcing them to take a detour, almost like someone was pushing them off course on purpose. Sherlock's panic was increasing the closer they got to the church.
'Why Molly? Why would anyone do anything to Molly Hooper!' He thought
After taking shortcuts and the detours, he and Mary were about halfway to the church when a new message got to Mary's phone, and a wave of panic larger than before erupted through his body.
"Better hurry up things are heating up here…"
He pressed the motorbike forward, going faster and faster, the worry practically oozing out of him. No one could hurt Molly. No one was allowed to hurt the one person that mattered the most to him. He would die before he would he would let anyone hurt Molly…His Molly. Fiancé be damned.
Winding through tunnels, maneuvering through small spaces that no vehicles were meant to pass through, the fear of losing Molly ebbed away at him.
In the front of Saint James the Less, Molly woke up, surrounded by wood and broken wooden furniture and miscellaneous sticks and branches. She remembered walking back to her house after a day of solving crimes with Sherlock when she felt a prick on her neck and then all went dark. She tried to scream but nothing came out, her head felt heavy and her eyes wouldn't focus entirely.
Everything was dizzy and she had no idea where she was. She heard voices, but they were muffled, however she could make out the laughter of children and people greeting each other. That's when she saw, and began to smell the smoke.
She tried to scream again and again but it was as if someone stuffed a wad of cotton down her throat, constricting her ability to speak and the smoke was doing nothing to help with her breathing.
'Great' she through, 'I'm going to die and no one's going to have any idea…I wish Sherlock was here…'
As Sherlock and Mary got closer and closer to the cemetery, he felt his heart beat faster and faster. He had no idea what situation Molly would be in, or what state she would be in. All at once the Earth stopped spinning and his heart stopped beating when he read the new message off of Mary's phone screen.
"What a shame Mr. Holmes Molly is quite the woman."
Sherlock vaguely heard Mary ask, "What does it mean?" He looked to the front of the church and saw a bonfire erupt to life, as people began to cheer.
"Oh my god…" Time slowed down as he turned the bike on dime to face the fire and he practically threw himself off of the bike with Mary following suit.
Inside of the fire, Molly finally let out a constricted "help!" and the scream of a young girl echoed throughout the night.
Pushing themselves through people who had no idea what was going on they screamed Molly's name. Without a second thought Sherlock lunged at the flames, pulling off some of the less burned parts of it, desperate to get to Molly.
Molly on the other hand felt her strength give out to the flames as she fell limp onto the ground. As she closed her eyes, she felt herself being dragged out of the fire by gloved hands but her eyes would not focus on her savior. She was dragged out of the flames and a little ways away from them.
She recognized the voice of Mary first, who she had met a couple of times, calling to her as if she were in a tunnel. But she knew it wasn't John who had saved her seeing as John was definitely shorter than whoever had helped her. Another voice found its way into her ears though, a deep rich baritone that brought her back to reality.
"Molly," she felt the gloved hands cup her cheeks and her eyes snapped open and the face of Sherlock Holmes filled her vision, with a worried Mary behind him.
"Sher…lock" she mumbled, the smoke still effecting her breathing.
"It's okay Molly, I'm here, right here. I'm not going anywhere. You're going to be okay." Sherlock soothed, taking off his gloves quickly before cupping her face again and rubbing her cheeks. There was a rather deep cut on the top of her forehead that was bleeding but he breathed out a sigh a relief. She was safe…
She realized at that moment that she would never truly love her fiancé Tom, he was just a distraction. The man she really loved and the man she would always love was looking at her now, his face unusually showing the worry and fear he had been feeling. First she saved his life, now he saved hers. "Fiancé be damned," she whispered to herself.
And without a second thought she grabbed onto the lapels of his Belstaff coat and pulled his lips down to hers. He kissed her back passionately, picking her up off the ground he laid her in his lap and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. Not once did he allow their lips to separate as they both expressed the love for each other into the kiss.
The panic and fear he had felt not five minutes before disintegrated into relief and love and something close to joy as he held her in his arms and the same could be said about her.
No more than six years after the married couple of Sherlock and Molly Holmes would tell their children the story of the brave knight who would save the princess from the fire breathing dragon. It was their favorite to tell, and their children's most heavily requested story. Usually Sherlock would end up telling it as every time he would Molly would find tears brimming in her eyes as he said the ending.
"And so… the most beautiful princess, although her dress was a bit dirty, kissed the knight, and the engagement to the not-so-pleasant peasant Tom was buried beneath their love." Their children would always fake gagging noises to which Sherlock would scoff and roll his eyes before taking a break from the story to become the tickle monster. Then he would continue.
"The knight, once blinded by his utter stupidity about the beauty of the princess, opted that night to let his love for her shine through and to never let go of his princess again."
Molly, who would always come up behind her husband, would wrap her around his neck from behind, and lean down to lay a kiss on the top of his moppy dark curls. Sherlock would stand up and wrap his arms around her, hugging her tightly to him, he closed his eyes and allowed her to say the final line of story as their children drifted off to sleep.
"And he never ever did."
So I hope you all enjoyed it! I had a good time writing it. Let me know what you think :P Thanks for readin!
Love you all!
-Katie-