A Lack of Color
He loathes comforting others. But wouldn't you prevent the one that matters the most to you from falling farther into a pit of darkness? Trigger warnings, rated M for a very good reason. Evolving sherlolly.
"Sherlock, do you have the faintest idea as to what's happening?"
The detective was speechless. He wish he had an answer for his brother. He wish he had a thousand answers right now.
"It's not him. I watched him. The blood, the gore, it was all there. It was all there, Mycroft…"
Sherlock stared into the floor, a cigarette between his hands, long forgotten about. He watched the smoke elevate up and dissolve into the air. Just like he wish he would've done years ago. Disappear. Him and Mycroft were sitting in 221B. Never has he been so scared and, and…guilty. Yes, he felt guilty for finally letting people into his life and making them all a target to a network of horrific murderers that liked to watch his world burn.
"You just killed a man a few days ago, Sherlock. The last thing I need is for you to kill another. The network caused a disturbance in all of London, meaning it is my job to find a way to stop them and-"
Sherlock slammed his teacup into the ground, shattering everywhere.
"Then why the fuck did you bring me back here then, hm? Do you want me to sit here and wait around until I know what's going on?" Sherlock was standing up at this point, looming over Mycroft. His right fist was turning white from the amount of force he was using to clench it. The cigarette in his left was nearing it's end, oh so close to the filter.
Mycroft stood up from his seat slowly.
"You really think I don't have a plan for you, brother dear? I want you to think about the ones you care about. Those you truly care about, Sherlock. Does anyone come to mind that might be in just as much danger as you?"
Fuck
"Molly, Mycroft. Molly Hooper." Sherlock was at a low whisper. He was too afraid to say it. He couldn't even look his own brother in the eye when her said her name. It was the first thing he thought of as soon as Mycroft told him. But he put it in the back of his mind, too terrified to think about it.
"Yes, Sherlock. Molly. I need you to take her. Take her far, far, away, to America. New York City specifically. There is said to be a few of his men there, so you must disguise yourselves. Keep an eye on them for me. And for God's sake, Sherlock, protect her like you never want to see a drop of her blood hitting the ground."
Sherlock looked into his brother's eyes. "How long, Mycroft."
"Could be a month or two." Mycroft said, ending the sentence with his gaze to the floor.
"John, Mary, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson. What about them?"
"John and Mary will be in America as well. Not far from you, actually. Just outside of Boston. Lestrade will be in Los Angeles. Mrs. Hudson at a retirement complex in Florida. All will have fake names and new appearances, and under my surveillance."
"When do we leave?"
It's been years since Molly had a panic attack. A true, panic attack. As soon as she saw those dark eyes on the television, she immediately started sweating. As she was walking over to the counter to support her now shaking legs, she started to get heart palpitations. Her vision slowly started to fade as the ringing in her ears increased.
She needed to calm down, But she couldn't. How could anyone stay calm after they know that someone wants them dead? She knew where she hid that bottle months ago. She hid it on herself so it wouldn't remind her of the past. There were a few pills left, that she knew. She would have to ration them out until she could come up with a better plan. But for right now, she mindlessly walked to her office, unlocked her desk drawer, and popped a Xanax.
She didn't know how long she was on the ground against her desk, crying.
"Molly? Molly, please, calm down."
She looked up to see John and Mary. John had his hand out to help her up.
John cleared his throat. "We came here as soon as we could, Molly. We are all sticking together until we know what's going on-."
"We have a spare bedroom, Molly. Mike said to take off all the time you need. Let's go get you some clothes." Mary chimed in.
"Yes, thank you. That would be, that would be great." Molly sniffled while wiping her eyes with her sleeve. She gathered her things and walked out with John and Mary.
