Molly Hooper walked fast along the dimly lit street, wondering how anything like this could ever happen to her. She was nineteen years old, went to university to study medicine, and got exceptionally good grades. And all that would have to change if she didn't act quickly. She was crazy for what she was about to do, she knew that, but it was the only way if she ever wanted to complete school and make a proper life for herself. With trembling hands she rang the intercom of the flat, and a cool man's voice replied, "State your name and business."
"Molly Hooper. Is this Mycroft?"
"Yes, how can I help?"
"It's a bit much to explain out here, can I come in? I know your brother." The door buzzed and she entered, going up a few flights of stairs until she found the right one. Mycroft was waiting at the door for her, his foot tapping impatiently. "I have places to be, Molly Hooper. What's going on?"
"Well, I've been dating your brother since..."
"February, he told me."
"And I think I'm..." Her voice trailed off and she felt like she was suffocating, as the truth in her words hit her. "Pregnant." She finished, tears threatening to drop from her eyes.
"And what in the world does that have to do with me?"
"I don't want him to know, I want to finish school, and I know you're in with the government. There must be some way you can make it so I don't need to keep this baby."
"Abortion, perhaps? Isn't that the obvious solution? Good day." Mycroft went to shut the door, but Molly stuck her foot in the doorway. "Please, listen to me. I want it to be born, it deserves a chance at life. Please."
Mycroft sighed and let her come in, and she wiped her feet on the doormat. "Well, you might as well. I don't particularly fancy a meeting with our pompous idiot of a prime minister." He showed her into the extravagant living room, and she sat down gingerly. She was careful not to ruin any cushions, but she was terribly aware of her wet raincoat against the green velvet armchair.
"So what, precisely, do you want to do?"
"Get it adopted, but not only that. I don't want Sherlock to know I was ever pregnant. How can I do that?" She waited for an answer, and he tapped his head, thinking it over.
"Adoption, and you don't want him to know? You have to separate from him. Now. There's no other way. And distance yourself from him, even move cities. Countries, if necessary. I'll set up a university transfer so you can get your degree somewhere else. You know how he notices everything, you can't let him see you anymore after you begin to show. Make up an excuse, anything. But he'll know if you're lying, so make it through a letter or an email. And quick. And I'll even ensure the baby is well looked after and attended to."
"Thank you, Mycroft. I can't even begin to repay you. But where do you think I should go?"
"Your parents' house?"
"Well, it's just my mum at home, and she's got my brothers and sisters already to worry about. But I guess I could see about going to Scotland? I've always wanted to go there."
"Well, then. I'll arrange a transfer with Edinburgh university in the morning. Until then, you think of a way to separate from Sherlock."
"Thank you for your time, Mycroft. I'll see myself out."
As she shut the door behind her, her phone began to vibrate. A text from Sherlock.
"Hey Mols. Date tonight? Meet at Bond Street. Love you. -SH."
Molly breathed out heavily. This was going to be the hardest thing she had ever done in her entire life, breaking up with Sherlock. She honestly thought he was the one, she would spend the rest of her life with him, and that kids could maybe come later. But now she had no choice. She was ashamed, even though she wasn't really sure it was her fault. And she didn't want Sherlock to be disappointed with her for ruining her life before it started. She stepped out into the rain, and grimaced. She texted him back.
"I'm sorry. I can't see you again. I have too much commitment, and I've just been transferred up north. So sorry. I love you but this has to end.-Molly xoxox"
It was a good thing the rain was falling down hard on her face, now. She didn't want anyone to see her cry. She went to the end of the street where her bike was chained up, and cycled towards her student flat without a backwards glance. She had so much to do, and at such short notice. She had to leave in the morning, and that meant she had to book a train, pack her stuff, and inform her university she was leaving the flat tonight. Not that she wanted to do any of this. But, as Mycroft said, it had to be done.
The odd thing was, she had grown strangely attached to her flat. It was nothing to be proud of, just a small, one-bedroomed little thing furnished with bits and bobs from the charity shops and cheap second hand furniture stores around London. But it was the memories it held. Her first real party, dates with her first real boyfriend, staying up late with her best friends watching girly movies and talking about Sherlock. And the way she had really found where she belonged, for once in her life. No longer being an outcast. She wasn't popular, but she was comfortable with the way things were. Ever since her father died, she didn't think she would ever be whole again. But London had fixed that.
But now she had to leave all of that behind.
a/n: new story, i forgot where the old one was going and I deleted the plans on my computer -facepalm-
But how do you like this one?
Please review, I'm doing that begging thing again D: -sad puppy eyes-
