Author's note : Hello friends! Finally, an idea for a new story struck me and here's the first chapter. I hope you like it as much as Bottled up inside. A big thank you to all of you who reviewed and added my previous fic to your alerts and favourites. I can only hope that you stand by me this time too.

One thing that I must mention is that this is loosely based on a movie I saw called Khamoshi (meaning Silence). It's just a beautiful story, waiting to be told.

Disclaimer : Sir Acd, Mofftiss and Asit Sen ( the writer of Khamoshi) are the true owners of everything. I am just a humble admirer of their great work.

She still remembered him standing in her office, asking for her help. His eyes were filled with tears, something she had never seen before.

Indeed, he looked more human than ever. It was as if something inside him had broken, revealing him to be just like others. Vulnerable and visibly disturbed at the prospect of such a premature and disgraceful death. She had marvelled at his plan, wondering how on earth such brilliant things struck his mind. What he had planned took care of everything and everyone and had no loopholes, at least none showed themselves to her. Her heart had thundered in her ribcage when he had finally gone up to the rooftop of St. Bart's to confront his nemesis and eventually jump to his supposed death as he had rightly forseen.

Everything she would need to resuscitate him was ready. Her heart stopped when she saw his coat billowing as he fell, as graceful as shut her eyes, unable to watch him lying on the ground, even though his fall had been broken by the huge truck carrying the hospital's laundry. Soon enough, he was wheeled into the morgue, declared dead due to the clearly absent pulse.

She shut the doors of the morgue and walked towards the body slab on which the newly deceased world's only consulting detective was currently sitting.

What took her by surprise, however, was that he was shaking. He attempted to stop when she approached him but she simply put her arms around him which led him to break down completely. He sobbed in her arms for what seemed like hours and she simply held him close, her small hands rubbing soothing circles on his back.

He managed to choke out some incorrigible words in between sobs and she could make out a few words like John, , Lestrade and Mycroft. Tears had welled up in her eyes too and they flowed freely down her cheeks. It was just heart-breaking to see Sherlock, the man of iron will, the cleverest man she had ever known and who had always seemed to be made of stone, break down thus in front of her.

Eventually he calmed down. He gulped down the glass of water she offered him and spoke in his usual manner, brisk and nonchalant.

'Everything went well, I suppose. John is certain that I am no more and hence Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and the Yard will surely know that too. Mycroft knows about the plan because I'll be needing his help to bring down Moriarty's network. Moriarty is surely dead as he shot himself through the head. He couldn't possibly survive that. Only one problem remains. That's you' he concluded, looking at her in a way like never before.

'I beg your pardon? Me?' she said loudly. Too loudly. Anger was starting to rise within her. If he couldn't be grateful even after she had saved his life...

'Don't get me wrong, Molly. Moriarty's men are sure to come after you when they realise that I'm alive. You are not really safe here anymore' he muttered, more to himself than to her.

'What should I do then?' she asked, worried now. She hadn't thought of this at all. Sherlock was still contemplating, his eyes closed and his palms joined, resting on his chin, as if in prayer. Suddenly, his eyes opened and he gazed at her intensely.

'When I asked you to help me, I hadn't really anticipated this. If I had I probably wouldn't have dragged you into this. And now you're another possible target-'

'Sherlock, even if you had told me, I doubt I'd have refrained from helping you. How could I? You needed my help. As far as my sefety is concerned, I think I'll be able to manage-' she said but he cut her off.

'Molly, you have no idea how dangerous these people are. Moriarty used you to get to me when you were merely infatuated. Imagine what they would do to you if they found out you're the reason their leader is dead and I'm alive. No. You must leave London' he said dismissively.

'What about my job? My friends?' she argued but one look from him silenced her. It was obvious that the things she had just mentioned were very insignificant as compared to the things that mattered.

'I'll have a talk with Mycroft. He'll provide you with the necessary documents. It'd be best if you leave the country altogether. By tomorrow evening, there'll be no records that anyone called Molly Hooper ever existed. He'll give you a new identity and a new place to start your life afresh, as someone else. You-'

'Stop it Sherlock! You can't do this! Just because there's a slight possibility that someone may come and attack me, doesn't mean that you can take away my existence from me!' she exclaimed angrily.

He said nothing but advanced towards her. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard, looking absolutely livid.

'Don't you understand? They will torture and kill you to get information about me. I've endangered too many lives Molly, just by being close to people. I always say that alone is what protects me but alone is what,in fact, protects them' he said to her very quietly.

'Does that mean that I am to change my name forever? Live as another person from now on? Forget 31 years of my life as Molly Hooper?' she asked defiantly.

'No Molly. Though that would make things a lot easier, I really can't ask for that much from you. I can only promise you that your identity and job will both be restored as soon as I return to London and resume my old life in a few years after having taken down Moriarty's huge network that is thankfully restricted to Europe' he said.

'I'll do it' she said quietly. After all this was Sherlock. If there was anyone she could trust to keep their promise, it was him. What did a couple of years matter, if Moriarty's network was going to be taken down in return? Sherlock was working for the greater good. If she was destined to be a pawn in this great game, so be it.

'Thank you Molly. You wouldn't believe how grateful I am' saying so, he suddenly pulled her into a bear hug. She was too surprised to hug him back and even more so when she heard the words he whispered in her ear.

'I've already lost John, and Lestrade. I don't want to lose you too, Molly' saying so, he untied his trademark blue scarf and draped it around her shoulders. 'A souvenir' was the only explanation he gave her before walking away to where his brother stood waiting.

And that was how she found herself at the Dublin International Airport, dressed in skinny navy blue jeans, a white cardigan with Sherlock's scarf around her neck and with short raven black hair that came only upto her chin,contacts that changed her warm brown eyes to piercing blue ones, clutching a purse that carried her passport and other documents establishing her identity as Eleanor Patrick.

A/n : So, here it is!

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Aditi xoxoxo