Chapter 1-NUMB
Not all wounds are visible-
"Defiantly a two glass day." Molly said to the empty flat while pouring herself another glass of red wine. Not because of the multiple autopsies she had performed but because once again she had not been able to speak one concise sentence to Sherlock Holmes.
A indelicate snort broke the silence , "nothing new there." She always managed not to sound intelligent around that man . Her, Molly Hooper, youngest pathologist at 's was all ways reduced to a stammering sixteen year old ninny when ever he came around.
Grabbing the bottle and heading to her worn out but comfortable couch curled up with her glass of wine hit the play button to the stereo system in her flat as music started to fill up the flat she sighed again and said nope guess it is a three glass day after all. It had been one of those days...
Her work had went well, she was after all accomplished at her work but that man ! Sherlock Holmes could make her completely flummoxed She knew he could be cruel with his deductions but most of the time she understood that he was only doing that because wanted to keep everyone at arms length. .For someone so brilliant with deductions he really knew little of the human condition and he was human weather he wanted to be or not.
Who wishes he was not Molly? That strong, rich baritone brought molly up short. She could feel the flush creeping somewhere from at her toes all the way to the cheek of her face. God ! She had to break that habit of talking out loud. Turning from the told imposing gorgeous man peering over the microscope she tired to explain. Sorry Sherlock, thinking about a friend..
Oh due spare me the details Molly I am trying to think and would appreciate not to be subject to your bad habit of verbal diarrhea. The files do you have them ? His long violinist 's hand stretchered out to have what he had asked the pathologist for.
Molly had forgotten all about the files that Sherlock had asked for feeling sheepish she handed the required file over to Sherlock . Turning to leave before the tears in her eyes fell she started to walk toward her office. She was all most to the safety of her office when she heard coffee two sugars come from behind her. Shaking her head she mumbled kay and went o get Sherlock his coffee.
Now usually she would go get the coffee and return but for today she took a detour knowing that she needed to compose her self she rode the lift to the top of St Bart's to get some much needed air. Pulling out her iPod she hit play and closed her eyes.
Did you think it wouldn't hurt
did you think I wouldn't feel
when the world came falling down
or maybe you didn't think at all
and that's why I feel what I feel now
did you think I wouldn't bawl
did you think i wouldn't cry
did you think I wouldn't beg you to stay
one of these days you are going to realize
just what you threw away
The harsh notification of a text cut off the rest of the bitter sweet song and jarred her back to reality. Her knowing who the text was going to be from didn't stop her from opening the file.
did you get lost – S.H.
Sherlock Heard when Molly returned with his coffee and since she had taken so long, he decided a slight scolding was in order. Turning to his friend John Watson he said loud enough for even the dead to hear , see John I told you she would not get lost in her own hospital to and from the canteen though why she felt the need to go to the roof since she doesn't smoke , maybe she did get a bit lost after all. By the time his deductions were done he had already turned back to the microscope and forgotten all about Molly Hooper and Dr John Watson. Once leaving his blogger to make his apologies for him (Sherlock would never see the point of such sentiments)
Mortified John mouthed sorry, to the considerate pathologist who had brought not only Sherlock coffee but him as well along with a few pastries.
After the shock of once again being the brunt of a Sherlock deduction, She quietly set the coffee down on Sherlock left side and passed the quiet Doctor his coffee and pastries.
Thanks Molly – At least one of them could be polite and it seemed to put some happiness back onto Molly's face.
Oh you are welcome John, I know you don't all ways get to eat when
Before she could even get that simple kind sentence out, Sherlock pounded a fist heavily onto to the table glaring at both of them, OH DUE SHUT UP I AM TRYING TO THINK!
Now with anyone else she would not have tolerated such behavior in her morgue but it was Sherlock Holmes and all she could do was just close her mouth on that last word and walk away.
Watching Molly walk back to her desk he turned to his friend an pain in the arse flatmate and hissed , would it kill you to say please and thank you and not to shout and a person who is doing you a nicety ! Sherlock just raised his brow a unspoken comment there – that's why I have you – Watson just looked at him for a second more and blew out the word right ! Turning away mumbling about prats and arses he walked toward where Molly was finishing up her paper work at her office. He never looked back and so never saw that Sherlock watched him and Molly through half closed eyes.
After all the time Sherlock and John had spent in her lab she could tell their footsteps upon the tiled floor , not wanting to be seen as weak she made sure her smile was in place by the time John reached her desk. Tiding her desk she smiled at her friend.
John once again found himself trying to apologize on behalf of his social inept flatmate, but Molly stopped him first with her too brite smile and a toss of her pony tail. John, it's Sherlock I know."
Before she could finish Sherlock standing at the door cut in. John if you have finished your insufferable chatting, Lestrade called they found him. WE have got to go.
Molly closed her eyes of course he would have heard her.
The lift's doors were about to close when Molly joined them. Looking Molly over he deduced that she did not have a date tonight, so why was she leaving early?
Molly hated when Sherlock tried to deduce her but there was no way she was saying the truth that she had reached her embarrassment quota for the day and was just going home to hide. So she lied. Nothing big just a hen night ya know. As soon as she said it she knew that once again she had said or done the wrong thing. What had John quoted Sherlock as saying once?
DO NOT LIE TO ME I KNOW I ALL WAYS KNOW.
But before she could change it to something closer to the truth Sherlock had started up. That is not true … molly heard john give a cautioning Sherlock but the detective plowed on, if you had been going out if only with the hens as you call it. You would have taken more pains with your appearance today before coming to work since it now 9 o clock at night all little late to start clubbing I deduce that you are going home to have your glass off wine curl up and watch some sentimental movie till you fall asleep on your couch. Mercifully the lift doors opened and Sherlock walked out carving up the meters with his long strides, with one last apologetic look at Molly John left and followed the tall detective.
Back at her flat sitting on her couch after reliving the horrible day with Sherlock , she allowed her self a small smile. Sherlock didn't have it all right. Grabbing the remote sipping she wine she let the music fill her flat.
I've become so numb I can't feel you
there become so tired so much more aware
I'm becoming this all I want to do
is be less like me or more like you
can't you see your smothering me
holding too tightly afraid you'll lose control
cause everything you thought I would be
has fallen apart right in front of you
every step that I take is another mistake to you
and every second I waste is more that I can take
and I know I may end up falling too
but I know you were like me too
with someone disappointed in you
The last haunting notes faded in the flat but Molly had not heard them having been asleep well into the second chorus. Her last coherent thought was tonight wasn't going to be a good night.
-blink-
A four year old Molly standing in front of her parents silently crying from a dislocated hip from a push down the flight of stairs from her twin Mike and the long week before they believed that she was truly hurt and had gotten her medical treatment. To this day rainy cold days meant her hip hurt which was all most all the time it was London. They never believed her about her brother.
-blink-
Five year old Molly crying from another whipping because she could not hear her Mummy calling for her, and another and another.
-blink-
A fifth teen year old Molly being yank back to the bath room while her Mum was screaming that she looked like a whore and had scrubbed the mascara and pink lip gloss Molly had dared to wear to school off her face, ignoring her daughters tears of pain.
At school where she felt so disconnected to the kids around her for her nerdy, mousy appearance and her dedication to her studies.
-blink-
In uni and Mike sneering that she had to pay to have friends after she had been accepted into an academic society because who would want to be friends with a cow like her.
In the stillness of her flat only Toby, her cat, was witness to Molly sobbing in her sleep praying to what ever god exist to make it stop.
CHAPTER 2-NIGHTS IN WHITE SATIN
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love." NEIL GAIMEN
After picking Molly's door; Sherlock took in what he was seeing , Molly curled up on her couch, whimpering , tears falling down her face , her arms trying to ward off blows that only she could see and feel. Sherlock went to see if her could wake her up from whatever nightmare she was locked into. Dr Hooper wake up , I require your assistance. Sherlock tentatively put his hand on her shoulder trying not to startle the young woman. Molly Hooper wake up. Some where in the throws of the nightmare Molly knew who was there with her frantically she fought that he must see this OH GOD SHERLOCK CAN NEVER WITNESS THIS! And frantically started kicking and fighting for real to get away from the horror-scape that was her dreams.
The only reason he was here was after numerous texts with no replies both he and John ( well John at least) was worried. Sherlock was just annoyed at the delay, but crouching next to the flaying Dr. Hooper, he felt something. Something he didn't understand and whatever he didn't understand he locked away in his mind palace to not have to think about it till later. That was about the time he caught a flat handed slap upon his finely sculpted cheekbone. Shocked he looked down expecting to see a very Molly Hooper but instead saw she was still trapped in the dream.
So To prevent any more damage upon his visage he tried a different approach grabbing both her wrist and pulling them above her head he leaned in a whispered, Molly its me, Sherlock, wake up you're safe, wake up.
-blink-
Sherlock... oh, Molly opened her eyes to find that the mesmerizing tree- colored eyes of Sherlock Holmes were scant inches from her face. A squeak escaped her and she fought to pull her self together from the dream to reality.
-blink-
why is he in my flat
-blink-
why is he holding my wrists
-blink-
oh god! How much did he hear or see
-blink-
I must look a fright
-blink-
why is his cheek bleeding
It was the last rapid fire question that pulled Molly back to the world of the fully awake. Squirming out of Sherlock's grip she rose up muttering about band-aids and nerosporin. She had her slight crease on her brow like she all ways did when thinking to herself. She was chuckling to herself about something when Sherlock caught part of it. John did say he had a bad habit …
With two long strides Sherlock was in front of Molly eyes blazing -WHAT HAS HE TOLD YOU ! He invaded her personal space to get his answer. To Molly he looked scared frightened but this was Sherlock Holmes she must be mistaken. Hmm.. nothing except that sometime you pick locks.
Sherlock felt his customary smirk fall back into place, his secret was safe, oh yes I do saves time. Turning to Molly he put on his most charming smile. I know it is late and I have woken you up but there has been another murder and I need to look at the body, I was hoping …
Molly felt a bit grumpy, glancing at the clock she open her mouth paused as if to not say the wrong thing but settles on what she thought was a safe statement. It is 3 am Sherlock why didn't you text me?
Sherlock who had been pacing taking in everything that he could see, walked straight to her bedroom grabbed her phone and brought it to her with an elegant flip of his wrist he handed it over. I did.
Opening the phone she saw four new messages flashing at the top.
new murder need to see body. SH 1:45 am-
why are you not hear yet? SH 2:15 am
Dr. Hooper what is keeping you? SH 2:15 am
John and I are on our way. SH 2:30 am
Molly looked up from her phone seeing that Sherlock was making his way around the apartment taking in everything that she was away from the lab, She needed to distract him from seeing too much. I'll be down in a second if you want to wait for me in the cab.
An absentminded, No -i will wait here - hurry up, was the only answer she got.
Walking around the flat Sherlock busied him self with making deductions about Molly Hooper ; organized but cluttered ,likes red wine , kept up to date with newest forensic journals seeing the remote he was curious as to which movie she had fallen asleep to and pushed play. The telly didn't come on but music swelled out of the speakers in the flat.
Molly paused in getting dressed as the Moody blues begun to play.
Gazing at people some hand in hand
just what I'm going through
they can't understand
some try to tell me thoughts they can not defend
just what you wan to be
yo will be in the end
Nights in white satin
never reaching the end
letters I've written
never meaning to send
beauty I' ve all ways missed with these eyes before
just what the truth is, I can't say any more
Molly opened her door ready to apologize for her taste in music but the sight of? Sherlock stopped her. He was standing still hands in his pockets eyes closed as if savoring the music. Molly let the song finish wondering if he had even heard it before.
When the song ended Sherlock opened his eyes and went straight to the corner where a room divider was moving it aside he smiled at what he found.
Sitting behind the divider was 2 guitars and 8 wood wind instruments plus stacks of music and a stand . All ways something he muttered but happy with the surprise he had found . Turning to Molly, Sherlock started for the door. Coming doctor?
With a quiet sigh, molly closed and locked the door.
Forty five minutes later they were all back at the lab. Molly along with John were trying to stay awake. Seeing his blogger and his pathologist both drop dead tired. Sherlock knew he had to take pity on those mere mortals that could not do with out sleep. John hand me my coat and head back to baker st you need to sleep. Your cab will be here in 5 min.
A quiet, sleep well Molly, was the last thing she remembered after a comforting warmth had settled over her shoulders.
Two hours later Sherlock had his answer her turned to tell John but remembered he had sent him home looking for Molly he didn't see her either. I am being brilliant here and no one is here to be impressed!"
Heading to her office he falters as he see a pair of feet sticking out from behind her desk that strange sensation is back and he ruthlessly shuts it behind THAT door and hurries into the office. No scent of fresh blood-good – nothing disturbed good- by that time he see his pathologist curled up on air mattress asleep and using his coat as a duvet. Impressed that she has foresight to have one handy for nights like this he decided to let her sleep a while longer. Glad to see that it is peaceful sleep. He knew she had not been sleeping well but he did not know why. Seeing what a mess he had made of her lab he decided to tidy it up for her and let her sleep a while longer. His coat would be no worse for the wear as use as a duvet.
Going back to tidy up – why no one ever thought he was capable of that – he spotted Molly's I pad on her desk. After seeing her collection of instruments and that song which was nice even if it was pop.. what music did molly Hooper listen to? He placed the earphone on and looked at Molly's play lists.
-cleaning music-
-drive time-
-wrist slitting music to make you feel better -
-fuck you –!!? what?
-Concerto in B flat for guitars, strings and woodwinds-
Figuring since he was cleaning up he would start with the cleaning music but realized that cheesy 80's pop did not suit he moved onto drive time which wasn't much better – hair bands really ? The third list wrist slitting music to make you feel better what did she mean by that title ? Had Molly at one time tried – no she couldn't have not with her bright smile and hopeful outlook. It had to be something else so he hit play and just listened for a while...
if this world id wearing thin '
and you're thinking of escape
I'll go anywhere with you
but if you try to go out alone
don't think I'll understand
stay with me
stay with me
in the silence of your room
in the darkness of your dreams
you can only think of me there
can be no in between
when your pride is on the floor
I'll make you beg for more
stay with me
stay with me
Sherlock Holmes , man who could see everything , did not see Molly approach him . he was stilled, the music once again and pulled him out of his mind palace and stilled his racing thoughts . So when Molly touched his arm startled he spun swinging a fist and connected with Molly!
Before she could fall from the blinding pain in her jaw ,Sherlock had pulled her close to his chest. An agonized sound came from some where near his heart and once steadied he let he go to asses the damage and to truly apologize. Seeing the bruise on her chin(HIS FAULT) he looked at her eyes the tears were there but she would not let them fall.
I was listening to your I pod I didn't hear you and when you touched me. It startled me I reacted and I am so sorry ….He went to touch her cheek and Molly flinched actually flinched away from him.
Horrified that he had struck Molly, his friend, even by accident shook The usually unflappable detective to his core. Flashes of memory that would not be deleted ran behind his eyes. he fought to get them back behind the door and lock them up in his mind but the would go quietly.
Just as he has gathered himself together to try to talk to Molly a loud Crack rang out in the lab and Sherlock looked around to see where the noise had come from.
Sherlock you're bleeding ! Forgetting her discomfort she walked back to the tall detective and removed he now shattered I pod from his left hand. He hadn't even been aware of squeezing the piece of tech until the glass had shattered in his hand.
Looking at his hand Molly knew her ghosts were there ready to come and torment her but she didn't have the time right then to listen . Looking carefully over his hand, removing the glass and assessing the damage she didn't realize she had started talking again under her breath. Not now Sherlock needs my help you can rip me up later but not now!
Looking at the damage to his hand Molly knew most were minor cuts but the one that troubled her the most was to his index finger it was deep and bleeding quite a bit. Right at the second joint all the way across she swore she saw cartilage there. Dragging a subdued Sherlock to brighter lights at the sink. She saw that it really was cartilage she was seeing and knew that nerve damage may have occurred.
She then thought of that wonderful violin at Baker st and what it would mean if he never could play it correctly again. Tears threatened but she held them back. She had to take care of Sherlock. Knowing he would not take anything to dull the pain she started the process of stitching him up.
A single tear hitting his open palm broke Sherlock from his paralysis, thinking Molly was crying because he hit her. He tried again to apologize (John would be impressed a part of his mind noted). Touching her back gently he felt her muscles stiffen as if expecting another blow, then slowly relax. Before he could start Molly turned and looked at him.
Molly didn't quite understand what she was seeing. His face looked more- more animated -more involved -more human that she had ever seen it. Oh Sherlock I know I scared you. I know you would never deliberately hurt me like that if you had heard me walking up. It is OK I understand.
So then why are you crying?She watched as her friend rebuilt himself right before her eyes. The detective, the seeker of answers, the man all slid back into their proper places.
As silly as this will sound to you Sherlock, I am crying for your violin at Baker ST. If it hadn't been so sad Molly would have giggled at how his eyebrows disappeared behind his unruly brown hair only to drop down again. A non-verbal I don't get it. Swallowing the knot in her heart and her throat she continued. I have heard you play, john says you are an amazing composer and I am scared that you have nerve damage that could keep up from properly playing your violin. Taking a breath to steady her self she finished her thought. And your music Sherlock is the only time you allow yourself to feel anything.
Feeling his intense gaze on her like she was some unusual lab rat that further his research and her customary response to that scrutiny Molly got up and with a muttered getting some more bandages be right back and an even lower way to go Molly. She left the lab.
When she got back to the lab Sherlock was gone. In his haste he had left his coat behind still wrapped around Molly Hooper.
CHAPTER 3
"I never asked you to earn me. I want only that you should need me. Your path is not one of merit. Bring the recurring desires of your mind to me, every time they emerge. They cannot shock me, for I willed them! Bring me your confusion, your fear, your craving, your anxiety, your inability to love the world, your hesitation to serve, your jealousy, all the deficiencies that defy your spiritual disciplines." Sri Sathya Sai Baba
The ride back to 221b baker st He thought about what Molly had said. She was wrong he did not play to express sentiment or to god forbid feel it. It allowed a part of him to rest to think letting the pieces of everything he had deduced so far fall into place. Still if he could not play he would be losing a large piece of his mental arsenal, but it wasn't his left hand with its blood and stitches that truly had him concerned. It was his right hand, the one that hit Molly.
-blink-
A lanky 6 year old Sherlock reeling from a smack from his imposing dad telling to Not embarrass him in front of guests, before the quest had even arrived.
-blink-
Slightly older 8 year old Sherlock on the floor bleeding from a broken nose after diverting his fathers rage away from his mother.
-blink-
A nine year old Sherlock hold his violin for the first time. A gift from mummy to give him another outlet for his active brain and active hands. He cans till remember the wooden smell of the case being opened for the first time.
-blink-
A stoic some what sad Sherlock holding still as Mycroft and Mummy fix his upper lip where his father had cut him for dropping a piece of toast onto the kitchen rug.
Shoving all those memories away except for the one of his violin, he closed the stain battered door that plainly said childhood.
Sprinting up the stairs he went to his window where it was stored ready if he should need to think something out. He tried to play anything but between the stitches and the swelling he could not assess if he would be able to play at all after this. Damn sentiment see what folly it gets you!