Too Deep For Tears- Chapter 1
(at the Holmes family's country house, about three weeks after Sherlock played his composition to the group)
When Mycroft Holmes took the phone call from John Watson, he did not expect to hear the news that Molly Hooper was awake and talking. He was pleasantly surprised, and could not stop a slight smile from escaping his usually tight control. So, his little brother's scheme had worked! He knew the next few weeks and months would not be easy for either of them, but at least they could begin in earnest to heal and get on with their lives.
He knew that John and Mary had been working with Dr. Taylor and Ella to plan approaching Sherlock and Molly as a unit. Since they were involved (Mycroft's term - even that made him shudder slightly – sentiment! He wasn't sure about that any more, but kept up a front for his little brother's amusement), everyone on the therapy team agreed it would be better for them to both be present for all the sessions. They'd eventually have shared the information anyway, and this approach could address both their separate and shared experiences. He felt as the others did - relieved that things were finally starting to happen, and apprehensive that the sessions might bring out more negativity at first. Molly and Sherlock both would need very careful observation to keep them safe.
Mycroft hoped Molly would prove to be undamaged mentally and ready to begin therapy with Sherlock. Since Sherlock had played for the group, he had been spending more and more time with Molly, reading to her and closely studying what she was able to do with prompting. She had walked around first her room, and then the whole of the first floor with Sherlock, seeming to notice when an obstacle was in her path, and to avoid it. He read different types of things to her and noted her response, however slight, to each. He had been planning to try bringing her downstairs soon - but it seemed that Molly had indeed broken through her catatonia to interact with his brother.
The little group gathered in Molly's room was still apprehensive. Molly was cheerful, glad to see Sherlock was returned - but had thus far shown no sign that she remembered anything else. John, Mary, and Sherlock decided by looks and gestures, to have Molly go downstairs and share the evening meal, and if she still had not broached the subject of the time she had lost, they would begin to reveal the past.
Sherlock held out his arm and Molly took it. Although they had walked together many times in recent weeks, this was the first that she was really aware of it. Sherlock felt a shiver run through him - anticipation, and if he were honest, fear about what the next few hours in particular were about to reveal. They descended to the ground floor, followed by John and Mary. They went into the drawing-room and waited for dinner to be served. No one addressed the elephant in the room.
Dinner was a time of small talk made with hesitation on the part of everyone but Molly. Each person was aware of the precipice where Molly was perched. She was in good spirits as far as anyone else could tell, and finished her meal. She then rose when Sherlock stood, and took his arm as they walked back to the drawing-room, where they sat on a settee together, Molly's hand tucked into Sherlock's larger one. The others all followed them in and sat around the room.
John began. "Molly - erm, yeah - what do you remember just before you went to sleep?"
"I, uh, I was at my flat, sitting on the sofa, watching telly - I love Glee - when suddenly three large men came bursting into the room. I - oh, god," she said. "Sherlock was still gone, and I - I couldn't get away from them. I remember one of them was familiar - he was one of the agents on my security team! He was holding a cloth with chloroform on it to my face, I recognised the odour - and later I woke up in a room with a bed and I was chained to the bed by my ankle. They said - they said that Sherlock was being held somewhere. Oh, Sherlock! What did they do? How did you escape?" Molly asked, her face looking at Sherlock, worried, like she would cry at any moment.
"I was in Serbia when I was captured. It was the third time I had been taken prisoner, but the only time I was not able to escape within a short time. They held me there for some weeks, until Mycroft found me and was able to infiltrate them and rescue me," Sherlock said, his shaking voice betraying his attempt at making light of things and slight scorn at the notion that he had to be rescued at all.
" Nearly all of that time is very blurry as far as my memories of it go. I must have told them about you - I'm so, so sorry, Molly - can you ever forgive me?"
" Oh, Sherlock, of course, I forgive you! How can I hold you responsible for saying anything when you were being treated so badly? Did you have any serious injuries? I just can't remember..." she faded away on a whimper, looking over Sherlock with the eyes of a trained physician as well as a lover, scanning for any sign of damage anywhere.
Mycroft replied, "When we found Sherlock's location, by means of tracking devices under his skin in three locations on his body, he had been denied nutrition for many days, perhaps weeks. He was given just enough fluid to keep him alive and able to speak. He had several fractures, notably his skull, the right femur, fibula and tibia, and the left humerus, but also several ribs. There were internal injuries, severe bruising to a few organs, and his hands were injured from - other things; but fortunately they healed with splints to his fingers, antibiotics and rest, aided by medication for the pain, which was considerable. It was necessary to do surgery for the fractures. My brother has since undergone physiotherapy for his injuries, and has luckily regained the full use of his hands, as we all saw a few weeks ago, and nearly full use of his body; though he has pain that may well be chronic from now on. He also was treated for the drug dependence, which had reasserted itself when they gave him intravenous narcotics to make him pliable and easier to persuade. "
Mary and John watched Molly carefully, looking for any sign of severe reaction to the news, but finding only concern. She sat there, digesting the things she had just been told, and then looked sadly at Sherlock.
"Sherlock - I was pregnant, wasn't I? When I was taken - what happened to the baby? Oh, no!" she dissolved into tears, clutching her abdomen. Sherlock sat there, holding her hand and looking scared to death before he answered her softly.
"Molly, the people who took you kept you hostage for some time. When they thought Mycroft might be closing in, they gave you drugs to force you into early labour. You - you..." he couldn't continue, tears starting to show in his eyes.
Mary picked up the conversation at the point where Sherlock had left off. "Molly, you delivered the baby, but it was too early. There was no medical support on hand, and I'm afraid that the baby did not survive. You were found very shortly thereafter, and were treated for a systemic infection and also had a D&C performed to stop heavy bleeding which was not immediately addressed by the people who were there with you. You needed a transfusion to replace the blood lost. You also had a pneumonia which was very responsive to the antibiotics, thank goodness. Within a few days, you fell into a catatonic state, and have remained there until today. That was seven months ago."
