A Wicked Dream
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Take me I'm alive
Never was a girl with a wicked mind
But everything looks better
When the sun goes down
-Makes Me Wanna Die, The Pretty Reckless
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Molly woke up, disoriented. Where was she? She tried to move, only to find out that she was tied to a chair with her hands tied together in her back. She struggled to get away.
"I see you've woken up."
She froze. That voice could only belong to one man. Jim Moriarty.
"I...I thought you're dead"
"And I thought Sherlock was dead. Guess we were both mistaken."
"What do you want?" she said, trying to mask her fear.
"Relax, my dear. I only want to talk." He moved closer until his face was inches away from her face. " Besides, I missed you. Didn't you miss me?"
"What do you want?" she asked again.
"I only want your help. You're such a helpful pathologist to that consulting detective and I hope you would be the same with me."
"What makes you think I would help you?" she said, disgusted that he thinks she would help her after all he'd done. After all the lies he told.
"Easy. It will be your own choice"
"My choice?! How dare –"
"Calm down, dear. Your temper is showing", he said calmly."I was merely suggesting that you would want to help me. I would treat you better than that detective who seems to never even notice your existence."
"You?! You lied to me about…about everything! You used me!" she said, overcome by anger.
"I used you? Isn't that what your precious Sherlock had always done to you? Manipulated you to get what he wants? Then, what? He ignores you. Face it, dear. You mean nothing to him. You don't count. You're just his little pawn. A game piece he can use any way he wants"
"You're…you're wrong", she said. "He said he always trusted me. He said I counted."
He let out a laugh. A sinister laugh. Whatever happened to the nice man she met at the hospital? The one that, for a moment, actually made her smile? The one that actually made her forget how lonely she was? That man seems lost in the man she sees now.
"You were always such a foolish little girl. You know, when I first noticed you I thought you were a very nice thing to play with. But you were just too easy. So predictable. I got bored. No wonder Sherlock never noticed you. You are just so boring" he said with that annoying little tone in his voice.
"Stop it."
"What? Did I strike a nerve on the most loyal pathologist in the world?" he said. "Sherlock never noticed you. All of those were lies. He just wanted to use you like he'd always done. Do you really believe some fake apology could change that? Come on darling. You're smarter than this!"
"You're wrong." She said as bravely as she could, but the power in her voice was slowly fading away.
"The truth hurts, darling. You just have to accept that. Luckily for you, I'm here. I would help make the hurt all go away. Just say yes. You're mush smarter than they give you credit for. I would make you my queen – not a pawn but a queen. I could even break the chains strangling your heart." He whispered in her ear. "Then maybe you might people might see you as a challenge. They could actually notice you. Isn't that what you wanted? To get noticed? That's why you were so easy to fool, am I right? Because you so badly wanted someone to notice you - for someone to see you for once"
"You're…you're wrong." She said, softer than the last.
"You don't get it do you? Do you really think that playing a martyr will let Sherlock see your worth? Of course not! You would always be that little girl, soon to become a crazy cat lady. A pathetic little pathologist with a schoolgirl crush on a consulting detective that would never even notice her."
"I said stop it." It took all her strength to look him straight in the eye. "I would never help you"
"Oh, but you're already thinking about it. You don't think I went to three dates with you total about dead people and Glee, do you? No, I can see right through you Molly Hooper." He said fiddling with her hair. "The hurt in your eyes means that you know I'm right. You wouldn't be hurt if you didn't believe I was right. You know it was true" He moved closer, looking into her eyes which were now lined with tears. "Am I right Molly dear?"
She wanted to speak. To fight it. He was trying to get into her head. To plant doubts in her thoughts – and she was letting him, because honestly, part of her believed him. She shook her head. She won't let him do this to her.
"No, you're wrong", she managed to squeak.
"Think what you want to think Molly" he said as he walked away. "Sooner or later you'll come back to me"
"Stop it! You're wrong!"
"Molly wake up!"
Molly woke up and caught sight of the familiar eyes of Sherlock Holmes.
"Good, you're awake. You're ruining my concentration" he said. Then he walked out of her room.
She looked around.
It was all a dream.
Jim is dead.
Sherlock is hiding in my flat since he 'died'.
She got out of the bed and felt something in her hair. A small card:
JM – Call me
At the back was a mobile number.
.
.
"I can see right through you Molly Hooper." He said fiddling with her hair.