Hello this is my first story so any constructive criticism or ideas are always appreciated. :)
Molly sat opposite Sherlock on the dingy green armchair that once belonged to her father. Sherlock had not moved from his upright and rigid position on the sofa since arriving at the flat, his eyes were tightly scrunched and his mouth was forming words without the accompanying sound. Molly had observed this behaviour a few times whilst the morgue, Sherlock had referred to it as entering his mind palace, something he had only done if the case was particularly interesting. Her nerves were already highly strung from the anxiousness of their risky plan, so when Molly had found out Sherlock was actually injured during the stunt, so much so he would not be able to continue with leaving London like his original plan; she just about had a nervous breakdown.
She rubbed her temples trying to relieve some of the stress, Sherlock had gotten a few of his homeless network in on the plan and paid them to take his 'body' straight to the morgue, after they put on a brief show of attempting to resuscitate him to keep up appearances. Molly had been waiting with the antidote of the drug they had used to make Sherlock appear dead. As soon as the wheeled Sherlock in, the three men left without a word or second glance, leaving Molly alone in the morgue with a 'dead' Sherlock. She had wasted no time in injecting the serum, and perched herself on a table waiting for Sherlock to come round. As Molly watched Sherlock she realised something had gone slightly wrong, she quickly hopped down from her perch and gave Sherlock leg a closer look, his left shin was definitely broken, she winced it appeared that both the tibia and fibula were clean snapped in half. There was no way he would be walking out of here with a leg like that Molly thought. Molly glanced at his face, it confirmed he was still unconscious, biting her lip Molly prayed that he would stay that way for 5 more minutes; she moved his gurney to the back of the lap so it could not be seen from the door, she the rushed out of her Morgue locking the door behind her. She ran up the stairs, she couldn't cope with just standing still with so much adrenaline pumping through her blood stream. Once reaching the 2nd floor of the hospital she made a beeline for the storage cupboard, with a cautious gaze thrown around she punched in the hospital code and entered. Quickly she gathered bandages, painkillers and a few other items she thought may be of use. Shoving the lot in her bag she raced back down to the morgue and…
"Molly" A rough voice sounded from the sofa drawing Molly out of her flashback. She looked up to meet his eyes, his expression was that of boredom with a slight sneer, but in his eyes she could easily see the sadness and a touch of pain. She decided not to call him out on it though and waited expectantly.
"I think I could use a coffee" She sighed quietly, but nodded, getting to her feet. She never had really expected him to pore out a whole lot of feelings to her, and in all honesty it was sort of nice having some normalcy in this whole situation, but she was sure he wasn't doing it to make her feel better.
"So… what's next?" She asked quietly keeping her eyes on the kettle as it boiled
"Well after the coffee, I can see you are tired, so you will go to sleep and I will stay out here" Sherlock muttered back to her
"No that's ugh... not what I… um meant. I... I…" She took a deep breath he was in her house, a place where she should, no, had control. "I mean what is going to happen now? With the plan, obviously your broken leg is going to keep you from continuing at this point in time… You can stay here for as long as you need, but are you going to?" she questioned her voice loud and strong, quietened on the last few words.
The kettle flicked off, so Molly busied herself with making the coffee and a tea for herself.
"Black with two sugars" Sherlock stated from the living room
"I know" Molly muttered back shooting a glare and the back of the longue.
Balancing the two cups in her hand, she passed one to Sherlock and resumed her spot in the armchair opposite. "So?"
"So what?"
"Are you going to answer my question?" She huffed; he knew full well what she meant
"Yes."
…
"Yes, that is my answer I will be staying in your flat until I can go ahead with my original plan"
"Alright then…" Molly looked down at his leg "I will get some proper supplies from the hospital tomorrow, but that will have to do, at least until the swelling goes down anyway." Molly glanced up "I thought you'd said everything was perfectly in position?"
"It was, I just slightly miscalculated the wind force, it could have easily been avoided but I didn't exactly have much time for a practice jump did I?" He stated slightly defensive
Molly just hummed in acknowledgement choosing not to get into an argument about it, too late now.
"Well, I'm going to bed… Are you… Are you sure you don't need a bed? At least let me give you so blankets and a pillow…" she said slightly unsure of herself.
"No need, I will not be sleeping tonight much anyway" he drawled
Molly silently agreed with this notion it was already 4am and she was completely worn out physically and mentally, but the guilt of the secret she now had to keep from those who loved Sherlock would keep her awake for some time to come, she could feel it heavily settling in her stomach.
"Goodnight Sherlock" She said quietly
He looked up observing her, and gave a quick nod.
Molly trudged to her room, she certainly could not complain of her life being boring any more.
Let me know what you think :) I'll try to get another chapter up within the week. Not sure where its going yet, may end up as a short story or a bit of a novel. I shall wait a see. I'm a massive Sherlolly fan although I do get my dose of Johnlock, but this story with be only bromance if John comes into it. Thanks for reading