Got the idea for this one while I was dozing off. Wanted to get it out before I forgot. I'll continue working on the other as well. Enjoy!
Molly Hooper was in shock.
She still had the phone in her hand; it dangled restlessly and was on the verge of falling.
He was leaving—something bad had happened, but she didn't know what.
John Watson had called her to say that Sherlock was leaving on a secret mission—and that he would soon be stopping by St. Bart's to let her know. John's tone had left her with many questions—and she felt the panic rise in her chest when he couldn't answer them for her.
The phone crashed to the ground at the sound of the heavy morgue door opening—and suddenly there he was. He looked sullen and for the first time Molly used the word 'worried' to describe him.
"Molly."
His deep voice echoed across the quiet of the morgue and suddenly she was rushing toward him, something was terribly wrong.
She grabbed his shoulders lightly and he slowly wrapped his strong fingers around her small frame.
"What's wrong, Sherlock?"
He looked down at her, his stormy eyes flashing every type of emotion—she could tell he was being hesitant but she wasn't sure what for.
"I've killed someone."
The gasp from her mouth broke the silence in the room—and carefully she took two steps backwards—breaking their contact with each other.
"Why…how?"
"I made a vow, Molly..." he stopped and stepped forward—desperate for any type of affection.
Molly didn't shy away so he continued, "I made a vow to protect John, and Mary—and now the baby... And when that was threatened, I scarified my own life to protect them."
Molly froze, was Sherlock being sent away to die? She reached for his hand, "You need to tell me where you're going—will you be safe?"
He shook his head and a ghost of a smile graced his features, "I came to say goodbye."
"For how long?"
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek, "Goodbye, Molly Hooper."
He turned to walk away but she grabbed his arm, forcing him to stay, "I said for how long."
"Just know that you were always important to me, and you always will be."
He grabbed her hands that were painfully clinging to his Belfstaff and gave them a slight squeeze. He turned once more leaving her with a feeling of emptiness. He turned once more and looked at her before heading out the door—and then he was gone.
Did you miss me? Did you miss me?
Mycroft Holmes froze. Nothing ever threw him off, nothing caused him to feel the slightest bit of panic—but the robotic voice and still picture of the one man who could ruin a nation—did.
He immediately picked up his mobile, calling to make sure other members of the British government were looking at the same thing he was.
After going back and forth—Mycroft muttered the only name of the person he knew could help fix this situation.
"Sherlock."
"Oh, for God's sake. Make up your mind. Who needs me this time?"
"England."
With that the phone disconnected, leaving Sherlock at a loss. England? What in the bloody hell could have happened in the last four minutes to have his exile forgiven and his plane heading back to the landing strip?
He glanced out the window to see the plane approaching the runway and Mary and John still waiting outside the car.
When the plane landed he walked the few steps down onto the tarmac to come face-to-face with John Watson, "Did you miss me?"
John cringed at the words, "Before you go spouting all that off, you need to come see what's on the telly."
He led Sherlock into the black government vehicle and switched the small television on; there once more was the still image of Jim Moriarty and the odd voice coming out of it.
He turned to Sherlock in an attempt to read his facial expression and found nothing.
After a few moments he finally spoke, "It can't be him."
"I know, you saw him blow his brains out."
"He put the gun in his mouth. I was there."
"But no one else was there, Sherlock", Mary piped in softly.
Sherlock turned to Mary his eyes wide, "There's just no way."
"You were occupied with faking your death, you never know."
Sherlock slumped against the back of the chair, if anything this is not what he was expecting. An issue with the royal family, another Irene Adler case—sure… but not Moriarty—anyone but him.
His eyes filled with panic once more and he looked at John with urgency, "Molly. We need to get Molly! If Moriarty is alive, she'll be the first one he goes after."
John's eyes widened in response, "Let's go then."
For the second time that day Molly Hooper was in shock.
First Sherlock had announced he was leaving, and second…
Did you miss me? Did you miss me?
This was a cruel joke, a hoax. There was no way. Why now?
She wiped a few stray tears from her face. After Sherlock had walked out the door, she had burst into tears. She knew it was pointless to go after him, knew that nothing she said would keep him from going—so she had stayed, and cried.
Just when she was finally starting to calm down—her telly had flipped from some government run day-time program—to that of her ex-boyfriend and criminal mastermind, Jim.
Now, she was slumped against the back of her desk, hiding from the world. Sherlock wouldn't be coming back and someone was messing with the telly. It wasn't fair.
She heard the heavy door to the morgue open and the one voice she had expected cut through the silence like a knife.
"Molly?"
"Sherlock?"
She stood from behind the desk, her knees suddenly feeling like jelly. Rising she noticed the detective dressed exactly like he had left her, anxiously scanning the room until his nervous eyes landed on her. The sudden relief flooded his face and he moved toward her.
She jumped in an attempt to reach him and fell to her knees when she was close enough and suddenly he was enclosing her in his grasp. His strong arms were wrapped around her, her nose nuzzled into the crook of his neck. She almost needed to pinch herself to make sure this wasn't another delusion.
"How, why…?"
"No time for questions, we need to get out of here.." he pointed to the telly that was now a chaos of news outlets repeating the same image over and over, "If he really is back—than he's back for me, for you—for all of us."