Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Steve Moffat, Mark Gatiss own Sherlock and his realm. Gaston Louis Alfred Leroux , Andrew Loyd Webber ,Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe own The phantom of the opera 's story and musical . I just own my computer,my version of Openoffice, and my sick fantasies. English is not my native language and I don't have a beta reader, so please forgive the mistakes and the typos.
Phantom white lady of 221b gave me this prompt : Sherlock undercover as a musical performer at some point during his hiatus, as Eric in Phantom of the Opera. Hope you like how I imagined this story !
Gone. He was gone. He had allowed himself a week to repair his broken ribs, to let his skin and muscles recover from the bruises. A week hidden in Molly Hooper's flat, with only a brief escape outside to watch his friends mourn his death at his funeral. During that week, Sherlock has spoken only a few words to her, and not even said a simple "goodbye" before taking advantage of Molly taking a shower, to pass the threshold and disappear, God knows where . When she left the bathroom, she found a simple post-it on the table. " Thanks", it said . Molly removed it from the table, and caressed the word, before reaching her writing desk in the bedroom and closing the yellow piece of paper between the pages of an old book.
Think of me, think of me waking,
silent and resigned.
Imagine me, trying too hard
to put you from my mind.
Recall those days
look back on all those times,
think of the things we'll never do -
there will never be a day,
when I won't think of you . . .*
Molly didn't usually sing in the shower, but not because she didn't have a good voice. Au contraire, she had a beautiful soprano voice, and she had taken singing lessons for a long time, before stopping altogether when her father died and she started University,a few months later . Her father had always encouraged her into nurturing her interests in bel canto, but when he died, every aria, every exercise, every scale reminded her of him, and made her heart bleed a little more. But now, with Sherlock gone, and with no possibility to pour out her emotions to her friends, singing was a way to express what she was feeling. For Sherlock, alone against a web of criminals and assassins; for John, Lestrade and Martha Hudson, who were thankfully oblivious of the sacrifice the man they were still mourning had made; for herself, torn between the loyalty to the man she loved, and the need to soothe the pain the others were feeling, revealing them the truth. So, she sang in the shower, because it was like singing in the rain: none could see her crying there.
At last, after three months of singing and crying in the shower, of checking for John and Mrs Hudson at Baker Street (how dreadful it was, seeing a part of Sherlock's life crystallized in the flat, his microscope still on the table, one of his scarves hanging on the rack, the skull without a particle of dust because his landlady wiped it every single day...), of Greg Lestrade entering the morgue with a perpetual look of guilt and remorse, Molly had enough. She couldn't continue to lie to all of them, without persuade even herself that Sherlock Holmes was dead, only a ghost in her memories and dreams. She told Mike that after 5 years, she had the intention to take a time off - three weeks to visit one of her childhood friend, Jez, who had moved to Wales when they were in secondary school. She entrusted Toby to Mrs Hudson, kissed goodbye to John, and left London, hoping to find a little peace in Cardiff.
The first thing Jez did, when Molly arrived at Cardiff central, was to hug her so tightly, that the pathologist feared she had dislocated at least two ribs. Jez - short for Jezebel- was a force of nature. She worked as an accountant, and in her free time she taught music to a group of problematic teenagers . She was always well-informed about the local music life, knew a lot of performers and attended every concert she could . It was only natural that the second evening of her holiday, Jez dragged Molly to the Wales Millennium Centre, to watch "Hairspray"; then, a week later, she insisted that her friend went with her to a practise of " The phantom of the Opera".
" Please, Molly ! You used to love it when we were at school - your Christine was amazing...plus, there's this guy,Marc...he's spanish, and absolutely gorgeous - he plays Raoul, and-"
" And you're obviously smitten over him...I don't know, Jez, I just want a quiet night at home..."
" Molly, I'm begging you...I think he's nearly ready to ask me out on a date,please..."
Molly capitulated. "Ok, ok, I'm coming...but only because of you !"
"I love you, Molls ! And now, we need to prepare ourselves...quickly, to the Bat-Cavern !"
They arrived to the little theater an hour later, because Jez had insisted to put a little make-up on her and convinced her to wear a nice dress, instead of her usual t-shirt and jeans (" If Marc saw that I'm the only one all dressed-up, he will suspect that I'm interested..."), and the company was already performing . Molly heard the music, and she immediately recognised the song . The man who was playing Eric ( a tall, lanky ginger guy, who was strangely already wearing the famous white mask - it was only a practise, after all ) was finishing his performance .
She saw my loneliness
Shared in my emptiness
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears
No one would listen
No one but her
Heard as the outcast hears...**
Her hearth skipped a beat . She could recognise that voice everywhere; a voice that had made her shiver, and hurt her so many times. The man removed his mask, and she felt his eyes on her . He was wearing grey contact lenses, but the intensity of his gaze was still there. Trying to escape the memories of the consulting detective, Molly Hooper had stumbled into Sherlock Holmes.
Songs (both from The Phantom of the Opera, of course !)
* Think of me
** No one would listen
Let me know what you think, and as always, thank you for reading !
