Chapter I

It was around eleven, and it was a night of incessant rain. The night's shift at St. Bart's morgue was almost over for Molly Hooper; she frequently checked her watch ... not that she had plans for the night - not that she had often.

She just wanted some healthy relax time in her small apartment in the suburbs of London. After a whole day spent in that cold and desolate morgue she needed it - even because lately the place was even lonelier than the usual.

Sherlock Holmes had not returned for months after the "fall" event. She knew in her heart that he was fine – well, that he was alive of course - but despite this she was still worried about him. And the morgue had never been so boring - at least the visits of Sherlock and his extravagant demands broke the general monotony.

While she was busy putting tubes and equipment in the lockers, lost in her thoughts, a loud metallic noise interrupted the flow of her thoughts: what was that? She didn't know, but she felt her blood growing cold and her heart rate dropping. She stopped and swallowed.

"Stay calm, Molly. Everything is under control. It will definitely be someone from the hospital staff, nothing to worry about, really.", she repeated to herself while she kept on putting some vials in one of the cabinets.

But then after a few minutes she heard another noise. At that point, Molly closed the locker immediately – trying to be careful, not making too much noise - and with the accelerated heartbeat went in search of something she could use as a weapon in case of an attack. In that moment the only thing she found was an ordinary broom... she grabbed it anyway, because in absence of another one it was still effective.

She also found a knife - not very big, but at least it was a weapon and quickly she put it in the pocket of her lab coat. She started to leave the room where she was, tiptoeing slowly, when suddenly she heard another noise that made her jump: this time it was the sound of footsteps creeping on the floor, accompanied by a labored breathing and it came from behind her shoulders.

She turned slowly and... she didn't want to believe what she saw with her eyes: one of the corpses was right there in front of her. Alive. Or almost. It looked undead, still, and it was reaching for her, in shock and speechless: how was it possible? It was far from reality, the one thing she was a fierce believer in. And Physics. And common sense, which she had more than plenty, as any English woman. It was impossible, and the only explanation was a nightmare.

She strongly slapped her cheek but that hideous creature was still in front of her and it was still advancing in her direction. She stood frozen, keeping on looking, but then she realized that everything was real and she had to react.

Certainly she didn't want to die, in her morgue less than ever. It would have been pathetic and unacceptable – of all places, a morgue where she worked alone. She gripped the broom in her hands and lifted it firmly thinking,

"Okay Molly, everything is surreal and you are doing something really stupid, let's face it! Use a broom as a weapon, oh come on …!" she said to herself, then when the creature came right there in front of her waving her livid hands, Molly hit it in the head with the broom. To no avail.

The undead just leaned back and then violently grabbed the broom where one of Molly's hands was resting, stable: she could not let go. She screamed and struggled to break free from the death grip, but she couldn't. She was about to give up, to accept that maybe it was really her last hour when suddenly the zombie was hit from the behind by a blunt object.

A deep male voice broke and the cries of Molly and the verses of the creature: it belonged to a tall, long-haired man.

"Hey, asshole... why don't you come and get me? More meat to eat, isn't it?"

The zombie turned slowly, let Molly out of its grasp and threw in the direction of the boy while he gave a glaring look as he pulled a knife out of his jacket – that weapon was definitely more threatening than the two things caught by Molly.

"You! Get out of here, soon ... I'll take care of this!" He shouted to Molly as soon as the zombie was coming for him.

The girl frowned and gasped to observe the scene. She really had to go and let that guy risk his life for her? Or maybe, she could have helped him? It was simple: he didn't know her, and was on the verge of dying for her. And all she could do, was try to return the bravery of that.

The zombie lunged upon him, and he was ready to make his move but he glanced in the direction of Molly, angry that she was still here.

"I told you to run away, what are you still doing here? It's dangerous for you! For the love of God, get out before..." he didn't have the time to finish his sentence: the undead managed to block him, causing him to drop the weapon.

Molly was bewildered to observe what course was taking that supernatural fight and as seeing the knife fall to the ground she stared at it for what seemed an eternity. Meanwhile, the boy almost risked being strangled and eaten by the creature.

"I must do something. Molly, remember: zombies in the movies, how they should be killed ...? Oh! Of course ...! "

While the zombie was attacking the boy, he realized that Molly was still there - as well as he could, he kicked the knife and let it slip on the floor, just in her reach. It was about a month since he had last hunted, he felt out of shape and the only hope of getting out alive that night was that girl that he didn't even know.

"Y- You still want me to go then, huh...?"she asked sarcastically, trying to not scream.

Molly, with a sudden bravado, grabbed the knife from the ground, rapidly advancing towards them and, trying to not be as hesitant, cut cleanly through the head of the zombie - which fell to the ground with a big thud.

The girl let out a big sigh of relief as he watched the head roll on the floor, but her face was still painted in disbelief. The guy in front of her began to breathe deeply and dropped sitting on the ground, exhausted.

"Thank goodness that I was the one who was supposed to save you!" he sighed, raising his eyebrows and nodding a laugh after.

Molly looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Well ... things don't always go the way you want! I didn't want to die, it did not happen but you know, I was really close to it...!" She nodded and shrugged, then laughed as well.

There was a brief moment of silence and then Molly spoke again,

"Anyway ... I want to thank you for the help, though ... it went how it went, in fact..."she chuckled.

"Oh... I haven't done that much, to be honest. I would be the one to thank you..." he froze for a moment, turning a look at her badge "... Molly. Really." he smiled with gratitude, nodding his head.

"Actually you've done a lot, come on! At first I had a broom as a weapon, yours was much more ... "she frowned - ... "effective." she said, convinced. She smiled sweetly "However, you're welcome, um ... " she pointed him confused, waiting to hear his name.

"Oh, yeah... what an idiot!" he got up slowly from the ground, then spoke again. "My name is Sam." he smiled cordially, holding out his hand.

Molly shook hands with him, smiling "Perfect... not at all, Sam." she nodded, keeping on smiling.

"I will not ask what you were doing at this time of night in the morgue where I work, but... we can just take it as a lucky coincidence." she just laughed and sighed, shaking her head "Such things have never happened here, I swear... I would have ever expected it and it still seems to have been a bad dream...!"

Sam just laughed in turn, looking down.

"I'm glad you don't want to ask ... because I could only tell you that I'm working on a case, but not more than that. It would not be safe expose you more than this already has." he sighed, before continuing. "Night shift, you said? I guess whoever expected you at home must be worried by now... "

Molly looked down at her watch, smiling slightly.

"Yes, I was doing the night shift, and I would have finished here in more or less10 minutes... but it isn't a problem, because I live alone. There is no one waiting for me at home... except for my cat." she let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Oh. I see..." He frowned, clearing his throat and putting a hand behind his nape "I'm sorry... I have recently arrived in London, I had to fight a zombie and jump to conclusions... even if you don't know me, I'm not usually like this." he shook his head, embarrassed.

"Oh, don't worry! It's nothing, really... I'm used to it. Indeed, I'm used to much worse...! You didn't hurt me at all, trust me." she smiled at him, almost softened by his manners towards her. Then she asked, curious.

"You just arrived in town...? Actually I should have known from your accent you were a foreigner. Do you already have a place to stay?"

Sam just laughed "Yes... I am from the US. And I work alone... or at least, right now I do."

His eyes became sorrowful as he thought of Dean and Castiel trapped in Purgatory. He felt lost, he didn't know if continue to hunt or not, until he was confronted with a supernatural event in London. That was the reason why he was there, that night he met Molly Hooper: he needed a change of scenery, even if it was still for work.

He sighed once more. "Actually, no... I should get a hotel room, but first..." he looked on top of himself, twisting his mouth: he was completely dirty because of the clash " ... I should get cleaned up. I don't think they would trust to give me a room, from the blood bath I'm in... I could very well be a serial killer from another country." he sparked up a laugh, shaking his head.

"This is not a problem, if you want... w-well, you can use the bathroom in my house and then go rent the room." she nodded, smiling "Let's be honest... you saved my life. Or at least... half of that." she just chuckles, returning almost serious waiting for his answer.

"Oh, thank you, but ...-" Sam's eyes widened, ironically resembling those of a puppy under the rain looking for its owner. Ironically, because men who hunt zombies in morgues, if they do exist, aren't supposed to magically turn into ten year old kids or lost puppies.

" ... Are you sure that it isn't a problem? I mean, I'm just a stranger who was looking for the creature which was about to kill you, and..." he was blocked by a wave of her hand, just in front of his mouth.

She replied quickly. "An useful stranger. Look, I happened to be wrong judging some people, but ... even though I just met you don't seem like a pervert or anything...! I'm sure you mean well. So no, it isn't a problem at all. Seriously."

Molly smiled graciously, a smile so kind and genuine it melted Sam's heart, which he returned with an equally big one.

"Thanks, really. I will accept the offer and I will come immediately, just long enough to take a shower and change clothes..." he kept smiling, then continued "Do you have a car or usually take a cab home?"

"Oh, um... my car broke down just few months ago. So lately I always go back in taxi..." she sighed. "I certainly can't take bus night lines, it's very dangerous for a woman alone at night."

"There is no problem, because tonight you've got a free ride." Sam smiled, proud of his new car and the fact that it came in handy to reciprocate Molly's kindness. "But before we go we should clean up the mess in this corridor... it's better no one see traces of it. It will be our little secret."

Molly nodded, smiling shyly and then looking him in the eyes replied. "We have a deal! Let's do this."