I deleted my other story as youve proabbly realised. It just didnt work. A series of 'moments' from my head that go on in the sherlcok/molly household.
DISCLAIMER: i dont own sherlock obviously, I wouldnt be writing here.
Enjoy!
He falls of the building and time seems to stop. Molly screams as his body crushes against the hard pavement. She hears the bones crunch against the flagstone. So much blood.
They took his pulse as she screams over and over again when he is declared… dead.
She wakes up. Cold sweat sticks to her back as she gasps.
Sherlock's alive.
He's downstairs, you had planned this with him.
So why the nightmares?
She yawns, it's a Saturday today. One of her very rare days off.
With a groan she pulls on her pink fluffy dressing gown.
Its 6 in the morning, so why is she awake?
Violin melodies flow through the house as she sits to listen to him play.
It's beautiful really.
She opens the door pads downstairs and the tune stops.
"Morning."
"Hmm" He replies. He's reading compositions. His eyebrows are arched in concentration.
He looks adorable.
She turns the kettle on and blearily rubs her eyes.
"Why are you tired?" He asks.
"Because I had a late night". She replies
He doesn't reply. Last night Sherlock Holmes had 'died' she was the only one who knew the truth.
"Want one?" She asks signifying to the untouched tea she was about to make.
"Err. Coffee. Black-"
"I know."
She starts the process, and produces it to him.
He moves the compositions clean out of the way of the coffee. He knew what Molly was like.
"Thanks."
Since they had shared 'something' as Molly would put it, he tried to be polite as he could. He was living in her house after all.
"You welcome."
"Why do you have nightmares?" He asks again. He's not looking at her.
"How do you-"There's no point finishing this. He notices everything.
"I just asked you a question." He reminds her.
"I know."
"Well?" he questions. He seems kind of concerned.
"You keep dying." She whispers.
"I never did." He replies
She shakes it off.
"No, in my dream you actually die! Like dead!"
He stops; he stops looking at his composition and stares at her.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
She shivers and wants to give him her biggest smile. It doesn't rise to her face.
It stays in her mind like a Cheshire cat.
His mouth twitches.
"If it helps. I'm alive."
She laughs, a dry and sadistic laugh, but it's a laugh all the same.
"Thank god."
"So….." She's about to open the fridge until his voice cuts in.
"You might not want to open that."
She grumbles. She has to resist the urge not to open it, just out of temptation. But no she sits down on her sofa shivering.
"How can you be warm? It's freezing."
He shrugs and continues
She hugs a pillow to herself and listens to the world outside.
"I need to go get food. See you later."
He frowns and looks up from his work.
"Err… Molly?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks. Eye contact is avoided.
"I'm fine."
He nods
"Bye then."
"Bye."
She still hasn't left.
"Bye?" She says.
"Yes." He looks at her like she's mad.
She realises the silence and awkwardly goes, leaving the dead man in the house.
Liked it hated it? Loved it! chapter 2 will be up tomorow. :)