Sometimes I'm an idiot and forget to say that I don't own Sherlock or anything…However, I do own a cool Doctor Who mug that I think one of my friends would love to steal.
I would like to thank the lovely and awesome lilsherlockian1975 for being willing to be my friend and willing to take the time out of her busy as hell life to beta this. All mistakes are still mine however having her as a friend will never ever be a mistake! I love you, shhh, don't tell your hubby ;-)
Important Note: I know I normally write the aftermath of certain terrible events, however this time…Um, yeah, be warned there is some violence.
~*~Unwelcome Wound~*~
~*~Part 1~*~
'What is the meaning of it, Watson?' Said Holmes solemnly as he laid down the paper. 'What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end, or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable'…
~The Cardboard Box by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
~*~Sherlock~*~
Okay, what she had done might not have been the smartest thing ever…But really…What the hell was she to have done? Hmm? What? Do nothing? Not. A. Damn. Thing? Really that wasn't Molly Hooper. Nope. Never.
She refused to simply turn away and continue down the street. Nope, not happening. Though perhaps she should have dialed 999 before she had rushed in…but even if she had dialed the emergency service, Molly wouldn't have waited…Off to the side…waiting as the screams became louder…or worse…became silent.
The safest thing would have been to call 999 and rush home. Where Toby, her beloved cat, waited to be fed and loved upon…but sometimes the 'safest thing' doesn't always make it the 'right thing'.
And to think…Today had started off as any normal day. She got up this morning. Cleaned up an unwelcomed hairball. Gone for a quick jog before coming back to her flat for a lovely shower…and gone to work. Stopping for a huge yummy muffin that made the 'quick jog' deem itself pointless. Utterly pointless…Then it had been a long day of countless bodies and lunch from a vending machine…and of course, the day didn't end there…Nope! She had done mountains of endless and what seemed to be a truly bottomless pit of paperwork.
Part of Molly suspected that was one of the reasons Sherlock hadn't become a cop or seemed to even have that desire was because he had no wish to deal with the bloody paperwork…that and he could pick his own cases and deem them worthy or not of his time…
To be honest she had been smiling then…as she was returning to her lonely flat…thinking about him. Handsome, wonderful, arrogant and such a wanker…Sherlock Holmes. Damn he was fine and no matter how many times she told herself he no longer mattered to her in that way…that he was only and always just a friend…yeah…she would think of him…in naughty ways and non-naughty ways…
Her mind always seemed to turn towards that man. Okay, Molly had to admit it was hard not to think about the consulting detective because he always seemed to be waiting for her…It didn't help that lately the bastard seemed to have a problem holding onto his pens…or phone…
The items would fall and he would naturally pick them back up…Bending over…Slowly…For some reason so damn slowly…As if he were a large cat taking the time to stretch…Of course she watched! Those trousers which she found herself envious of, cupped that seriously sweet bum of his just right…the picture burned itself into her mind giving her something to perv over later while she rested alone in her bed…Allowing herself to think about a naughty Sherlock in tight trousers…with a wicked smirk…just for her. Asking her if she wanted anything from him…or needed anything…
Not that she wanted to think about all that now…
For here she was…Thinking about the love of her life, a love she would never have when Molly heard it…
Again, she really should have dialed 999 or perhaps called Greg…Maybe even Sherlock…At least let him know she was about to find some serious trouble…Maybe…There had been countless things she could have done…perhaps should have done.
But that sound…she couldn't ignore that cry…A cry of pain…A plea for help…
Seriously, she could have done anything other than stop and look at the dark and narrow alleyway. An alleyway that she had found herself ignoring countless times on her way home…
Except this time…well, this time she had heard a woman's scream…A cry of pain. A man's harsh voice calling her a bitch and other filthy things…Flesh hitting flesh…The woman now sobbing…begging…
Molly didn't recall picking up something long and heavy to rush into the darken alley…However, she did recall finding the big man who was hitting…God, a young teenager…Perhaps fifteen…maybe sixteen?
Fury raced through her as she shouted at the man to stop! She warned him…But he hit the teenager again and swung towards her…In response she swung her make shift weapon and hit him hard.
It all happened so quickly. He was now focused on her as growled and yanked her pipe away…tossing it aside as if it was rubbish …Then…he had taken something out of his pocket and she saw a sudden flash of metal…and she knew she couldn't stop what happened next. She couldn't move out of the way fast enough, nor did she have a cool move that could have perhaps saved her…No…
Sadly, there was no way she could have stopped the blade sinking into her flash. Horrible intense pain…Oh, God…The agony of it made her fall backward onto the ground…Hard…
She gasped for a breath but it was hard…and with the pain in her chest…truly horrible…
Was this how she was going to die? It seemed so wrong somehow…so very wrong…
Her eyes moved to look up silently at the man…her killer…
She wondered briefly if Sherlock would think her case interesting enough to accept the challenge of solving it…and how long it would take him if he did accept it. With her bloody luck, the handsome and brilliant bugger of a consulting detective would probably not find it worth with his time…and to be honest, that thought hurt for worse than any knife wound…and laying on the dirty cold ground with a painful, ugly knife wound, well, that was saying something.
"You worthless bitch…" her would-be murderer snarled before he turned and ran…
'He's a bully and a coward'…She couldn't help but think as her mind raced with shock and pain.
Would the girl turn and run now, too? Would she help her much like Molly had attempted to come to her aid? Or would she simply run away, hide like a wounded and scared animal? Leaving her for dead, leaving her to die alone? Here upon the cold ground…and it really was so very cold…so…cold!
So here she was lying upon cold dirty concrete that felt as if it was getting colder by the second as her blouse…one of her favorites…was getting wetter.
Molly couldn't… Blast it all, she didn't want to die! Not yet! Who would take care of Toby or her houseplants? Plus, never to see Sherlock again…ever…no…
Yet, she knew…logically that she was dying…For it was getting harder to breathe…Couldn't quite seem to get much needed air into her lungs no matter how hard she tried.
Molly vaguely heard a scared and foolishly young female voice…She felt a hand search her pockets for her phone…the girl was apologizing and something about how a brute had broken her own phone but that she needed to call for help and hoped she could find hers…
The voice seemed to be fading and she honestly wasn't sure the words made sense.
Oddly, enough she noticed the sound of traffic…The heart of the city alive with movement while she was completely still…
Molly felt her eyes drop as if she had no energy left to do more than that. Red…White…they both seemed so bright behind her eye lids and so very painful.
Even though she knew that she didn't have the strength left she tried to desperately get air into her lungs.
Then…not even sure how she felt about it…there was suddenly nothing but a pure, lonely, heart wrenching darkness…
~*~End of part 1~*~
More will be coming honest, however if you would like to tell me what you think I wouldn't mind...
