Title: Armour
Summary: "So Molly, 'The Lion King' or 'Pocahontas'?"
Rating: K+
A/N: Special thanks to accio-feels for beta reading this and making it a 100 times better. [You should really check out her stories. They are downright brilliant]
Disclaimer: In reality I own very little, and 'Sherlock' is not one of them
Armour
She was not sure how long she had running. Two or three hours? More? She had no idea. What she did know was that she couldn't stop. She had to keep going, no matter what.
She was tired. Her body was betraying her, in danger of falling apart. In front of her was an unfamiliar hallway. The bright light was hitting her right in the eyes after being reflected by the white floors. She turned to look behind her but saw no one. But she could still hear the footsteps, and they were coming closer and closer and closer.
Filled with panic, she started running again, fear overpowering all her other senses. Her left shoulder was aching and bleeding from where the bullet had hit her but she paid no heed to it. She just kept running.
After god knows how long, she came to a point where the hallway bifurcated. She didn't waste a moment to think before turning right. An obvious mistake, for all that was in front of her was a big, wooden door will a silver knob. She turned left again to find that there was no left anymore, just the disgusting white walls that graced the hallway.
Tap tap-tap-tap...
The sound of the footsteps filled the otherwise silent hallway. It was then that she abandoned all hope and logic and turned the knob to open the door.
The room inside was almost same as the hallway. Three of the walls were the same white colour that they had been outside but the fourth wall was black. It took her about a minute to realise that it wasn't a wall, but a screen.
She stood there by the door not disturbing the air with her movements. Her breath was a little stable as she couldn't hear anymore footsteps. She leaned against the walls and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down.
Sreeeeeeetch...
Her eyes flew open when she heard the metallic sound. She instinctively looked at the screen before her only to find that it wasn't black like it had been before but completely white.
Did You Miss Me?... Did You Miss Me?... Did You Miss Me?...
Molly Hooper thought she was going to faint when she heard the monotonous and mechanical sound. On the screen was Jim Moriarty, the man she had been trying to run away from. He looked as if he could see right through her, right into her heart. She shut her eyes and covered her ears. It was too much... she couldn't take it anymore!
"No," she cried. Tears threatening to fall
"No!" she called, louder than before, shutting her eyes tighter. Tears were lining her cheeks and she was shaking. It was too much... there was no way she could take it anymore!
"NO!"
Molly Hooper jerked awake. Her eyes flew open and what she saw almost brought tears to her eyes. She wasn't in that room or that hallway anymore. She was in her bedroom. In her flat. Safe. Well, at least for now.
She kept staring at the ceiling and thinking about the dream- no, nightmare.
Molly Hooper was not new to nightmares. As a child, her dreams had been often plagued with horrible sights. Even when she was in uni, the dreams of her deceased father kept her awake for nights on end. As she grew older, the nightmares started coming less often until they came to a complete stop. The last time she had a nightmare was just a few days ago, when Sherlock had told her that he would be leaving and had a limited probability of return. She saw horrible sights of Sherlock, covered in blood, groaning and crying for help until his cries stopped and his last breath left his body.
She flinched at the memory. It was horrible and she never wanted to see anything like that ever again.
It had been a mere few hours after she saw the 'did you miss me' video in her office. Even though Sherlock and others had told her that everything will be okay, she still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling. The cruel face of Jim Moriarty was enough to keep her awake for an entire week.
She was brought back to reality when she heard the glassy tone being emitted by her phone, meaning that she had received a text.
She grabbed her phone from the bedside table. 3 text and one missed call. All from Sherlock. She opened one of the texts and started reading it.
Be at baker street in 20 mins if convenient –SH (Text received: 23:03)
The other text said:
If inconvenient, be here anyway –SH (Text received at 23:09)
And they last text, which had been sent a minute ago read:
I know you are awake. Why aren't you replying? –SH (Text received: 01:07)
If she didn't know Sherlock as well as she did, she would have thought that Sherlock was concerned. But of course, Molly Hooper understood what it meant. Just in case, she decided to send him a reply.
Sorry, I was sleeping. What do you need? -Molly
A minute later, the reply came.
Ah Molly, I see that you're awake now. Good. Come over. -SH
For a second Molly thought he was joking but, after knowing him as long as she had, she knew that he was serious.
Sherlock, do you know what time it is? -Molly
Yes, its 1:12 am. -SH
Yes, my point exactly. I cannot possibly come to Baker Street at time of the night! -Molly
Why not? -SH
Sherlock...-Molly
Ah, Of course. Sorry. Don't worry, I'll ask Wiggins to accompany you. -SH
You won't give up will you? -Molly
Nope -SH
She controlled the urge to laugh when he read his reply.
Okay, fine. I'll be there -Molly.
And with that she got up from her bed and made her way towards the toilet.
Mrs. Hudson opened the door for Molly when she arrived at Baker Street. The older woman gave her an understanding smile and welcomed her in.
"Hello dear, Sherlock told me you'd be coming. Did you get here safe?" asked the landlady, concern evident In her voice.
Yes Mrs H. I got here safe and sound." Molly rolled her eyes before saying in a sarcastic tone: "Wiggins is an amazing companion" gave her a gentle smile and motioned her to proceedupstairs.
Molly hadn't bothered to change. Yes, it was the beginning of January and it was very cold too, but after that horrid dream, she couldn't bring herself to get out of the comfortable night slippers she had worn when she got out of bed.
She made her way through the stairs before she found herself standing in front of Sherlock's flat. She knocked three times before the ever so familiar detective open the door.
"Ah Molly, you're here. Brilliant. Did Wiggins accompany you properly?" he asked in a sort of greeting.
"Yes, yeah he was alright," she said, more to herself than to him.
"Um... good. Now, 'Lion King' or 'Pocahontas' ?" asked Sherlock while holding two DVDs in his hand.
Molly had not expected this at all. Did Sherlock just ask her which Disney animated film she would like to watch?
"Um, what?" was the single thing Molly thought to say.
"Come on Molly, you surely aren't that dull. I asked you which movie you'd like to watch. I'd be happy if you could give me an answer quickly," Sherlock said in his normal, pompous way.
"Th-the Lion king. I guess," Molly said.
"Hmm... very well. Don't keep standing there, take a seat will you?"
Molly did as she was told and sat on the sofa. After placing the DVD in the player, Sherlock took a seat beside Molly and pressed 'Play'.
By the time they had reached the halfway point of the movie, neither of them had spoken. Sherlock followed the movie but seemed to derive little joy from it. Molly, on the other hand, tried her best to concentrate on the movie but the awkward silence, being tired, and the weight of all the questions she wanted to ask made it harder for her to do so.
What are we doing? There is a psychopath on loose and we are watching 'The Lion King'? Why?
The thought troubled Molly. She thought she could read the detective's actions well. Perhaps she was wrong.
Today had been very unusual indeed. If one could call it that. In the same day she had learnt that Sherlock wasn't leaving, that Moriarty was still alive, and now they were watching a film together. The thought again brought her to the same question. Why?
"I see that you have questions," said Sherlock, as if he had read his mind.
"Huh, sorry what?" Molly said, taken by surprise.
Sherlock gave her a pointed look before proceeding to explain what he meant.
"By the way you're fidgeting, I can tell that you have some questions. Do delight me," said Sherlock, sounding uninterested.
Well, he had brought this upon himself.
"Um, okay. What are we doing?" Molly asked
"Difficult question… I'd say we are watching a movie. What would you say?" Sherlock answered, the mockery evident in his voice.
"What I meant was... why are we doing this?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, a little confused.
"Why are we watching 'The Lion King' when we have a psychopath roaming free on the streets? Aren't you, I don't know, supposed to be figuring out something to stop Moriarty?" She answered, getting straight to the point.
Minutes passed she received no answer. Defeated, she turned towards to telly again.
"I had nightmares," Sherlock said out of the blue.
"Sorry?"
"Nightmares. I had them. Couldn't sleep."
"Um, okay?" she stated, but it came out like a question instead.
"I dreamt of him and... and all of you. John, Mary, their child and... you. All dead. All because I made a mistake," he said in such a quiet voice that she thought she had heard him wrong.
His eyes weren't the same bright blue they had always been. They were of a lighter colour, and they lacked the usual spark. She understood how hard this whole ordeal has been for him. He looked so vulnerable. Molly couldn't help wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace. She felt him become stiff under her arms but after a second of hesitation, Sherlock too put his arms around her.
"Sherlock, it's not your fault. None of us could have known that he would come back," she told him whilst drawing soothing patterns on his back.
"Yes, but what if I fail? What if I fail to protect you?" he asked, his voice shaking a bit.
Molly could hear how fast his heart was beating, in turn with her own. This was the closest she and Sherlock had physically been, and she'd be lying if she said it wasn't making her nervous.
"Sherlock, we know we are safe. John, Mary and I, we can take care for ourselves and..." Molly didn't know how to finish the sentence. she searched her mind for the right thing to say before she settled for what she had said to him after The Fall. "...and we believe in you Sherlock Holmes," she assured him and gave him he gentlest of smiles which made Sherlock smile to.
"Thank you Molly... and I'm sorry, you know, for calling you out at this time of the night."
"Ah, no problem. I couldn't sleep either."
"I know."
"How did you...? Nevermind."
"It all starts tomorrow," he said and molly knew how serious he was.
"Yes it does. The Battle Royale," she replied, matching Sherlock's serious tone.
Neither of them said anything, but the silence wasn't thick or unpleasant it was... soothing. Turning back towards the television, they continued watching the movie without either of them saying anything.
By the time the end credits of the movie rolled in, Molly had dozed off. She was woken by the ticklish feeling in her neck which had been caused by Sherlock Holmes's dark curls. The discovery made Molly smile the largest she had all night. She grabbed the remote from Sherlock's side and turned the television off. She rested her head on his and closed her eyes but not before taking one last look at the detective
Tomorrow the battle starts so she might as well prepare her armour.
A/N: Done. Thanks for checking this out. Reviews are always appreciated. -echoesinthenight.