*A/N: Alright, after you all waited patiently for so long, I finally give you PART 5! Yeah, be happy! Sorry it's a bit short with no Harry Potter characters, but I've already got part 6 on the way. And to clarify Molly is the daughter of Percy and Audrey Weasley. So enjoy dearies!
Family Part 5
It had been a long day and Molly wanted nothing more than to go home and sink into a nice, hot bath. As she reached the lab door a voice behind her and her reaching for her wand. "You're wrong." Molly gasped and quickly pointed her wand away from the heart of the man standing in her darkened lab. "You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you."
Molly was frozen to the spot. Months of near abuse from this man, and here he was making her feel important, making her feel need. Sherlock turned and faced her now, "But you were right. I'm not okay."
And screw those motherly Weasley instincts that kicked in and she knew that she couldn't let him leave to face that monster alone and unarmed. "Tell me what's wrong."
The words that left his lips had her gripping her wand tighter than she ever had before. "Molly, I think I'm going to die."
He was walking closer to her and wizarding secrets be damned. She was not going to let him down, not like she had with her father. "What do you need?"
"If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am," He tried to dissuade her, probably with some small need of his to give her a chance to back out. "Would you still want to help me?"
Molly finally moved closer to the man, not breaking eye contact. She asked more forcefully, "What do you need?"
Her heart stopped when the only work that left his lips was, "You."
She knew it wasn't meant in the way she had until recently always wanted it to mean, which is why Molly nodded her head in agreement.
It was time and Molly couldn't stop herself from shaking. It had taken her all night to brew the potion in her hands and she couldn't risk spilling a drop. Molly hurried up the stairs to the roof access door and saw Sherlock there, waiting for her. He looked as sad as he had the other day in her lab. Has it really been only two days? Molly handed him the goblet. "Here you go. You have to drink every drop, or it won't work right." Sherlock eyed it suspiciously. "You said you trusted me right?"
He nodded and drank the dark purple liquid swiftly, trying to gag at the taste of prunes and blood. Sherlock handed the goblet back to her. "Ten minutes, Sherlock," She warned, "Any longer and the effects diminish."
Sherlock nodded again, and Molly made to move back down the stairs. But he grabbed her hand. "Thank you, Molly, for everything."
He gave her hand a small squeeze and she tried to smile, but it came out a bit strained. "Don't thank me just yet. Wait 'til we get through this mess. Good luck."
Molly slipped from his grasp and hurried away. She ran from the hospital to the park across the street and waited, her wand at the ready. It was a moment before she saw a tall dark figure step up to the ledge of the hospital roof.
She tensed and ran through the spell that she had come up with for this scenario. But then Sherlock was gone from the ledge. Molly wished she could have relaxed, but him disappearing just added more tension to her body. Then a minute later she heard a gunshot. It was faint, but distinctively a gunshot. Molly was poised to run back Bart's, but a man came to the edge again.
This was also the moment when John Watson decided to make an appearance at the corner. He stopped on the corner, talking to someone on his mobile. He stared up at the figure that had climbed up on to the ledge again. Molly felt tears spring to her eyes, John wasn't supposed to see this, he was supposed to be spared the pain of seeing this.
She checked her watch, three minutes left, Sherlock needed to make a decision and he needed to make it soon. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for what was coming. Spells fell from her lips as she exhaled, preparing for the inevitable.
Then it happened, Sherlock flung his arms out and fell forward as John yelled for him. Molly had done all that she could to slow his fall just enough. But as his body impacted with the ground, she watched both men's worlds shatter.
Tears streamed down her face as John ran toward the fallen body. A cyclist on his morning route knocked him over, which gave Molly the chance to transfigure more blood around the prone body. John was inconsolable, muttering, "He's my friend," over and over again, as people held him back. A couple of paramedics arrived and loaded Sherlock onto a gurney and rolled him inside the building he had just fallen from.
Molly received a call on her mobile not even twenty minutes later, asking her to come in to work.
She sat at her desk for hours, watching the newest body on her slab. Hoping and praying that their stupid, convoluted plan had worked. She knew it had the moment, twelve hours later, when she heard a gasp for air and saw blue- grey eyes pop open.
*A/N: Soooooooooo?
