PROTECTING OUR OWN

Summary: They're different; Molly and Mary. They care about two different men in completely different ways but the one thing that they can agree on is the fact that they have to protect the ones they love at all cost. Which is why Molly felt like she had to dig herself into a hole, and Mary had to discuss her life with a woman she knew at arm lengths.

[Contains both Warstan & Sherlolly]

Set in between Sherlock's near "death" and the holiday with the Holmes.

So this thing has been on my brain for a very long time. I probably started working out this before HLV aired due to the fact that Molly and Mary aren't shown canonically as friends. I think a lot of hoped that they would be really good friends, especially seeing how fantastic Louise and Amanda are as friends outside of the show. We didn't get that clearly, but then this idea kind of flourished in my head after HLV and it cemented into this thing you're about to read. I hope that you like it. It's something I haven't read from anyone else before and while that makes me more nervous about putting this out there, I like to write different scenarios because my brain latches onto these things and I have to get it down. So, enjoy and let me know how I did, please?

Much love,

Day

-x-

It's a surprise to Sherlock Holmes to find Molly Hooper sitting in his chair when he comes home from the hospital – the first time. She has that effect, he notes silently as he struggles to make his way over to the couch and lay down. She doesn't say anything at first, and he is still too tired to be of any use when it comes to trying to figure out why she's here.

Obviously, she's heard about him getting shot. He doesn't have to ask who or what or when. He was unconscious off and on for a long time and it was bound to get down to the morgue and to Molly. She's worried about him. That is as clear as ever to him. Yet, as he lays there trying to ignore the pain that he still feels from the wound that has started to close he decides that he should probably start this process of her inquiring about whatever it is she wants to know.

"You could have just texted me."

She cuts him off immediately.

"You almost died, you idiot." His eyes are closed but he hears the squeak of the chair as she gets up and moves over to him. He sighs and opens his eyes to look at her. She's wearing the shirt with the skulls on it, it's red with black stitching and as he looks down he nods in affirmation that she is off today. She's wearing jeans and trainers. It's very rare that he ever sees her dressed like that. She still has one of her cardigans on though – this one without any print, its cream. He shoots her a smile though it is more like a grimace.

"I'm quite aware of that, Molly."

She runs a hand through her hair. It's down in waves.

She's frustrated with him already.

"Then why would you think I would want to text you to get the information that I need to know? You aren't even supposed to be home but I knew you wouldn't stay there. So, I decided to pop by. You wouldn't have answered my texts anyhow." She adds as she sits on the edge of the table that's right in front of the couch.

"I would have eventually." He already knows she knows that that's probably a half-truth but it doesn't matter. He isn't pushing her away, though he thought about it. It wouldn't do him any good. He would only get her madder. Past offenses stopped him from doing so, and the fact that he liked her company.

Neither one of them says anything for a few minutes. They stare at each other for a few minutes before anything else is said. Then when it starts again Sherlock is the one to talk. "Where do you want to begin?"

"Why were you shot?"

"I think there's a better question you could have asked…" He chuckles but when she calls his name he can tell that perhaps it's her way of not rushing into the thick of everything though she knows very little about it.

"To stop me from talking, not to kill me exactly."

"I don't understand, who shoots not to kill?"

It's either the irony of everything that he is thinking about not telling her that makes him joke with her now. "Definitely not a trained assassin with ties to some of the most important people in my life."

"Sherlock," She pauses, she wants to laugh because it sounds so ridiculous but also like something that could actually happen. Sherlock had ties to a lot of dangerous people, and weird ones too. "I'm serious."

"I know you are." He swallows. He wants to tell her that he doesn't want to bring her into this. Doesn't want her in harm's way in the way that he and John already are. Not that John knows the full story as to why when he woke up he called out Mary's name. He only knew that that was a bad sign. Two of the most important people in his life are clueless as to the woman who brought light back into the life of one half of the most intriguing duos in the world today, but she brought darkness too and it took him to stare down the barrel of a gun to realize just how wrong he had gotten it.

She reaches out and touches his hand, she doesn't hold it but she lets him know that she's there and she just wants to be here for him. As always. This was what she did, who she was with or without him.

Then he does something that he has never done without a rational reason for doing so. He reaches out and grabs the hand and holds it in both of his. He can feel her warmth, and the way her heart raced for just a moment when he does so. "What is it, Sherlock? When you don't say anything is when I know to worry."

He gives her a smile. She can watch him and know but for anyone else it's impossible to read what he needs.

"It's Mary. It's something about Mary."

Molly has never pretended to be too shocked whenever something comes and hits her suddenly. Not the Moriarty thing, or now the fact that Mary is somehow involved in what Sherlock Holmes is struggling with. She expected him to struggle with a new woman coming in-between him and his best friend but this is something different. He's having trouble with something much more than that.

What is it about Mary Watson, then?

She doesn't have to ask him to explain anymore he just does and he's careful about what it is he says and it's her realization that he doesn't tell her exact specifics but it's clear that Mary is a danger to someone and she can't allow that in this life. Not because she matters to him exactly, but because he matters to her.

The last thing she says to him before leaving is that, "You shouldn't push yourself, I'll come check on you again later."

She does this, but again he finds himself in the hospital and Molly looking over him with a stern gaze saying, "What did I tell you?"

-x-

Molly has to track down Mary first. She only knows so much about her, so it makes this task ten times harder than it should be. Then there's the fact that they are in London. It is a large city with different undercarriages and secret places that one could hide if hiding is the game you're playing. There are cameras in most places but that still doesn't help her much. It isn't like she has a special friend who can do that.

However, Sherlock does text her about an hour after she's left him at the hospital. She tries not to send curses his way about him having his phone when he was supposed to be resting and among family. His parents had been coming up to see him with Mycroft as she was leaving. The woman who had been with Sherlock during the wedding had also been by but Molly hadn't thought much about that. She'd seen the papers but over the years she had learned not to trust what they said. Tabloids were a thing for gossips, she got more riled up than anything when reading them if she ever took a glance at them.

She had something better than papers, an instinct (gut or heart, it lead her in the right direction) and a need to protect her friends when necessary. This was definitely one of those times. Who would protect her from the knowledge that she often learned when sticking herself out for those she cared for? Well, it was a risk she had to take.

She looked at her mobile a second time as she got closer to the old building that Sherlock expected Mary to be now that the cards were more or less on the table now – his words. He had told her to be careful while passing her over a standard issue gun (it was John's) he had ensured her. She felt it in her back as she slipped through the door.

This was a bad part of the town but she had been here before. When Sherlock was undercover once and needed her to give him something important. The thing about this place was not in its grimy appearance but what was inside of it. It was a vacant living space full of flats and lofts that had been foreclosed years now. It one was one of Sherlock's secret locations. She didn't get how Mary had stumbled upon it. Or why she was there in the first place. Why wasn't she with her husband? It was obviously worse than Sherlock made it seem. Sometimes she hated the fact that he wouldn't tell her some things. He was trying to shield her and she understood why. It was the same reason why she was willing to come to this place to face a woman she barely knew anything about beyond the fact that she had caught the attention of John Watson, comforted him and loved him when Molly couldn't bear the thought of him being alone and suffering, married him and now not only was pregnant but had shot Sherlock Holmes; John Watson's best friend.

It all came back around to John Watson though. That was the one thing that was abundantly clear about every little piece of this. It was all connected – the details. She remembered on a good day in the lab when they were alone and Molly was trying to help with a case he had told her that. "No detail is insignificant. You have to look at them closer and the answer should be obvious. The ones that are the most literal are the ones you question the most." He had looked so serious when he told her that that she had always kept it with her.

She pushed her way into the building, the doorway was bent back a little giving her room to get in but she still had to squeeze a bit (putting her shoulder into it and feeling a rough scrap of the rusted metal cutting into her shoulder, she stopped momentarily to touch it and see if it would bleed too much or if she could keep going. She kept going). She took the steps knowing that the best vantage point would be in one of the top floors. She had looked outside to see if she could see anyone looking out but she hadn't.

Most of the floors were the same, cluttered with objects that blocked the ways in. No one was supposed to come in here in the first place. It surprised her that it hadn't been demolished yet. However, when she reached the twelfth floor the clutter was gone, and she saw a light coming from somewhere. She felt for the gun in the waistband of her trousers almost wanting to take it out like some copper about to come out and arrest a suspect. She didn't think she would need it just yet though.

If what Sherlock had joked about was true then she probably should have been worried. Mary was the assassin he had been referring to. She was only glad she had gotten some self-defense courses a year back. It would be a good time to use it.

As she stepped through into the hall she looked around hoping she wouldn't have to move too far into the dimly let area. Miss Watson was not being very accommodating and so Molly pressed on slowly. It was only as she reached the last set of doors did she hear any sign of life or movement.

"Molly, I'm on your left."

Molly took in a shaky breath. She didn't feel as confident now that she knew that the assassin had been watching and waiting for her. It was equally distressing knowing that now. She moved in the direction that she heard Mary speaking in and stepped into the flat. She found Mary near the light that she could see coming from the corridor. She was sitting in a chair as she turn to look at her.

She looked tired and tense but also quite resolute in what she was doing. Whatever that might have been.

"I suppose you've spoken to Sherlock."

Molly nodded, shifting her gaze from Mary into the rest of the living space. There wasn't much there anymore. An old cot on the other side of what was supposed to be the front room, the table where Mary was sitting along with another chair. There were a couple pieces of paper by her.

"Mind if I sit?" Molly didn't wait for her to say yes, she just strode over to her and sat down. Mary smiled at her and Molly just looked at her blankly trying to figure out her. There were few things outside of John that she knew about Mary's persona. She was friendly and trustworthy except when she wasn't anymore.

Molly didn't know what she expected to happen when she finally found her but this probably wasn't it. She was expected to seeing the chatty woman who made people laugh by her wit and sarcasm. What she saw was so different. It was almost like being in a room with Sherlock Holmes but female and highly dangerous. Though Sherlock could be dangerous if he wanted to be. She was a lot like John too, she realized.

"I want to talk to you."

"I know." Mary licked her lips as she placed her gun on the table. Molly hadn't realized Mary had it at first, nor had she seen her pointing it had her when she came inside.

"Do you know why?"

"Sort of. You're worried about your friend or should I say friends. You and John get on quite well."

Molly shrugs. She likes John and he doesn't have anything against her so she supposes what she says is quite true.

"It's Sherlock that concerns you the most. You have a thing for him."

Molly decides that denying it when in the face of someone who had inserted herself inside of her circle and made her feel less lonely wouldn't be a smart move. Especially when there was a gun in between them.

"My feelings for Sherlock have nothing to do with why I'm here. You've messed with the dynamic between them and also yourself by what you did. I don't know if John knows."

"He does – a part of it at least. He's quite upset."

"As he should be." Molly stated. "The reason why I'm here is not important. At least in part, you're right I do care what happens to my friends. If I can help fix a problem then I'll do it, feelings aside."

"Like how you helped him fake his death."

Molly swallowed, she already knew he had told John. He had told her when they had met up again for the first time. She had forgotten the part about how Mary was with him at that time.

"Yes. I'll do anything to protect my friends."

This caused Mary to smile. "This is where I inform you that the reason why I shot him, and why I nearly did it again last night was because I was trying to protect someone I care for very much."

"You mean John." Mary nodded and Molly just looked at her for a moment before she continued on. "I need you to explain it to me." She left out the implied because I don't believe that shooting your husband's best friend is protecting him in the slightest. Mary was clever and smart to boot, she could figure that out on her own.

Mary sighed, visibly swallowing as she crossed her hands on the table. "I can't."

Molly bit her lip, she didn't come here to just leave without any answers. She was tired of being the last one to know things. She needed to know even a little.

"Please." She sounded desperate but this was a time where being like that was necessary. "I really need to know. I have to protect my own too."

The other woman's laughter filled the small space and Molly just looked on unsure if she was having a psychotic break because of how weak Molly sounded or if she honestly thought it was funny that Molly was trying so hard. She didn't know. She didn't feel like asking her. This was not a personal visit, this was a risk, and this was business.

Mary liked Molly Hooper, a lot. It wasn't just her sweet natural but her boldness too. She had seen her slap Sherlock Holmes before – something that most people wanted to do but she did it. Petite in stature, fumbling under pressure but she was also strong. Stronger than Mary felt that she was even when she had a weapon in her hands. It took true strength to walk into a room with someone you know could kill you if they really wanted to and ask them the questions they probably didn't want to answer. Molly was better than her. She would shoot first and ask questions later, and she had several times over not that the pathologist knew anything about that.

"I fell in love with a wonderful man who was hurting. I didn't have that in my head when I started talking to him but when it happened I was overjoyed with happiness. John Watson is a wonderful man and he came with baggage and I knew that and I took care of him and he came out of it better. However, I didn't expect to be faced with my past along the road. I know, you have to face your demons but I just wanted to cut them away and I tried but Sherlock got in the way. He wasn't supposed to be there but I knew him and I know my husband wasn't too far behind him so I made a decision and I know that I've caused tremendous turmoil for all of us, but I have to protect who I love."

Mary almost expected Molly to accept this answer but she had seen her in action before and she never just let things go, she needed more. She was a scientist after all. She needed to sift through all the possibilities.

"Who are you really?"

Molly's eyes were so different when she was in mission mode. Her eyes said everything, and her face spoke volume to how she was feeling. She was taking everything Mary said in and she could tell. There was something she realized upon meeting her. She could trust Molly Hooper and she wanted to, she told her a truth.

"I'm two different someone's packed into one body. I am still me but I have blood on my hands. I was an assassin before I turned around my life and I knew someone who knew all my secrets. It was in the cards at the reception. I had to get rid of the evidence but John has that now."

"What do you expect to happen now?"

"I honestly don't know. I'm carrying a child and my husband doesn't want to look at me right now for good reasons."

Molly sucked in a breath. She waited a few minutes to say what she was thinking, what she had been thinking since Mary decided to be honest with her. She knew that at first she didn't want to be – that would have been too easy, but she had been at that was the first step in the right direction. Molly appreciated that.

"You shouldn't sit here though, it's not safe for the baby. You need to go home. He'll come to you when he's ready."

"How do you know?"

"I've done a lot of waiting myself."

Mary's face had gone neutral again, even when she was talking about something she loved. She was closing herself off again. Yet, she smiled at her again and this one wasn't out of amusement or bitter in quality, it was genuine. "I can see why he protects you so much."

Molly's brows rose in confusion. What was she talking about?

"Sherlock hides you away from the people who want to harm the people closest to him, the ones he cares about but they've forgotten about you. You are something purely magnificent." Molly could feel the color rising into her face. "It's his own form of protection but you have your own way of shielding him too. Especially when he's unable to see how brilliant you are at it."

"This was never about me and Sherlock."

Mary couldn't fathom why Molly Hooper continued to insist that. This was about the two of them and their lives together. She got to her feet. "You should go to him. He's probably waiting on you to tell him that you're okay so he knows I didn't kill you. He knows I could have and so do you. I'll see you soon, maybe we can have lunch?"

Molly doesn't understand Mary Elizabeth Watson as much as she wished but she does understand a part of her. They are the same but they go about protecting in their own ways. She knows she shouldn't be smiling especially knowing that there are still so much she doesn't know but she'll take what she's found out tonight and run with and maybe they'll have to take a few lunches to find out more about each other but this was a good start towards something better.

-x-

When she finds herself back in Sherlock's hospital room. He isn't alone. His mum is still there along with Mycroft but his dad is nowhere to be seen. She hesitates even though she's already halfway in the room and Sherlock looks at her with something close to relief. He begins to speak directly to her before Mycroft opens his mouth, interjecting before he can try to have a word with her.

"Ah, Miss Hooper. Nice of you to visit."

Sherlock is glaring at him but as always his older brother is unfazed by it. "Oh, I came at a bad time I suppose. Don't want to intrude or anything." She laughs and shoots a panicked look at Sherlock. She has never been in a room with so many Holmeses at once. She almost feels too bare, as if they can all read her. Two out of the three anyone.

This is the first time she's spoken to his mum. Or she to Molly but she seems lovely as she gets to her feet. "Molly Hooper, I've heard so much about you. Come sit next to me." She moves some paper out of the chair next to her and beckons her forward.

Molly looks at both brothers again, Sherlock looks pensive and Mycroft is smiling in that way he has only ever smiled at her but there seems to be something close to affection to his look to. She notes it quietly before walking carefully over to the older woman.

In the half an hour that she is able to talk with Mrs. Holmes she finds herself accepting an invitation over the holidays to visit them in their home. Sherlock gaze is immediately on her when she does it but it's not like she could say no.

When his father comes back for his mum he is delighted to hear that she will be visiting. It's such a strange thing to experience. They are so different from their children, or really their children are from them. Molly likes it though and she feels quite happy to be included in their company if only for a night.

Mycroft ends up leaving with his parents giving them their proper moments alone. Sherlock lets out a sigh in relief. He looks tired though.

"That was nice of them." Molly starts.

"Everything about them is so nice." He grumbles.

"You love them though."

Molly gets up and walks over to him. "Yes, that is the common reaction for a parent and child. They aren't too bad at times."

Molly giggles and he looks up at her and seems to be checking her over now that she's closer to him not that the chairs were that far apart from him. "It pleases me that you came out unscathed with your meeting with Mrs. Watson."

He doesn't call her Mary, she notes. Is he upset about her shooting him still or is it him trying to see if she catches on to it.

"She's okay, I think. I mean I wouldn't want to meet her again in an abandoned building but I think things will be okay soon. John just needs time and you need time to heal."

"You sound like my mother."

She just smiles at him. "I think that's a sign that perhaps you should listen for once. You're quite stubborn. Women are smart about these kinds of things."

He's looking at her in a way that she rarely sees. He wants to do something but he's unsure about it. "What?" She asks him.

"Will you lay with me for a little while? It's rather boring at night." He doesn't sigh, but she can tell he hates it. All of this, he hates being stuck here and being monitored by everyone but he's asking her anyways. He wants her to stay with him even though that's not aloud. "Before you say no, Mycroft has two guards outside and has talked with the staff into allowing you to stay. I did not ask him to do so, he does things often without my permission."

She tries not to smile at how annoyed he gets about his brother but there is hidden affection for him doing something that he wanted right now.

She takes a moment to think about it. Just a beat of a moment.

She concedes as he makes room for her and she lays next to him. They don't touch but she can feel his warmth as he eventually falls asleep. The little lights from the machines he's hooked up to shine on his face in the darkness and Molly smiles at him. Perhaps Mary was right about something but Molly knows things too, and with a little time everything will be better if not perfect again. Soon.