The Greatest Trick the Devil Ever Pulled
Chapter Two: Conspiracy Theory
Molly, walked up the stairs into to John's flat. Mrs. Hudson popped out of nowhere, "Oh hello Molly dear."
Molly gave quick hello and peck on the cheek and turned to go up the stairs. "John's not here at the moment." Molly looked up the staircase. She promised Sherlock she'd check on him but with her schedule so hectic over the last few weeks, it was hard to do that a decent hour and a 3 a.m. 'How are you' visit just didn't feel like the right message to give. This was the first evening she'd been able to leave before 10pm and she just had to take the chance. Knowing that she failed yet again her shoulders slouched in defeat.
"I'm sure he'd be back soon if you would like to stop in for a pot of tea and a chat with an old busy-body."
That turned Molly's day around. She hadn't had much company other than the dead. "I'd love too." Within 15 minutes they were talking like two high school friends. Molly couldn't help but see the worry all over Mrs. Hudson's face when she would talk about John. They discussed her concerns and despite Molly's reassurances that time was all John would need, she just didn't seemed convinced. Mrs. Hudson, to prove her point asked Molly to follow her upstairs.
They walked into the flat. Molly felt a bit guilty walking uninvited into John's home, but that feeling melted away as she looked around the place. In front of the walls were white boards and tack boards, covered with articles, as far back as when John and Sherlock met, and as recent as yesterday. There were strands of colored yarn connecting stories and events, reporters and sources. Under some stories were post-its with names and dates. One of the articles caught her eye because of the scribbled information on the note below: Donovan source. She states she didn't say anything. So who leaked it?
Molly sighed to herself. Sherlock never got this bad. At least she believed he didn't. 'Not the point' her mind pointed out as she tried to get herself on task. Mrs. Hudson tsked in the background. Molly turned sharing that same worried look. "Even when Sherlock was shooting holes in my walls he never seemed to," Mrs. Hudson started. She shook her head looking for the right words, "lose himself. John rarely sleeps, I don't think he eats. He just chases one lead right into another. Each one might have been a dead end but he just doesn't stop looking." Molly didn't know what to say, so Mrs. Hudson continued. "I don't mind that he has this crusade. He just needs balance, don't you think dear."
"Yes, yes, I do." Her mind was screaming torn between sympathy for John and wanting to wring Sherlock's neck for putting John on this path. "The irony is if Sherlock was around he would be able to piece all this together in no time." Molly almost choked on her own words. She instinctively reached for her phone, but stopped herself when she remembered she wasn't alone. Turning to Mrs. Hudson, Molly put on her most innocent smile, "Would you mind if I waited here for John? I know we have no idea when he will return but maybe if I could just talk to him, I might be able to help."
The landlady brightened at the thought. "That would be lovely dear, absolutely lovely; anything to help the man." She practically skipped down the stairs leaving Molly completely alone.
Molly counted to 20 and then walked swiftly to the door. She locked the deadbolt to prevent John from sneaking up on her. She quickly texted out "Call me back IMMEDATELY, it's about John."
Her phone rang within moments. "Is he OK?"
"I just came over to check on him and well I'm very worried. He's become a man obsessed."
"Please, John may be many things but obsessed really, Molly? Surely you could come up with a better reason than that if you wanted to speak with me so bad."
Again she counted but to 10 this time, ignoring Sherlock asking if he hung up on him. "I'll prove it. I'm going to send you a picture."
"Molly I'm flattered to be sure, but I don't think that would be appropriate."
"Damn it, Sherlock I'm serious." She almost dropped the phone; she hadn't called him by name in months. Too many spy thrillers about how satellites monitor ever call and listen to every word. She said a prayer. "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."
"It's ok, no one has bugged the phone. It's a burner remember."
"What? Where did you hear that? Where the bloody hell are you?"
"I've been watching television. Apparently, I've missed out by disregarding Pop Culture. You're digressing. There were photos you were going to send me."
"Yes of course." She quickly took pictures with the phone and sent them to the email account they had been using.
Wherever Sherlock was to Molly it seemed to take forever for him to get the photos and upload them on to whatever device he was looking at. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, "Extraordinary."
"That's not what I wanted to hear. This is border-lining on mental. You have to help him."
"I don't see how that's possible with my being unavailable at the moment."
"Use me."
Sherlock noticed that she didn't stumble to correct her verbiage. He smiled slightly, thinking of her and missing her nervousness but his mind forced him back on track.
"You mean give you information that I gleam from these low resolution photos. I'm great but I don't think even my powers would be helpful on that end. I would have to see it much clearer than this."
"Fine, I'll bring the camera I use for Autopsy and upload them too you."
"You honestly believe that John will agree with this?"
"Why wouldn't he? I want to prove you're innocent as much as he does. You had John to keep you on this side of social ignorance. I can help him get a little balance."
"Social Ignorance," Sherlock exclaimed. "I think I liked you better when you were falling all over yourself trying to get my attention."
"No you didn't," she scoffed.
"You right, I do seem to like you much more now. Can't quite put my finger on why. Forward the pictures to me as soon as you can."
Her mind stopped processing after just that first statement. "I'm sorry."
"The pictures; have them emailed as soon as you can."
"Of course," she blinked now not sure if she heard what she thought she heard.
"It's late there, I'm assuming."
"Or early," Molly replied.
"Well I'll leave you to it then." He hesitated, but then she heard his voice soften slightly. "Good night Molly."
It seemed almost tender but Molly refused to make too much of it. "Good night," she barely caught herself before she said his name. "Ah yes, good night." She closed her phone and found some paper off to the side and started staring at the board hoping to get some clue on where to start.
She must have been working for a good thirty minutes when she heard the deadbolt twist. John walked in looking haggard, but he instantly noticed something off. "Molly what are you doing here?" He seemed too tired to show any real anger, it came out as exasperation.
"Don't be mad," Molly started getting up from the floor, her notes slipping from her hands. "Mrs. Hudson let me in because she was worried about you."
"Of course she did." He shook his head not knowing what to say. He didn't want to defend himself, which is what he felt he was doing all the time lately. Then he noticed the papers that Molly was re-organizing. "What are those?"
"My notes." Molly explained smiling. "I know what you're feeling right now. You're tied up in knots over this whole thing." She put everything she was holding on the nearest table and placed her hand on his arm. "You're probably thinking to yourself, 'What would Sherlock do?' Of course he would keep looking. Of course he would keep digging. I think you forgot one thing though."
"What's that?"
"What would you do when you saw him getting pulled in so far that he wouldn't take care of himself? You don't think I noticed all the times you brought him food and would force him to take a break after what was obviously too long. Let me be your John Watson. You're my friend John. I can help you with this."
He looked at her hard, trying to suss out if there was an angle she was playing. Then he smiled, this was Molly, if anyone cared about Sherlock as much as he did, it was her. "Of course you can help. I'd be grateful."
"Wonderful. My first point of action is to tell you to go to bed and sleep for at least 8 hours. If I have to I will get you a pill."
"But I have information to add," Walking toward the board.
"Absolutely not! I have my notes to finish up and then tomorrow evening we will discuss everything over dinner. I'll bring takeaway. Fresh eyes and new prospective. That will be the order of the day."
"But Molly-"
"Don't make me get Mrs. Hudson."
He smiled and held his hands up in mock surrender, "Fine Dr. Hooper, you win. I'm off to bed. I assume you can let yourself out."
"I will after I finish my last bit of notes and make sure you're sleeping," she said pointedly.
"Thank you," he said softly. "It's nice to be reminded that I'm not alone."
She placed her hand on his shoulder and it reminded him of Harri when they were young. "You're not alone and you never will be. Remember that."
A/N: Just a reminder, this will be a Molly/Lock and John/Donovan story. I have a habit of getting way to into the details. I also have a bit of a domino effect writing style. I'm actually writing this story backwards in my mind trying to make all the pieces flow to where I need them to end up. Any reviews you give would be helpful. I still haven't really figured out if I'm going to do 2 stories or combine them into one long one. It just seems the timeline might dictate that for me. We will see.