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Chapter Two

Back From The Dead

Molly woke up moments later to a gentle hand shaking her by her shoulder. HIS hand. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at his face. His shirt was still unbuttoned. He was still covered in blood. A drop fell from his cheek and landed on her forehead.

She shuddered, and quickly scooted away, sitting up as she did so. "b-but. . .Oh my god Sherlock!" She shrieked in hysterics. "Y-you were d-dea. . ." She couldn't finish the word. She cupped her face in her hands and began to cry again, the tears renewed in full force.

Sherlock watched, his eyebrows kitted together as he tried to decide what had brought upon this reaction. He had told her to wait for him here, that he needed her to be the one to do the autopsy. She had done both. But now she was crying, had been for quite some time, by the state of her. She seemed in genuine shock that he was alive. He had told her that was the plan. He moved one of his hands to run it through his hair, only to pull it back and examine the sticky red mess that not covered it. Oh. Of course. She had taken in his appearance, and genuinely thought he was dead.

He wiped his hand on his jacket and approached her cautiously. She was still crying, rocking slightly back and forth. He laid a hand on her shoulder, and waited for her to slowly raise her eyes up to his. "Molly, it's all right. Stop crying. I still need your help."

She bolted forward in response, hugging his waist tightly enough to make him gasp in pain. "You're alive." She breathed heavily into his chest. Sherlock stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do or say. "Molly. . . I may not have died, but I will have bruising." he said at last, wincing as she hugged him tighter.

"Oh, sorry!" Molly squeaked, retracting quickly. Her face, already red from crying, turned a deeper shade with blush. She finally stood, straightening her lab coat and shirt in an effort to distract herself as Sherlock also straightened out.

"W-what do you need me to do?" Molly asked, glancing at him through her lashes. She still sniffled a bit, but she tried to keep her voice steady. He wasn't dead. That was enough.

"First, I need to get clean up. I can't leave still covered in blood." Sherlock said, stripping off his coat and shirt where he stood, dropping them to the floor, leaving his chest bare. Molly could just make out the signs of the beginning of big bruises, mostly on his right side.

"S-Sherlock! y-you can't leave half-naked either!" Molly said, turning around quickly to give him some privacy as well as hide her red face.

"I'm not. I left extra clothes here on one occasion in case the need ever arose. Why have you turned around?" Sherlock asked. Molly could here him moving around, opening cabinets to retrieve the clothes he had spoken of. She heard him place them on the autopsy table he had previously occupied. Then the water started to run.

"Molly, come here, I need help washing the blood out of my hair." Sherlock said, leaning over one of the sinks in the room. Molly finally turned around, still blushing as she saw that he was still half-bare. She approached slowly, and began running her hands through his hair under the water, rinsing it like she would a cadaver, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine. He almost had been one. It was an awkward arrangement.

She watched as the water slowly stopped running red, but she didn't stop massaging his scalp. She could feel a large cut, though it felt like it was one of those wounds that Looked horrid but actually wasn't. Sherlock simply relaxed against the counter, his eyes closed as she washed his hair clean.

Finally, she stopped, and stepped away. "Done. . ." She mumbled, turning to retrieve the bundle of clothes he had laid out. She looked around nervously. Sherlock wrung his hair out into the sink with his hands before taking the bundle from her.

"Thank you Molly." He said as he slipped a plain gray t-shirt on over his head. He looked so odd in it after wearing dress shirts and his coat. Molly looked down at the ruined clothing with a small frown. "I'll just toss these then. . ." She said quietly, picking them up and placing them into a bio-hazard bin.

"What now?" She asked, turning back to him. He was leaning against the counter, his hands together and pressed against his lips. He was thinking. Hard.

"Now we leave." Sherlock answered after a long pause of deliberation on his part. "I need somewhere to go for now. I obviously can't go back to Baker's street, no. Much too dangerous. They could still be watching." he mumbled, talking to himself. Molly didn't have a clue what he meant, but she could help with one thing. . .

"You could stay with me for now." She offered, looking down at her shoes. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and she worried her lower-lip with her teeth.

Sherlock looked up from his thoughts, and stared at Molly. There it was again. The strength showing through her mousy exterior. How could he have missed it before? It was so blatantly obvious. "That's settled then." he clapped his hands together. "We must leave at once. I can't risk being seen. I'll go out the back way, and meet you out front, all right?" he asked, waiting for her to look at him again.

Molly nodded, resolute. "All right." Sherlock and she parted then heading out their separate ways, but she went to her office first. She removed her coat and put it on the rack before going to her desk to start the falsified autopsy report. Of course she'd need to write it up officially as soon as possible.

As she woke her computer up to turn it off properly, her heart dropped. Her desktop picture had been changed to a black backdrop with the letters IOU shining in a bright white contrast. She remembered Sherlock muttering that earlier today. What did it mean though?

With a shudder, she shut down the computer and left the office. She couldn't get away fast enough. She clocked out, and fast-walked out of St. Bart's. She looked around frantically for Sherlock, passing a darkened corner.

Hands shot out, grabbing her around the waist and covering her mouth to muffle her scream. Her heart pounded in her chest as she fought against whoever had her. She managed to jam her elbow back into his ribs, and heard a satisfying gasp of pain as the hands released her.

She spun around to face her attacker, only to see Sherlock, clutching his ribs, glaring at her. "What the hell was that for?" He groaned.

Molly covered her mouth with her hands, in shock. "Oh my god Sherlock, don't do that!" She said, her voice and body shaking.

Sherlock simply rolled his eyes. "I needed to get your attention." he said simply, as if that excused his actions. "What took you so long?"

"I had to clear up and start a report. . .Sherlock, there was a message on my computer. What does I-O-U mean?" Molly asked, glancing around nervously.

Sherlock went paler than he already was. "No. That's impossible. You must have seen wrong. Please tell me you're lying." he said, already knowing from the scared look on her face that she was serious, that it was real.

"Damn. We have to go. Now. Where do you live.?"

"Not far, I walk to work. . . you probably already knew that though." Molly said, blushing. "I suppose we have to take the back way there as well."

Sherlock nodded an affirmative, and Molly led the way down a back alley, her heart fluttering nervously. She was going home with the man of her dreams, but this seemed to be one big nightmare.

Well, there ya have it, Chapter two :3

Loving the reviews so far, please keep them coming. This is the Sherlock fandom, theorize, tell me what you think's coming, tell me what you'd like to see, and I'll see if it can't happen within this story!

If you can tell me something big that's coming, I may give you a sneak peek later on hehe *Evil grin* :)

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