Chapter Two
"What's wrong with Molly?" Watson asked unsurely, and then he seemed to think about his question. "What do you think is wrong with Molly?"
Sherlock debated how to answer while his pale blue eyes roamed the ever-busy streets of London. It was just before sunset and the street lamps were starting to come on. Their bright yellowish-white lights illuminated the sidewalks.
Sherlock turned to Watson on the bench, his mouth open with a response, but then the words were gone.
Watson arched an eyebrow, waiting patiently, and frustrated, Sherlock turned away again. He stared straight ahead, eyebrows lowered, as he wondered.
What could be wrong with Molly? What made her eyes darken for that one split second before she smiled at him. What made her go quiet when they lapsed into silence?
"I don't know." Sherlock said finally, turning back to Watson; his voice was rough with frustration. "I don't know what would make her so. . ."
Watson looked at Sherlock, inclining him to go on. Sherlock couldn't complete his thought and fell silent. He sighed and his hands went into his trench coat pockets. It was winter, almost a year since last July. They were to marry in two weeks, and Sherlock had no idea if Molly was getting cold feet.
"Maybe. . ." Watson started and looked surprised when Sherlock turned his entire body to him, desperate for a solution. "I'm just saying. . . Maybe she's nervous."
Sherlock felt puzzled. "Nervous?"
"This is hardly a walk in the park for her," Watson said calmly. His eyes were clear as he tried to assist Sherlock. "She has to change her name, her address, and she has to worry about if she's good enough for you."
Sherlock didn't know how to reply. He fumbled for words while all sorts of thoughts ran through his head. They were cruel, and they grabbed at his mind palace, tearing at it. Sherlock thought to how he used to treat Molly and how he treated her now. He felt guilt settle on his shoulders. He heaved a sigh and looked at Watson. "Do I ask that much of her?" He asked Watson, his voice in a sad monotone.
Watson looked taken aback by this question. He flustered as he tried to find a response, and Sherlock waited almost nervously. "No."
Sherlock imploded. "What makes you say so?" His hands went to his eyes as he went on. "I used to be horrible to her, and now I'm not, or I try not to. The anger management classes seem to be doing some good, but Molly never makes me angry, which makes me ask myself 'Why take them?'. I don't want to cruel to her, Watson, I really don't." Sherlock's shoulders were shaking. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he went on.
"I pay for all our lunches so she doesn't have to do such a thing. She always asks me, Watson, always, and I tell her that I've got it yet she insists to let her pay for one. Is that why she seems so nervous around me? Like one day, it'll all appear to be a dream and I'll be the monster that I was?"
"Oh, Sherlock," Watson moaned beside him. He patted Sherlock on the shoulder. "Why are you beating yourself up?"
Sherlock's wet eyes went to Watson's face and he rasped, "I just want to be sweet to her."
"You are, Sherlock." Watson said gently. "You are."
"Then why is she nervous? Why does she look at me sometimes with such disappointment?" Sherlock asked tearfully. "I've disappointed her."
"No, you haven't." Watson's voice was firm.
Sherlock only shook his head and cried into his hands.
Molly's chest heaved as she jogged down the street. She tried her hardest to focus on the sound of her heavy breathing and her hard footfalls.
One more block, she told herself, and then I can stop.
She jogged around the corner, her eyes going to the happy people eating in the delis. She passed the station and Lila's shop. She waved once at Lila, who was just leaving.
"Molly!" Lila called.
Molly waved her hand, telling Lila she'd have to go on, and kept going. She forced herself to jog up the sidewalk, hearing her heart pound loudly in her ears.
She felt all the color drain out of her face and then everything grew fuzzy. Molly felt blood leave her head and go to her feet, making them heavier. Her vision began to swim.
"Molly!" Lila called again, and then Molly heard Lila running after her.
Molly opened her mouth to shout back that she couldn't stop.
"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson screamed when Watson and Sherlock entered the flat. "Sherlock! Sherlock!"
Watson and Sherlock exchanged worried glances and then they raced into Mrs. Hudson's flat, only to be hit by the door when Mrs. Hudson flung it open.
"Jesus, Mrs. Hudson!" Watson cried out when Sherlock landed on him. Sherlock tried to sit up and crawl off of Watson, his head spinning.
"Don't you ever say that!" Mrs. Hudson said fiercely and Watson mumbled a quick apology. Sherlock climbed to his feet and spoke.
"Why were you. . . Shrieking for us?" Sherlock asked and he went still when worry clouded Mrs. Hudson's face.
"Lila saw Molly jogging just a few moments ago." Mrs. Hudson began to explain and then Sherlock realized that she was fully dressed, not in one of her fluffy robes. Mrs. Hudson led the way out of the flat. "Molly fainted, and Lila called me."
"Molly fainted?" The words didn't make sense. Since Sherlock had known Molly, he had never seen or heard of her fainting. "Why did she faint?"
Mrs. Hudson looked at Sherlock in worry and said. "Lila asked if she ate, and apparently her answer wasn't satisfying."
Which meant 'no' or 'very little'.
Watson seemed to know this. "What?" Watson cried and Sherlock helped Mrs. Hudson flagged down a cab.
Molly's eyes drifted open.
"Molly?" Lila's soft voice above her. "Oh, thank goodness."
Molly felt dizzy and she blurrily realized that she was on the floor. She smelled flowers and dirt, and she tried to see clearly. She felt her head begin to ache.
Molly's hand went to her hair. "Ow. . ."
Lila looked down at Molly, blond hair getting in her face. "Are you okay?" her blue eyes were full of fright. "I saw you fall."
Molly knew better than to nod. Her head ached and her hands felt scratched, like she had rubbed all the skin off. "I'm all right." She said and then she tried to sit up. She fell back down with a yelp.
"Don't move." Lila said quickly and something cold gently pressed itself against Molly's forehead. "You've skinned your knee and hands."
"Oh." Molly said and then she sighed. "I'm sorry."
Lila shook her head. "It's okay, to me. Sherlock might say different," the sound of her fiancé's name made her flinch.
"I was just trying to exercise." Molly said defensively.
Lila nodded absently, and said, "Exercising is fine. As long as you've eaten properly." Lila gave Molly an inquiring look with her blue eyes. "Are you trying to lose weight? You look fine, Molly."
Molly ignored Lila's question and said, "I did eat."
"What did you have? Did you have dinner?"
"Yes." Molly said. "Salad." Molly then added. "I've had salad all day and I-"
"Molly Hooper!" Lila cried and Molly flinched away. "Salad is not dinner!" Her eyes were fierce now. "You've only had salad?"
"Yes, but I'm okay-"
Lila interrupted her. "Molly, you fainted."
Molly tried to look away from Lila's hot blue eyes. "I've been doing it a while. Never fainted before."
Lila's voice was sharp. "How long?"
Molly squirmed on Lila's floor, now uncomfortable. "Since Sherlock started his anger classes."
Lila's hand holding the cold cloth went still. "You've been doing this for three weeks?"
"I don't want him to think I'm pudgy!" Molly cried and Lila shook her head.
"Molly Hooper, you are not pudgy!" Lila said firmly.
"Easy for you to say!" Molly gestured to Lila, to her slender frame. "I'd kill to have that."
Lila shook her head. "I hardly have time to eat. I work two different jobs at two different times with two different lunch breaks that don't match up. I'm hungry all the time."
Molly looked at Lila differently and said, "What's your second job?"
Lila looked away and only said, "You need to eat, Molly."
"I'm not hungry." Molly said and Lila's teeth dug into her bottom lip. Lila sighed and began to dab at Molly's hand again.
"Sherlock would be angry if something happened to you." Lila said.
A knock sounded on the door and Molly and Lila jumped, their eyes going to the entrance of Lila's shop. Watson and Mrs. Hudson stood behind Sherlock, who stood in the threshold.
Sherlock's pale blue eyes were boiling and there were dried tearstains on his cheeks.
"He's angry now." His eyes went to Molly's. "Molly Hooper," she nearly drew away when he addressed her.
"Y-Yes?" Molly asked in a shaky voice.
"Why haven't you been eating?"