Molly's Bad Day

A/N: Thank you kindly for the support on the first chapter. Here's another...let me know whether I should continue.

Molly opened her eyes blearily, for a moment not sure of her surroundings. Her head was pounding and her throat was parched. She sat up and reached for a glass of water she found beside her. She had no recollection of how it had gotten there, or in fact where there was. She appeared to be in a dimly lit room, alone, but warm. She stood up and made her way slowly to the window at the far side of the room. She recognised the street outside and, in fact, was very close to her own flat geographically. How had she ended up here?

Suddenly a wave of memory flooded her mind. Pictures and thoughts from the day before raced through her mind. She had been angry at Sherlock (not unusual), there had been the young man, the drugs, her lab.

What have you done Molly? Surely you weren't that stupid! It's only Sherlock...

Fear began to rise in the pit of her stomach as her gaze turned towards the sleeve covering her left arm. She clenched her fist and felt a stab of pain in her arm. Slowly and very unwillingly she rolled back the sleeve and stared at the small puncture mark still visible on her forearm. She combed her memories but could not remember the moment when she had become a user. The details were hazy and this scared her more than anything else. She turned from the window and gazed at the room once more. It wasn't by any means dingy or delapedated which surprised her as she had expected it to be so; too many of the stories she heard began like that she supposed. In the corner stood a cabinet full of photo frames and momentoes of a life well lived. She moved towards it and noted the happy family on a range of trips. A mother, father and two boys without a care in the world. A smile crept across her face as hereyes moved across the other objects. A cricket ball, trophies and several books which were evidently valuable antiques.

"Come on Molly, time to get out of here before someone notices" she whispered to no one.

She took another drink, cleared her throat and picked up her phone which shehadn't noticed until now.

Silently she closed the door of the house and turned to look at it wondering once again how she had ended up there in relative safety. She unlocked her phone and found she had a voicemail from Greg Lestrade, her sometimes friend and Inspector of Scotland Yard.

"Hi Molly, not sure when you're gonna get this but I'd appreciate if you dropped by when you can. It's about the Old Rope Poisoner case Sherlock and John were working on. Thanks and see you soon hopefully"

He had sent it around midnight and guessed it must be important if he had been working late. Feeling slightly groggy she flagged down a cab and climbed into the backseat. The journey felt like a lifetime and she was glad when the Yard came into view. She took a detour to the bathroom on the way and was glad she had. She looked at herself in the mirror and realised how dishevelled she looked. She pulled her hair into a more kempt ponytail and splashed some water on her face. A noise startled her but it was only another member of the force pushing open the door. She climbed the stairs trying to clear her head of the negative thoughts which had begun to wash over her again.

Greg smiled at her as she entered but she thought for a moment it faltered as his eyes caught hers. He didn't say anything though so maybe she had imagined it after all.

"Molly glad you could come. Something isn't adding up about this case and I'd like you're opinion."

"Yeah sure whatever I can do, has Sherlock not found him yet? He seemed pretty determined yesterday, like he knew"

"Well he hasn't rubbed my face in it yet, and actually hasn't been in touch since Saturday evening!" Something about this statement seemed odd as Saturday had been yesterday, hadn't it? Asense of dread rose upin her as she began to worry that she hadn't only missed a night but more.

She slipped her phone out and checked the date on the lock screen.

Monday 24th October

She felt faint and grasped the chair in front of her. This hadn't escaped Lestrade's attention and he moved across the office to her side.

"Molly come and sit down. I'll get you a glass of water. You aren't looking very well!" he said sounding concerned. She gladly accepted his offer and collapsed into the chair in front of his desk. Her hands were shaking and she was feeling slightly colder than she had. It was obvious she was suffering some sort of withdrawl effects from the cocaine and she needed get out of the office before anyone noticed. Before she could move, however, Lestrade was back and had a arm around her shoulder.

"You ok Molly?" he asked

"Yeah just a bit of a bug I think" she lied. "What was it you wanted my opinion on?"

"I think that can wait til you're feeling better. I can email it all onto you if you'd prefer and I'll get you taken home!" he responded. After a minute she agreed and Lestrade called a younger member to driver her home. She was glad to close the door behind her as the tears began to flow down her cheeks. The worst thing was that there was a nagging in the back of her mind once more..

You know what would stop the hurt...it would be better this time...Do it..just escape...

Just then she heard a noise coming from the back of her flat and the young man from the day before came towards her at speed. She closed her eyes, there was nowhere to run and no chance of escape.

A/N: Think we'll leave it there for now...