Hello! We're back again and we want to apologize for two things. One being the lateness of this chapter and two being posting an angsty chapter after The Recheinbach Fall and teaser aired on BBC1. As we said before, there is an ocean of angst, so watch out! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: We once again we do not own Sherlock. *digs 50 foot hole, jumps, and splats in the dirt* (Sorry couldn't resist)
Molly's vision was blurred from sleep as she woke, blinking into consciousness. It was first a twitch in her finger and then a flick of her wrist before she could move her neck and look at the room around her. The amount of white and the sharp smell of antiseptic told her she was in the hospital. Which of course made sense given what had happened.
When she was completely awake, she tried to wiggle her toes, but they wouldn't move. Neither would her ankles, knees, or hips. The feeling was completely gone and it frightened her immensely. What was going on? Why couldn't she feel or move anything? It was just temporary, right?
Right?
As she became able to look around, she realized she was alone. The room was completely empty, except for the beeping machines keeping track of her body's functions. She felt a large pang of loneliness take over her entire body as she choked out a strangled sob. The jerking movement of her head made one of the machines go into a frenzy. A few seconds later, nurses and doctors were pouring into her room and checking her vital signs. The sudden influx of so many people surprised her so much, she found herself not being able to cry. The tears burned the corners of her eyes, but they wouldn't come out.
After about ten minutes of poking and prodding, everyone left the room except for one male doctor. "Miss Hooper, I'm terribly sorry you were alone when you woke up. There was usually a nurse in and out of here every ten minutes or so, but there was a large car accident today and everyone was on high alert."
"What happened?" she managed to croak, her voice hoarse from disuse.
"Um, if I'm blunt, you were hit by a car which you probably already knew," he said, not looking up from what he was scrawling on the clip board at the foot of her bed. In spite of herself, a tiny smile quirked her lips up.
"You're right, I do know that," she replied fighting her bleary memory to remember it exactly. "What I meant was, what happened to my legs? I can't move them or feel them."
The doctor walked over and slowly sat down in the chair beside her bed, a massive sigh seemingly taking all the air out of his body. "I don't quite know how to say this. I never do. You've... Well, you've been asleep for the past two months, or in medical terms, in a coma."
Molly's mouth went dry. Two whole months? "What?" she made the word come out with some difficulty.
He seemed to shift uncomfortably. When doctors didn't want to tell you something, it never boded well. "You see, when you were hit by the car there was significant damage to your whole body, which was of course expected-"
Molly interrupted, her elevating heart rate causing the beeping to escalate again. "What happened to me?"
He looked directly into her eyes, his expression filled with pity and compassion. It caused a thrill of fear to course through her. "Miss Hooper... Your back was broken in the crash. We tried everything, I promise you we did, but you're paralyzed from the waist down."
Molly felt her stomach drop. Paralyzed. She was paralyzed. Her mind was reeling. It couldn't be. He was mistaken. Not her. Not her. Please not her.
The world seemed to come to a thunderous halt. The words pressed down on her suffocatingly, making breathing difficult.
He noticed her despair and put a hand on her shoulder gently. "I know you won't want to hear this and it's not at all compensation for what you've been through, but in a way you're lucky. Had the break been a few centimeters up, you would have been paralyzed from the neck down."
A slightly strangled laugh forced itself out of her mouth. "Lucky. I don't think I've ever felt less lucky in my life," she muttered. A wave of bitterness crashed over her so strongly she doubted she'd ever fight her way out from under it.
"I'll leave you be for now. If you need anything, push the red button to your right and a nurse will be in," the doctor informed her and made a quick exit. He probably wanted to leave her alone to her thoughts. That was exactly the last thing she wanted right then.
This was all because of Sherlock. He wasn't even here to see her. He probably hadn't even stayed long enough to make sure she wasn't dying or dead.
No more. She wouldn't take it. Couldn't take it.
Sherlock Holmes was erased from Molly Hooper's mind. Forever.
OoOo
~2 weeks later~
Molly was released from the hospital after about two weeks of tests to see what new needs she had and some physical therapy to strengthen her arms for using her new wheelchair. She was going to her live in her flat, but her mum and friend Mary Morstan were going to be in and out quite a bit to make sure she did all right. Her mum had a job she couldn't get off very much, so Mary was going to stay with her for a month or so until she got her feet on the ground again... At least figuratively, she thought agitatedly.
"That's it, Molls, slow and steady," Mary encouraged as Molly rolled her wheelchair down the ramp and out of the hospital. The fresh air felt heavenly on her face after over two months of being indoors. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to pretend the last two and a half months hadn't happened.
It worked for a second but when she opened her eyes, she was assaulted by the cruel reality of her wheelchair-bound state.
"I've got it," Molly said, trying to keeper the anger out of her voice. It wasn't all aimed at Mary, most of it was frustration at a situation that wouldn't change no matter what she did.
She was tired of being constantly watched. Sure, she was a little fragile, but she wouldn't break into a million pieces if she weren't being watched over around the clock. Molly just wanted to live her life as she used to. Only that couldn't happen, she thought with a sort of dead feeling as she was helped into the back seat of her mum's car. Once she was in, her legs dangled uselessly and she felt her heart breaking into tiny, jagged pieces that cut into her. She couldn't walk anymore. She couldn't drive. She would even have a hard time getting herself dressed.
"I have some wonderful ideas to make your flat more accessible, dear," her mum said in a falsely cheery tone as they drove away from the hospital. Everything she said was in that tone around her, but Molly had heard her sobbing brokenly into the phone outside her room talking to her aunt about how she wasn't sure how Molly was going to cope. She wished she had the guts to tell her she didn't have to be strong all the time. God only knew Molly wasn't. She'd spent a good many nights crying herself to sleep because everything just felt so overwhelming. Her entire life had just taken a very abrupt turn in a direction she did not care for at all and it was a one-way street with no chances to turn around.
"Great," Molly replied in the same tone her mum had used as she looked out her window with an eye roll hidden behind her eyelids.
The rest of the car ride was silent because no one knew exactly what to say or what to chat about. What could they possibly talk about? Sometimes conversations about the world around them would start, but quickly the words would fade away and leave a smothering silence in their place.
Once they pulled up in front of Molly's flat and got her back into her wheelchair, her mum said, "Molls, I got a call from work. They need me in right away. Will it be all right if I go?"
Molly caught the sigh before it became audible and stifled it. "That's fine, mum. See you later."
There was an unsaid, but probably mutually heartfelt thankful feeling that there were no stairs to get into Molly's building between the two women. One hard thing was opening the door to Molly's flat. She insisted on trying it herself before Mary held the door open for her to wheel through. Molly unlocked the door, then grasped the round handle in her hand and pulled roughly. While the door was open she tried to slide her chair in the opening before it closed. She tried this tactic two more times until Mary ended up holding it for her. Tears of frustration nearly started coming until she pushed them down. Was there anything she could do by herself anymore?
When she got in, her cat, Toby, leapt gracefully into her lap and nuzzled her shoulder, letting out a satisfied purr. She scratched his head and inhaled the scent of her flat. Molly was home again.
"So, Molls, I was wondering if I could ask someone over for tea," Mary said, stumbling over each word. She seemed incredibly nervous for some reason. It reminded her of when they were in Uni together and she'd have a date she wanted Molly to meet. Maybe she'd met someone?
"Who would this someone be, Mar?" Molly asked, holding back a giggle for the first time in so long.
"Oh, just some bloke I met at Bart's," Mary stuttered, turning a vibrant shade of red and hiding a slight smile.
"You got a boyfriend?" she exclaimed, not able to hold back her grin.
Her friend ducked her head, flushing even more. "He's not my boyfriend! Well... Not yet anyway," she giggled. "But I'm sort of hoping that'll change soon."
"If I could, I would be out of this chair in a second and hugging the stuffing out of you!" laughed Molly, feeling just a little lighter and happier for the first time in a long time.
Mary ran over to Molly and wrapped her arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. "Oh, Molly, I missed you."
"I missed you too, Mary," Molly whispered through a lump in her throat that had suddenly appeared, obstructing her speaking abilities. "So, who's the lucky fella?" she asked, changing the subject and clearing her throat, pushing away the feeling of sadness that threatened to pull her under. Two whole months of her life were gone.
"A doctor I met. His name is John Watson," she said, sitting on Molly's couch with excitement bubbling from her.
Molly's brain froze temporarily, memories she'd tried to rid herself of popping up left and right. " John Watson?" she stuttered in surprise, just barely managing to shut down the memories.
"Yeah, why? Friend of yours?" Mary asked, walking to the kitchen to get them both a cup of tea.
"Um, sort of," she said, wheeling her chair to a spot beside a little table high enough to set her tea on when Mary brought it. "I see him at Bart's now and then on my coffee breaks." Or rather, she thought, I'd see him trailing along after his sociopathic flatmate with a permanent exasperated look on his face.
"Oh, really?" her friend called from the kitchen. "What do you think of him?"
"He's quite nice," she replied. "But truthfully, I haven't seen him for a long time."
"Mmm," Mary muttered from the kitchen, obviously trying to figure out how to use Molly's stove. "I'll tell him ten minutes, then?"
"Sure," Molly replied eyeing a large tack of mail teetering on the edge of her kitchen table.
Mary looked over and saw Molly watching it. "Your mum and I saved all your mail. I'd say almost all of it is from the states. Friend from there?"
Molly knew right away who it was from and she wasn't going to have any of it. "I used to."
She wheeled over and took the stack in her lap, careful not to tip it onto the floor. There were thirty two letters and twenty of them were from the United States without a return address on them. Just looking at her name written in the spidery scrawl made here eyes swim with tears. She took them all over to the paper shredder next to her desk that stood by the kitchen. Molly fed each letter in slowly and felt her heart lighten a touch with each one.
"What are you doing with all of those?" Mary asked as she set the tea on the table and came over by her friend.
"Shredding them because they're junk. All junk," Molly whispered as a single tear rolled down her cheek.
Ohhhhhh! John's coming over and Molly is shredding Sherlock's letters. We shall see how this goes. Have a fantastic weekend, review, jump in holes, and love Sherlock!
(No just kidding! Don't jump in holes! You're all too lovely)