tremor.
part four / of five
Sherlock had never such a quick change in demeanor when it came to Molly over the past two days than he had when the good doctor had come to the room and began speaking and moving her hands around. It took him a moment after Molly began responding to the movement not in vocalization or even gesture. It was in her face, in the eyes. That was literally everyone's tell tale but somehow Sherlock thought this one wasn't different.
Molly showed no change beside the slight shaking of her hand the last time they were in the same room and she never spoke. It never really occurred to him at first that that it wasn't possible. Molly Hooper always talked.
It started to slowly make sense in his head. Especially when it came back to her last action before fleeing from the comforts of 221B. The rugged and clipped feel underneath his hand as she guided it along her neck. There had been an unjust doing there. Something sinister, it wasn't all that hard to tell.
Sherlock stopped thinking as he was brought back to the two women in the room. The doctor had moved from the doorway and had taken a seat on a wooden chair that was posted directly next to it. Sherlock had stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers at some point during the beginning of the exchange.
Molly was beginning to move too. With her hands. She paused a quick second and looked over at him. At first it looked as if she was freezing up again but she merely gestured to him and the doctor began talking to him. "Mister Holmes, do you know sign language?"
Sherlock didn't have to think about it at all. "Not well enough. I deleted those lessons. It seemed unimportant at the time." The doctor looked at him oddly before smiling.
"I'll interpret for you then. Is there anything you'd like to ask her before I begin my session with her?"
"Certainly. Would you tell me what happened to you?"
There was no interpretation needed for Molly's answer as she just shook her head and gnawed at the bottom of her lip. She looked quite frustrated. "Why ever not?" He huffed, his hand unconciously balling into a fist in his pocket.
"Mister Holmes I don't think anger is going to help this situation much. I am sure there is a nicer way to go about finding out the answers to what happened to Dr. Hooper."
Molly opened her mouth as if she was about to say something then she remembered her situation again and looked down at her hands. Her body relaxed a bit before she began to move them slowly as it seemed she was thinking about each word that she formed with her hands. "He doesn't know what nice is. Not really anyways." Molly looked up over at Sherlock as the doctor translated for her and rolled her eyes.
"I have apologized for my overly directness as you phrased it before. It's not something I can change. I am here because I wish to help you. I haven't done anything problematic since before you disappeared. I would just like to know what occurred, is that okay?"
The doctor looked between the two adults in the room and blinked a few times before she turned to Molly and said, "I sense a history between you two. Do I need to separate the two of you?" She was also smiling when she said it which gave Molly the indication that she was amused by the clear tension that had seemed to come out of nowhere. She didn't know what Molly had felt that month alone, trapped.
Molly just waited for Sherlock to say something which only was a more calm and quiet, "no."
"Now, as I feel like I'm more of a mediator than a neurologist or therapist of both which I am in case either of you were curious. I feel we should discuss the most important part of this whole ordeal before getting to the heart of your problem with each other."
Sherlock cut in before another word could be said and it made Molly want to throw something at him more than she already wanted to hit him repeatedly. "I don't have a problem. I am perfectly fine with Miss Hooper. She on the other hand seems to have some hidden hostility, it doesn't take a therapist to see that."
Molly sent a glare at him before standing up and and beginning to pace the small space that was free for her to walk. "It would be good if you didn't speak for awhile. This is just truly about Molly and what she has been through. If you continue, I will send you out."
That made him quiet immediately. The doctor just watched Molly walked a bit, observing the clear signs of both pent up frustration and anger seething from her body language. Her hands would go up into her auburn hair that was messily laying about her neck for moments where she would tug mid a stall in her footwork and then she move back again. It was as if she wanted to say something and it was really started to get to her that she couldn't just shout it.
It was very saddening to have to see that, despite the fact that the doctor didn't know the young woman personally. She had gotten a file the previous day from one of Molly's therapist from a few months ago. It was usually not great to pass along sealed records but this was a difficult situation and she felt that it would be good to know as much as she could about her potential clientele before their meeting.
She looked over at the consulting detective who had called upon her for this favor. He was much like many of the male colleagues she occasionally worked with. They were arrogant and talked the big talk about how they were greater and know much more. That wasn't what these cases were about for her. There was much more to be learned with each case and each client. It was about the understanding of the aftermath.
"You've talked to a therapist before, haven't you Molly?" She stopped her stride and looked down at the floor as she felt a questioning gaze being thrown by the only male in the room. The pathologist didn't have to look up to see the surprise in his eyes as she nodded and angled her body so that the other doctor in the room could see her hands.
"Yes. It was different, I was dealing with something more simpler. I only had him in the room."
"The passing of your dad, grieving could be much worse. Then again everyone is different when it comes to that. There are group sessions as well."
"I opted out of that. It was personal...and too many people make me feel uncomfortable. Why are you asking about that?" Molly returned back to the couch and sat down, pinching her nose. She was getting restless again but it wasn't because she was tired, Sherlock observed. Molly didn't like this conversation nor did she like that he found out in this way that she seeked help from a professional about her family. He thought so anyway.
It became clear the moment that little glimpse into a year in Molly's life that he didn't know her beyond what she allowed him to see on the outside. Appearances and behavior were different that was hidden behind the masks. There was always something he missed, but was there more. Possibly.
"To know how to go about asking certain things. It's clear you aren't comfortable with that. I'll try something different. It'll probably be best to go ahead and ask the most important thing first. Did you know whom your attacker was?"
Molly nodded again as she shut her eyes.
"Does anyone know who they were?" She meant did Sherlock have a connection to the woman who had harmed her.
She shook her head. "Not unless you were with me during high school or medical school."
"A colleague then?"
Her eyes might have been closed but there were many indicators that Molly wasn't okay with discussing this person. She was frowning and began gnawing at her lip again. It would start bleeding if she kept that up, Sherlock thought silently.
"No. You have to understand that even the nicest of people have people that dislike them for things that are out of their control."
"You mean you had an enemy?"
Molly eyes opened and she stared up at the cieling - eyes moving from each line on the square tiles. She briefly glanced in Sherlock's direction. "It was one sided, her part. Not mine. I was very studious and smart during my years of study. I guess that's something that could cause a bit of trouble. I didn't really realize it was much of a problem. I just liked to study and pass my tests or the labs. I liked it."
"You don't think very highly of yourself."
"Obviously." Sherlock breathed as he took a seat back in the rolling computer chair by Molly's desk. He fingered the set of papers that held more research. "She's good at putting herself on the back-burner if she thinks she's thought as invaluable. Though her assessment of her skill is quite wrong."
"I thought I told you to be quiet. Also, Molly says what do you mean?"
"I've never been that great at listening." He paused for a few moments and swiveled around so that he was facing Molly and stated very carefully, "You're still very smart. Anyone can research but it takes someone with courage and skill to keep digging even when it's clear that something is amiss, autopsy or otherwise."
Molly stared at him for a moment before catching herself and nodding. He could be nice, when he wanted to be she mused.
"Okay. What's her name then?"
"C - L - A - R - I - S - S - A." Molly spelled out quickly with her hands. "I don't think I ever knew her last name though."
"Why did she keep you away for an entire month?"
"She uncovered something." Sherlock stated as if it was the most logical reason. The doctor had a questioning look in her eyes that made it obvious what she wanted to know. Molly nodded once more.
"Sometimes I write articles for medical journals and I had been going back to a few of the things that my dad had told me before his death. There wasn't much but it didn't always sit well with me. There was an experiment but I didn't really know much about it except that it deals with genes. I knew one person that might know about. An old friend of my dad, his best friend actually. I never got to meet him."
"Because you disappeared."
"Coincidence? I think not." Sherlock had to butt in.
Molly gave him a half smile before remembering what she was about to discuss with the two of them. This was going to get really stressful. She didn't want to talk about it. She could already feel her body beginning to betray her.
"We can stop here, if you want Molly." Sherlock shot a glare at the doctor before standing up again.
"It won't do anything to postpone this." He muttered.
Molly didn't look at him. She knew he was right but it didn't mean she felt it was okay. None of this was okay. It all felt so wrong.
Molly's hand curled in her hair for a moment as she felt her right hand begin to shake a bit as she tried to begin forming the shapes of the words. It just wasn't working all that well. She shook her head and didn't stop for a few moments.
N - O. No. They could see it forming on her lips, repeatedly. No sound would come out but she kept at it without fail. It wasn't just this either, there was that shaking in both hands. Molly hand placed them both on her legs and she balled them up into fists out of mere fear and frustration that she couldn't do this. It wouldn't stop.
Sherlock stood up wordlessly without making a sound and crouched down in front of her like he had before back on Baker Street in his bedroom on the floor. He curled one hand around the right one then the left. He could feel the trembling at it's most intense and felt it as he fizzed out into small choppy shakes. It didn't ever stop but it had subsided a bit.
He remembered what happened the last time. Each time he touched her and she was like this, it seemed to help. He found it very strange but didn't dwell much on it. It wasn't too important.
He had thought about backing away but instead began talking carefully. "You're okay now. No, you're not okay. Not really. However you're not there. No one can hurt you, now. You're safe, Molly." His sentences were broken and clipped but it was clear he was trying to gain control of the situation. Depending on which way you were looking at it you were seeing the two sides of the man crouched in front of the very unstable Dr. Hooper.
Dr. Marlena Kilpatrick could see it too as she sat with her legs crossed - one overlapping the others. She smiled as she looked out at the exchange that on the outside looked very intimate. It was anything but that. It was possibly a bit more than that. Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper indeed have a history with one another. It is not hard to decipher that through the glances that look both uneasy but grateful and the touches that look both awkward yet gentle. There is something underlying there that not even the most best profiler which she wasn't would be able to see at first glance.
As Sherlock had said, it would take digging to get to the real issue here. There was a solution at present but how long would that last. He had been right about something else of course. Molly did need to reveal what had happened but not to a stranger. She needed to tell Sherlock Holmes. His view was the only one that matter, anyway.
Marlena was only there for guidance. Now they could do their part.
She was quiet as she left the two of them in silence.
He bought her coffee again nearly an half an hour later and placed a phone in her hand. He pulled another that looked more used from his pocket and began tapping away on it before the one in her lap startled her as it vibrated and made a beeping noise. A text message.
Molly looked up at Sherlock as she unlocked the screen of the phone and clicked on the little icon with the mail icon and saw a message from SH.
She arched her brow at him as she read the one worded message:
Hello. - SH
Molly just looked at him confused before seeing Sherlock sigh and began tapping away again. Another beep.
It is polite to reply when someone says hello. - SH
Molly read the message and proceeded to roll her eyes at him before typing a short reply.
I'm not an idiot. What is this?
Sherlock took a seat back in the chair at her desk and went back to a phone.
Texting. I thought that was obvious. - SH
I repeat, I'm NOT an idiot. Explain.
Sherlock looked up at Molly and sighed before slowly typing out a reply, reading it over a few times and then reluctantly hitting send. He picked up one of the stapled sets of papers from her desk and began looking it over more so to seem like he was doing something than to the fact he was waiting for her to reply.
Communication. Since well, I can't actually talk to you and understand this seems easier. Problem? - SH
Molly looked up at him as she read the message a few times and tried not to smile. He was trying. A very big part of her appreciated this gesture. Especially since not too long ago he had kicked her out of his house. It was a new day it seemed.
Thank you.
What would you like to know?
She sent two separate message before grabbing her coffee. She wasn't giving in. She just was tired and was willing to compromise as he seemed to be trying to be helpful. She could give a little too. Just a little.
She took a couple gulps of her coffee before reading a new message.
What caused the cut and scarring under your neck? - SH
Molly took in a few deep breaths as she tried to think of that moment without as little as many details as possible. She could tell him the smallest bit of it. She wasn't ready to go into this.
A scalpel and a hammer. Probably helped that two people were also holdimg me down. If you need to know my larynx is completely gone.
How do you know that? - SH
I am a pathologist. I know where every vital organ of the body is supposed to be. I know what it feels like when a part of if goes missing. There is a first time for everything.
Were you awake? - SH
Sherlock had put the paper down and was now staring at her. Molly had a feeling that this probably would be more important than the fact that they were finally talking about this. She also felt that if she could actually speak she wouldn't have been able to say it without breaking down.
This was that point where my mind seemed to go on autopilot and she began crying quietly. She was thankfully not a horrible crier. Her hands were shaking as she messily typed out the message and hit send. She messed up several times before being able to hit send.
Sherlock had been able to tell the moment she read the message that this was the moment that would trying change everything. Everything else was just child play before this. He knew that the answer would be yes too. She couldn't have been so upset as she was now if it was no, could she?
He hadn't really been prepared for what lay ahead in that single message. It was destructing.
It's the last thing I remember.
It was almost like nothing registered after that because it really confused him when three more messages appeared after that one. Each longer than the predecessors.
I thought of you while I was fading out. You probably think it's silly. I have always done such silly things though haven't I?
I wished you would have figured me out sooner. You can't when I'm not really in front of you. I'm not that important. I'm not John or Mrs. Hudson.
I was just so angry but hopeful. I wanted you to rescue me from that pain. It was horrible. The feeling of my bones being crushed only to get to this point. To silence me because to that woman I counted only in the most horrible way in her eyes. I hated you in that moment because you could have found a way out. You always find a way. I am not you, nor will I pretend to be. I am just Molly. That's it.
Sherlock didn't have to pretend anymore that he didn't care what happened now. It had been clear to him the exact moment the second day of her absence that he hadn't locked away that part of him that acted like her appearance in his life wasn't important. It always was. It always would be.
He hadn't been able to say it at first because he was in shock after reading those very powerful messages. He locked his phone and pocketed it as he stood up. Molly was standing in the smallest corner of the room with hand over her mouth as she held the phone in the other hand which was laying against her side.
She was crying, he noticed first before the fact that she was shaking again. Her emotions were at it's highest level, he knew as he began walking to her slowly. At this moment it was obvious that this was more than something easy to get over. This was the ultimate form of trauma. The unsettling idea that she lay in her own pool of blood dying and no one was looking for her. Him, most importantly.
It was also the ultimate lie, Sherlock knew.
He was standing a measly three feet away as began to talk. He had no plan for this but he had to let her know the truth. "Your thoughts are the things that betray you more than the reality of anything. You thought in that moment that I had forgotten about you, that I knew that you would find your way back to London if that wasn't where you were. That I wouldn't look for you at all. If you thought this to be the truth you don't know me very well.
I started looking for you after the second day that you were absent from this place. I came here two days back to back to share a bit of a big idea with you and you didn't show. I began looking that second day because I knew something was wrong. I texted you more times than I think I've ever messaged anyone. I do care despite what you think of me. I never stopped searching for you until my arse of a brother basically told me in many ways that my attempts were futile. He could not find you. The yard are a bunch of morons a part from Lestrade, of course. You disappeared and all I heard every day until the moment you arrived back in my vicinity was "She'll be back" from John. It drove me insane for weeks. The cases were just not intriguing to take my mind away from the fact that you had just left the face of the earth with no trace. I never thought to look for answers in the one place you love more than anything. You left the small trail here, hidden in plain sight.
I never stopped looking for you, Molly. Despite what you thought and what you may think you are not insignificant. You do count and that is why I will continue to search for you if you ever drift away again."
Molly stood there frozen in front of him for awhile just staring at him as if she had seen some sort of alien. He wasn't surprised. He had just said something both baffling and very sentimental when you think about it. He meant all of it though.
Molly Hooper was an important aspect in his life and he wouldn't let that change as long as he could help it. He watched as she tapped the few fingers picking that were resting against her lips for a few seconds after she came out of the shock that came with that bit of a proclamation from the man in front of her. She balled her hand into a fist before flattening it over her lips and pushing her lips against it and letting it go.
Sherlock asked it before he could really process what that was. Was it sign language or was she literally do that towards him? "What does that mean?"
Molly pulled the phone up towards her face with the other hand and typed out a quick message before placing it in her pocket.
Sherlock dug his out of his pocket as it beeped.
Thank you.
...
Molly and Sherlock arrived back to Baker Street a few hours later after a trip to Angelo's for dinner and a small walk through the park because it felt nice outside, Sherlock's idea. John was talking with someone really trying to calm them down when the duo made their way up the stairs.
Molly was the first to enter and Sherlock could hear a bit of a one-sided argument going on which meant that Molly was the other counterpart. Who was this person, he wondered as he made his way up quickly.
He stilled upon closer inspection as he realized what was happening before the woman yelled at him, saying "Everything horrible happens to her every since you appeared in her life. I am taking her as far away from her as possible. Stay away, Sherlock Holmes."
Molly looked upset as she gestured wildly with her hands in a way that Sherlock got the feeling she was trying to stand up for him as she had pointed at him but her mother wasn't having any of that. She grabbed her hand and told her to stop that before pulling her down the stairs, unwillingly.
There was another fellow in the flat still looking quite annoyed at what just happened. "She doesn't know much about you except what she's read in the papers. Nor does she listen to reason or know what Molly was just saying. I'll get it sorted out though. It's what I do in this family, anyway. I will see you soon, Mr. Holmes. Dr. Watson thanks for trying to help."
Sherlock merely nodded before the man exited the flat. He walked over to the window as John began talking and looked out the window to see the man walking to another car. There had been two on the street that he had paid no attention to originally.
"What just happened, Sherlock?"
"I believe Ms. Hooper just took her daughter away."
"Aren't you going to do anything about it?"
"There is nothing to do currently, John. You don't mess with a mother's wish." Sherlock said as he grabbed his violin and began what began as a happy tune and formed into a very twisted symphony.
John just sighed. This was not good. Not good at all.
Oh my god. I am literally too exhausted after writing all of this to say much. It is almost midnight which means I did get it up today and that makes me happy. I had an idea for this chapter, there was supposed to be this event but the storyline had a plan of it's own and it came out this way. I quite like it still. I wanna know what y'all think? This is quite long. It's scary that I did this all in one day but I hope you enjoyed. This story kinda kills my soul in the most torturous way. Thank you all so much for your lovely feedback. It makes me so happy that sometimes there are tears haha
I will see you soon in the final part also know as number five. Not too soon but soon.
much love,
day