Greeting to fellow readers, I'm new at this so please forgive mistakes and if you have any helpful tips please feel free to leave a review. Reviews make the world a better place. If you plan to leave a review that is rude, I will not respond. This story does not have a beta. Any suggestions are also welcome and now, back to the story. *This follows up from season three, so spoiler alert*
Chapter 4
The cold Maine air greets her like an old friend. She breathes deeply, happy to see the dark blue sky and tall towering trees. She rented a cabin in Mi-woods, Maine on a whim. She suddenly craved the silence and privacy. The medical examiner's office confirmed she could start in two weeks' time, so she decided to look into other things. Sleep and food, for example.
The cabin was beautiful, with two rooms and a spacious living area. It came with a kitchen so Molly was excited to start cooking. Cooking used to be therapeutic till she lost interest in eating. "Well, that's going to change. A hot shower and perhaps a cup of cocoa. Then lots of sleep", she gleefully plotted. It's been awhile since she'd felt this free. The chains that held her captive have been thrown off in London. "I will not think. I don't want to think. I just need to learn how to live by the hour", she distractedly thinks while admiring the view of the lake in the living room. The cabin had a fireplace with all the workings of a typical hunting cabin. She loved it.
The bed was big and so comfortable; she resisted the urge to curl into the quilt and sleep. It was twilight now, and the stars were out blinking awake from their sleep from day. She could hear crickets, was it crickets? She didn't give a damn about what it was, it was just wonderful to be away from cars, buses, rude people and the clogged air of London. "Stop, stop there", she told her mind quietly. "That's all I'm glad to be away from, for now." She threw off her travelling clothes, goose bumps appearing on her skin because of the chilly air and stepped into the shower and tuned everything off.
Wrapping herself in a thick cotton yukata, she went to the kitchen to make the cup of cocoa. "Oh what the heck, I'll throw in the marshmallows too", she laughed and got to work. Laughing felt good. She didn't laugh or joke around much in general and when she was with Tom she'd been pretty much the same. Tom. That relationship was a lifetime ago. They'd broken it off a few days after Sherlock returned. She didn't feel too bad about it though, she was used to it. "Perhaps one day I can write a book about all the fuck ups I've subjected myself to", she mused while stirring the milk into the cocoa.
Meanwhile in London...
John still could not believe that he saw his friend (best friend at times, depending on what skullduggery Sherlock was doing) shoot a man point blank. Sherlock just killed a man and shrugged it off. Well, not shrugged it off but it was unsettling how he made the decision to take a life in a split second. And Sherlock had said, "Give me love to Mary, John", then turned away to face the guns. The finality of the moment was still sending tremors to his whole being. John could have lost his friend, all over again.
Sherlock looked down from the plane; it was gaining altitude after the takeoff minutes ago. He didn't say goodbye to Molly. He wanted to. He wanted to fix this puzzle. Why was he getting attached to her? Why kiss her on the cheek? Why look her in the eyes? Why take her slaps and her anger AND feel disgusted with himself for letting her down? He'd never wanted any sort of intimate relationship with a woman and why does he feel a void developing in him now?
"Sir, it's your brother", Sherlock turned away from the window and took the offered phone. "Brother dear...England needs you".
An omnipresent being watches from the shadows. It welcomes the east wind to bring disaster to all.