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Chapter 7: There's a Mystery Afoot!
John stood looking at Sherlock, stunned… along with Greg. I could see where this was going.
John looked at Sherlock in a rage, and swung at him. Greg joining in apparently. Sherlock knew this was going to happen and braced himself for the punches from the ex-military officer and cop.
"Where the bloody hell have you been, Sherlock?! It's been six months… six months! Do you have any idea what I have been through?!" John yelled at him.
"Yes, I do." Sherlock said calmly wiping the little remnants of blood from his mouth, caused by both John and Greg.
"You, you… bastard!" Greg said fuming. I winced because I knew why he chose what he did; he did it to protect them. I wanted to shout at them, but Sherlock gave me a re-assuring smile, knowing what my thought was, so I stopped.
"You come back from the dead six months later and just say hello?!"John said to him, voice rising.
"I had to wait for the time when the rest of Moriarty's network discovered that I wasn't truly dead." He finished.
"You ass… you inconsiderate ass!" Greg yelled again. Sherlock just stood there looking past them, at me. I could see the pain they inflicted on him in his eyes. It bothered him. He had hoped that it may be easier, but I guess assuming that would be wrong.
"Sherlock, you must be slipping, you let me and Lestrade punch you square in the jaw." John scoffed.
"No. You are wrong, I allowed that to happen. Also, it'll make what I am about to do so much easier. I'm sorry, Molly." A smirk played on his lips. Why was he sorry? What was he sorry for?
Then I discovered. Sherlock pulled back in a flash and punched Greg in the face. John's and my eyes went wide.
"That was for going on a date with my pathologist and kissing her neck!" Sherlock growled.
"Sherlock!" I peeped. I was surprised at his outburst, which then made me look to John in worry.
"No!" But it was too late. Sherlock already punched John in the face. I had to almost stifle a laugh from the comedic value of it all. The look on John's face was pure bafflement.
"And that was for… snogging my Molly." He looked at John. Then John looked back at me, eyes wide in realization. His Molly… ahem, well then…
"You knew! You knew he was alive?! Of course you did! You helped him, didn't you?! Why didn't I see that… I should've known you would do anything for the bloke! With nothing in return…" John seethed.
"For months you pretended to comfort me. Months! I trusted you! When really you had him shacked up with you! Of course! Your dream came true!" He spat out at me.
It was true. I was happy being around and living with Sherlock. So much changed; his way of viewing me changed and the way we acted with each other changed. I was happy, do I not deserve it?
"Don't blame her John, I asked for her help. She didn't tell you, because of me. I made it absolutely certain that you would have no clue I was still alive. She didn't like it any more than you liked me being dead." He said to him. "So I suggest you remain calm, she has been the one protecting me, John." Sherlock took a look at me and motioned for me to come to him.
I went and he put his arm around me and kissed my forehead. I looked up to him and smiled.
"Wait… you two? You two are together?!" John said in our direction, stunned.
"It's not like that John, we have just… adjusted the terms of our friendship so to speak." Sherlock said to him.
I looked up at him, and I couldn't hide the hurt in my eyes. I suppose it was foolish to think that he would change. That things would stay as they are and John and Sherlock could go back to doing what they do best, solving crimes. That I would be by Sherlock's side helping him and just relishing in the connection we had for one another.
"You should probably let her know that before telling everyone else, you sod!" John looked angry again. But I thought he was mad at me? He looked at me with such emotion in his eyes, and I began to cry. I tried not showing it, to remain strong. To show Sherlock, that no… not moving in a relationship would be perfectly fine with me, that I could handle going back to mousy Molly Hooper again. It was about time really. I sighed.
Sherlock looked down at me with a strange expression on his face. It couldn't be sadness, could it? I mean… He just said that we only shag together and that's it. That's all he had to say. It broke my heart.
"I—I need some air." I said as I looked away from them all and ran out the morgue. I went to the back entrance to St. Bart's just to not be seen. I began crying, even louder then, because I know no one would hear me.
If I had sex—made love to Sherlock, and what happened between us in that entire six month span wasn't enough for him to develop feelings for me, nothing would be.
I leaned against the stone wall and fell to my feet crying.
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Sherlock's POV
I looked at John from across the room. His pulse was quickening, face was red. He was shaking and breathing heavily. He was obviously angry. I knew this would be a shock to him, which is why I didn't want to confront him or anyone in the first place. I wanted to wait until Adler had more leads on who was currently running Moriarty's network, if anyone was running the network. But the bodies were a sure sign that the network had not disappeared, so what was the point in hiding anymore? They knew I was alive.
"Wonderful, Sherlock. Just wonderful." John said to me.
"What? Look, I apologi—"
"Not to me you prat, to bloody Molly!" he fumed. Nostrils flared, and brow furrowing, he was becoming agitated, at me.
"She was your lifeline, for six months! She did everything you asked of her and more, by the way two have been acting, and you act like what she did was nothing?" His voice was rising, and I could hear the rumble in his voice.
"Have I made a mistake? Yes, Molly was there for me when I needed her. I would've done the same, she is my friend. I said thank you and frequently let her know of my appreciation, so I don't see the problem here."
"You know for how brilliant a man you are, you can certainly be an idiot." John said to me. I flinched. I am not an idiot.
"I don't understand what you mean. I am the furthest thing from an idiot, John."
"Could've fooled me." Lestrade said to me mockingly.
"Do not give me any more reasons to not like you Detective Inspector." I seethed. I wanted to do more than punch him in the face, I wanted to strangle him and scream at him in anger at what he thought he was doing with Molly that night. Where in that tiny normal mind of his made him think it would be a good Idea?
"Why did it bother you so much that Molly went on a date with Lestrade then?" John was beginning to smirk. He was teasing me; did he really think it would work?
"I simply didn't understand why he would do such a trivial thing when he had other prospects—"
"Women you mean. You wondered why he had to go to Molly when he could have anyone else. The thought of him pursuing Molly infuriated you. Still does." John claimed.
"Wonderful deduction, John. But you don't get any credit since it's written all over my face!" My voice rose.
"But you still haven't answered me… why do you care?"
"I don't understand what you mean I made—"
"Why do you care, Sherlock?" John asked again.
I looked away from him, as I knew I couldn't hide the answer from my features. What did Molly Hooper do to me? She gave me the opportunity to express my feelings. I felt warm and comfortable and could openly show myself to her without any scoffs from John, or berating from Mycroft.
"Ah… I see." John said.
"You see nothing John!" I yelled. John looked at me surprised at my outburst.
"Look what she has done to you, Sherlock… you have a heart." Lestrade said in an almost pathetic way. He made it feel like having the emotions…emotions? I had right now were pitiful and frivolous. Maybe they were.
"I have been told by you as well as numerous others that I do not possess a heart, or emotions for that matter." I brushed the both of them off and began walking towards the bodies. I grabbed a pair of latex gloves and stared at the etching on each of the bodies. When I got to the last one, the one that resembled Molly, I felt a pang in my chest. What was that?
The body's eyes closed, swooping blonde-brown hair over her features. I imagined her eyes open to show the wonderful brown that Molly's eyes held. The woman looked like Molly when she was sleeping, in my arms… but I knew it wasn't her. Her skin wasn't as pale as Molly's, she was about 4 pounds heavier, and her figure was less curvy than hers, her nails manicured, unlike Molly, because of all her work at the lab.
"Molly never told you that." John stated.
"I'm sorry, what?" I said still looking down at the body, the etching looked to be used by a scalpel of some sort.
"She never told you, you didn't have a heart. In fact, she knew you did. She knew what you were capable of. Even more now than before." John walked up closer to me. He looked cautious; like he was worried I would lunge at him at any moment. I most likely would've under any other circumstance. I hate people deducing me, being able to see through the mask I put up to maintain what I am, 'the world's only Consulting Detective'. I needed to keep my mind clear. I needed to not express emotions. Emotions compromise people, make them vulnerable and a target. Molly made me express my emotion, which makes her a liability, and with her in my life, it opens up the possibility that I could be vulnerable. I can't afford that.
"It's a necessary sacrifice, John. Just like what I did six months ago." I finished.
"I would only produce danger in Molly Hooper's already not so normal life. She needs to be normal." I trailed off. I was lying to myself. Molly was anything but normal. She was extraordinary. She came from a family of boys, mother died at birth, so she was raised with her two brothers and father who died a couple years ago. She was extremely close to him, as she often wore his old shirts when she wasn't having a good day. She had photos of them in her apartment. You could tell by the frequent phone calls of her older brothers that they were protective of her, and it surprised me that her family let her pursue a life in pathology. Molly later told me they didn't. They didn't approve of her life choices, but she said it was her dream. I saw so much of myself in her. When she let her nervousness and fear down, she was a remarkably strong woman. Dedicated, smart and loyal. She would do anything for those she cared about. I knew she would.
"Just drop it John—"
"I'm not dropping it Sherlock!" he berated me. He looked at me and sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "You are incredibly lucky that woman loves you the way she does. Women can only take so much hurt before they are completely done!" he stormed out; to find Molly I'm sure. He wouldn't find her as fast as I would though. I left the lab and went to the only place that she knew no one would find her. Making it a place no one would find you, makes it an even more obvious choice.
I found her on the ground at the back of Bart's. Her head in her hands, hair covering her face. I could hear a sound coming from her… she was crying. I walked over silently to try and get her attention when she spoke to me.
"Leave me alone." She let out. I flinched back like her words had slapped me.
"Molly, please…"
"No!" She stood up looking at me with tears in her eyes. They were sparkling. Her hands were in fists and she was shaking, and breathing deeply. She was angry, but she was trying to calm down.
"Everything… everything I have ever done for you, all these years…" She looked up at me and the look on her face hurt me deeply. Her tears were flowing freely now and I could hear her sniffle and whimper.
"Come inside Molly, its cold and beginning to rain." I said coming closer to her.
"I will. And I will help you with this case, because I always do. But after this, I am done. I am done helping you Sherlock Holmes!" She cried out running past me into the building.
I stood in shock. Not help me? When would she ever not help me? She always helped me. I went back inside and headed towards the lab. When I got closer I saw her speaking to John shaking her head, to reassure him of her feelings I'm sure.
I went inside and looked at the bodies. Whoever this 'SM' was, he knew just how to get me. I tried to see if the words that were etched on their bodies may have had any specific meaning.
"Bring… Sherlock… Back… Home…" I said aloud to no one in particular. But John, Molly and Lestrade heard me as I was looking over the bodies.
"Well, yes, we can all read, thank you Sherlock…" Lestrade said to me mockingly.
"You sure, Lestrade? I always worried." I smirked.
"Stop it, both of you. This is important and I would like to get some work done before the end of my shift." Molly said to everyone boldly. I looked at her with surprise, along with John and Lestrade. She began to waver as her face turned red to the attention, but she stood her ground.
"Do you think the choice of words are important?" John asked.
"It's not the words, really. It's the choice of the bodies the words were written on… Lestrade's doppleganger has the word 'Bring' written on his chest…"
"By the coloration, the words were etched onto the bodies after death." Molly chimed in.
"Exactly, Molly. Which means he chose his words wisely for each body. Bring…."
"Well, Lestrade brings us unsolved cases to work on…" John said.
"Excellent deduction John! And 'Sherlock' on the body meant to be Mrs. Hudson…. Represents me. She knew me before all of you. The only person I let close to me until you came along, John." I trailed off.
"I get it… he's linking the words to the representation the people who have had an impact in your life." Lestrade added.
"Good job Lestrade! Someone get him a cookie." I quipped.
"But why does the one who looks like me, have the word 'back' etched into his body? It doesn't have a meaning." John added.
I looked at him, for being so foolish; for not understanding the meaning of the word being tied to him. It almost angered me...his utter obliviousness. Molly came closer to touch the body, holding back tears.
"You brought him back, John." Molly said. "You made him enjoy cases again. You made it exciting. He had someone to share all those wonderful things with." She looked to him with a smile on her face. But I saw the sadness there. I wanted to hug her and hold her all night for the brilliance she had. She sees so much, and is so underestimated, even by me. Instead of hugging her I 'hmm'ed'.
"Ah…" John spit out. "Then what about the body that represents you, Molly?" He asked looking at her.
"I…I don't know." She said and I involuntarily scoffed.
"What was that supposed to mean, Sherlock?" She said to me voice rising.
"You know you do, you just don't want to say it." I looked away from her dismissively examining the body that resembled her.
"They took better care with the etching on the body that resembles Molly."
"Used a scalpel instead of the serrated item they used on the others. The writing looks almost… whimsical." She trailed off.
"That was the point. It's supposed to look… beautiful." I said, looking at her. "You know damn well why they wrote 'home' on that chest, Molly Hooper." I looked at her my eyes filling with emotions I have never felt, I hated it so much.
"Well whatever the reason was, it was obviously not true!" She took off her gloves and stormed into her office, slamming the door behind her.
"Wow… what was that about?" John looked at me puzzled.
"Do you two really use so little of your brain power that you can't figure it out?!" I yelled.
John began to look angry again. I can't take all of this emotion. I felt like picking the lock on Molly's door and shutting the rest of the world out, but she didn't want me around her either.
"Well what the hell am I—"
"Because she is home to me, John. That's why. They took their time, to represent the care I hold for her." I spit out. I sounded like a bumbling fool. "Whoever did this knows that Molly is important to me, that she makes me feel… at home." I trailed off looking away from the body. I couldn't look at the woman. I knew it wasn't Molly, I truly did, but it made it much worse knowing the really Molly was twenty feet away ignoring me.
"Oh…." John let out. "Oh…" He looked at me eyes wide.
"You lo—"
"Don't you dare utter those words John Watson!" I bellowed.
I don't understand the concept of love. I haven't even felt a real attraction to anyone or anything until I lived with Molly. She fascinated me. She always kept me wondering and guessing, and she enjoyed the work I did. We could talk about how the body decays over dinner and her not even flinch. That is definitely a rare quality in a woman.
"John, we can talk about this another time we need to foc—"
"I'm heading home. My shift is over and I have work in the morning." Molly stated while brushing past us.
"You don't have work in the morning, Molly. You work late all week." I said pulling out her schedule from my mind palace. She always alternated night and day shifts each week. One week day, another night, this was her night week.
"I'm covering for someone if it's any of your concern, so I need to go home and sleep. Good night, John." She said as she pecked him on the cheek. "Night Greg…" She went to him and did the same. I looked at her, wondering if she would kiss me good bye as well, but something told me she wouldn't. She looked me in the eyes, they were becoming glassy. This was hard for her. I am making life hard for her all over again.
"Goodbye, Sherlock." She looked me in the eyes; I could see the tears threatening to fall. Her face was flushed and breathing even, Her lips trembled. She was sad. I needed to be there. My body was aching to go to her, to comfort her, But I couldn't; logic wins out every time in my mind… doesn't it?
"Molly, wait!" I said as she ran out the morgue. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. I went to go back to work as I heard the doors of the morgue swing open. I looked up and saw Molly running towards me. It took so much concentration to not smile like a fool. She ran to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, fingers tousling my hair.
"If I never get an opportunity to do this again, then I will be a fool and have it one last time. Goodbye, Sherlock." She pressed her lips against mine with such emotion. My mind couldn't handle it. All thought went away as I just focused on her lips being on mine. I pulled her closely my one hand at the small of her back and the other in her hair. I heard her whimper and I held her tighter to me. I did not want to let her go, just… a little longer, Please Molly.
She pulled from me finally and looked me in the eyes. "I love you." She said to me as she dashed out the lab leaving me alone.
Hey! Sorry it took me so long everyone! I could not concentrate for the life of me today! I only have one chapter so far, I might post another when I get home tonight. I might be able to concentrate there. I usually write on my breaks at work. haha Let me all know what you think! Thanks!
