Sorry to leave you on a cliff hanger for so long but I'm glad you appreciated the last chapter. So Sherlock has been an inconsiderate ass once again to his best friend let's see the fall out.
Chapter 9 - Devastation
For a moment there was an eerie silence in the morgue, the echoing sound of the gunshot temporarily blocking out all other noise.
Then Molly came back to herself when she saw John drop to his knees an inhuman wail of sorrow on his lips. 'No, God, please no, not again. Sherlock, not again.'
She saw him pick up Sherlock's boneless body in his arms and press it to his own. God she was going to kill Sherlock for this one.
She quickly moved over to them kneeling at the side of John, her hands on his shoulders, 'please John listen to me, this isn't what it looks like. He isn't dead...at least damnit!' She closed her eyes willing herself not to cry. She didn't know if she felt tears of rage at what Sherlock had just done or tears of sorrow for the pain that was rolling off John in waves.
'John, look at me.' She tried to pull his head round to her using her hands but he shook her off clutching at Sherlock's body as though she would take it if he let go even one iota. 'Please, he's not dead...' At that moment the phone to the morgue rang, 'shit' Molly stumbled to her feet suspecting someone had heard the noise and was ringing to check she was OK. The last thing she needed was anyone coming down to check on the situation.
She answered, trying as best she could to control her breathing and make sure she sounded as normal as possible. 'Molly Hooper'.
'Molly, it's Mike, is everything alright? I thought I heard a noise.'
'Yes, Mike it's fine. I just knocked over a trolley with my instruments on..you know how clumsy I can be. I'm fine though and nothing's broken.'
'Not again! Well OK try to be more careful though Molly.'
'Yes, sorry, will do.' She put the phone down and leant her head on her hand momentarily before turning back to John.
He was watching her, confusion written all over his face, tears still crisscrossing his cheeks.
She looked him right in the eye, 'he's not dead John. Trust me. He's just...testing a theory about Jim...James. Look at me, you know I'm right. If he were dead I would not be this calm. Although to be honest I'm not so much calm as furious with him. You have to believe me.'
'How...Molly...how can you say that? He has no pulse...' His voice broke, a sob heaving up through his body. He sank his face back into Sherlock's jacket.
Molly had no idea how long the recovery process would take, but she knew she needed to get Sherlock's body out of sight and clean up the mess he'd caused. 'Please John we need to move him. We can't let anyone see him like this, it's too dangerous. I can't explain it all now but I will if you would just help me.' She spoke slowly as though to a scared child.
She stood and wheeled one of the gurneys over to where John and Sherlock were. Gently she tried to pull Sherlock's body from John's hold.
All of a sudden John grasped her arm, his grip was desperate and painful but Molly didn't pull away. She looked at him and waited. He spoke through gritted teeth, 'if you are right I will fucking kill him myself. But OK I am going to go along with this but only because...' He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, 'only because the alternative is too painful.'
He stood and between them they placed Sherlock's body onto the trolley. Molly swiftly covered him with a sheet and wheeled it back into position. Now if she could just clean up the blood stains on the wall and floor he would just look like another body in the morgue.
Fifteen minutes later she was sat opposite a shaking John, both of them sipping at their coffees. Molly knew she needed to give the wall, floor and ceiling a more thorough clean with bleach but she had got the worst off and she had been wary about leaving John for too long. He had spent the time she was cleaning stood by Sherlock's shrouded 'corpse' his hand on Sherlock's chest.
'Right, tell me everything.'
'John, I don't even know where to start.'
'I suggest you start at the beginning Molly.'
So she did, she told him what Sherlock had told her about his encounter with Irene, about the changes that had taken place, that she had seen with her own eyes. She didn't tell him about the sex, she was too embarrassed and didn't know whether Sherlock would want John to know but she told him Sherlock had taken her blood, shown him the silvery, almost invisible marks on her neck.
John listened, mostly in silence, just asking a couple of questions here and there.
When she'd finished he put his cup down and stood up walking round the morgue until he ended up stood by Sherlock once more.
'Molly, this is ridiculous, you are seriously asking me to believe in...what, vampires?'
He was silent again for a moment, 'I want to believe you, I really do, but I can't.' He turned to face her and she could see that he was crying once more, 'Molly...he's gone. I know you want that not to be true but it is.'
As if on cue Sherlock let out a groan. Molly was on her feet and by his side in seconds pulling the sheet off his face. 'Sherlock, it's me, Molly, how are you feeling?'
'Like shit, remind me not to do that too often.' He started to raise himself up leaning on his elbows.
Molly suddenly remembered John and turned to find him as far away from her and Sherlock as the room would allow. His face was rigid with shock, tears still damp on his cheek. She saw the shock and fear slowly melt off his face to be replaced with anger. 'You...you fucking bastard. I will kill you. I will actually kill you.'
'Seriously John, I just blew my own brains out and didn't die what makes you think you can manage it.'
Before Molly could react John was running towards them, his fists clenched. 'No, John wait, he's still recovering.' As he reached the trolley, however, Sherlock blurred across to the opposite side of the room, 'now John, I'm sure Molly explained, I'm faster and stronger. This wouldn't be a fair fight anymore. You just need to calm down.
John looked at Molly as though he couldn't believe what Sherlock had just said, 'calm down? I need to calm down. Maybe if I wasn't friends with you I wouldn't fucking need to calm down.' John was almost roaring his words by the time he had finished.
'You know when you faked your own death and didn't tell me I thought we had hit rock bottom in our relationship but I was wrong. This...this is rock bottom Sherlock. I don't even know where to start...'
'John, be honest. Would you have believed me if I had just told you? Did you believe Molly? I needed to prove to myself that Moriarty could have survived if he is what I am and I needed you to accept and believe what I am. It was just like pulling off a plaster, I knew the pain would be short and swift but you believe, you can accept the truth now and we can move on. If Moriarty is alive we need to find him and stop him, and I need you to do that.'
John pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply. Molly felt sorry for him, she really did, his mind must be all over the place right now.
'Maybe you just need to give John some time Sherlock, it's a lot to take in, believe me I know.' She turned to John, 'why don't you go home? Come round to Baker St tomorrow lunchtime, you'll probably have questions by then and Sherlock can answer them.'
John nodded, 'yeah OK Molls, I take it you'll be OK?'
She touched the top of his arm, 'I'll be fine John, give my love to Mary and the baby, OK?'
John seemed to sag wearily, the adrenaline of the last half an hour starting to leave his body. 'Yes, will do.'
He left the room without even acknowledging or looking at Sherlock. Once he'd gone Sherlock made his way over to Molly, 'well that went well, once I realised what Moriarty was I knew he must have survived...Ow, what was that for?'
Molly's hand stung she had slapped Sherlock that hard but it didn't stop her slapping him again. 'I cannot believe you actually did that...you cold, heartless, insensitive bastard!'
'I get why John is angry but why are you upset Molly, surely you knew I'd be OK.'
She turned away so he wouldn't see the tears that were now coursing down her cheeks, 'no, I didn't know you would be OK, you couldn't possibly have known 100% that you would survive that. What if you hadn't Sherlock? What if you hadn't? And you left me to explain to John...you have no idea how painful it was. He thought you were dead Sherlock...dead.'
He came up behind her putting his hands on her shoulders; she shrugged him off hugging her arms round her chest. 'Just go Sherlock.'
'I...I'm sorry Molly, I didn't...I never seem to...I'm just sorry.' She heard him sigh before picking up his coat and the gun and leaving the morgue.
Oh, Sherlock's in trouble yet again, he proved his theory right but at what cost. I love to hear your thoughts and reactions so let me know your opinions.
