It was cold, dark and damp. Molly awoke in a dungeon built with stone. There were broken chains on the floor beside her. She immediately realized this must have been where Sherlock used to stay during full moons before they met.
"Good, you're awake," Irene spoke as she stepped into the dungeon. "It's boring when your prisoner is unconscious." Molly immediately tried to use her magic to pin the posh woman to the wall, but nothing happened.
"What"—Molly noticed the necklace around Irene's neck—"you're wearing bloodstone."
"Observant little witch," Irene smirked. "it's a good thing there are gemstones that protect others from magic."
"What do you want with me?" she asked.
"Nothing, really," Irene replied. "It's more that I want you to stay away from Sherlock."
"You don't scare me," she shot back.
"Stay away from him, Miss Hooper," she snarled.
"Over my dead body," Molly fumed.
"That, my dear, can be arranged," she spoke, flashing her fangs.
Sherlock was full of worry when he and John couldn't find Molly anywhere in her flat. He would have lost hope of finding her soon if it hadn't been for the blood red fake nail on her bedroom floor.
"John, go home," he told him
"What? No, Sherlock, if you know where Molly is, I'm helping," John argued. "I don't care how out of my depth I am."
"Irene took her," Sherlock informed him.
"The dominatrix? Why?" he asked.
"She's a vampire and we have to hurry," he spoke as he threw on his Belstaff.
They arrived in Belgravia as quickly as possible, but not before hearing a bloodcurdling scream.
Irene's fangs sunk into Molly's neck, intending to drain her completely. Molly took advantage of their proximity and yanked the necklace from around Irene's neck. She felt the fangs come out of her skin. Molly screamed to heighten her power against the undead woman, pinning her to the stone wall.
"Now, you listen to me," Molly snapped. "I don't know what you want with Sherlock, but you will not be laying a finger on him, do you understand?"
"Oh, darling, I've already laid my fingers on him," Irene quipped. The innuendo was obvious. "I intended to make him a hybrid; half vampire, half werewolf."
"And if I don't want to be?" Sherlock's baritone voice boomed like an echo throughout the dungeon. John stayed close behind.
"Oh, but why wouldn't you? You'd be so much more powerful," her eyes glowed with the possibility.
"Do you honestly think that power is what I want? I can hardly stand this curse my family is under, but it has been tolerable since I found Molly," Sherlock told her. "And seeing the puncture wound in her neck is most intolerable." He was growling at Irene now. "You hurt my Molly."
"She would've been dead already if it were up to me," Irene hissed. "But it seems Moriarty failed after what I went through to conjure him up again. It seems if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself."
"Hold my coat, John," Sherlock told him, handing him his Belstaff. "Stand back." With a roar, he transformed, immediately lunging for Irene. Molly jumped back slightly but put an invisible wall between him and Irene.
"Sherlock, don't," she ordered. "You're better than this. I know you are." Molly kneeled down beside him without an ounce of fear. He cocked his head to the side in confusion, a slight whine sounding from him as his eyes locked on the blood dripping from her wound. Approaching her slowly, Sherlock darted his tongue out to clean the puncture marks, also healing it quickly with his saliva. Molly wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his fur.
"As nauseatingly sweet as this reunion is, I need what I want," she sneered, tackling Sherlock to the ground. Irene attempted to nip at him but he fought her every advance. He did not want to be a hybrid and refused to give in. She slammed him into the stone wall, breaking the firm structure with his strength. Moonlight streamed through the cracks but it wouldn't be long before dawn arrived. Irene dug a sharp nail into Sherlock's fur, drawing blood. He yelped and howled at the pain.
"Pain," Molly spoke flatly, her eyes focused on Irene who crumbled into a fetus position on the ground, her hands cradling her head. She screamed out in agony. The dawn was arriving, sparks of sunlight find its way through, leaving burn marks on Irene's skin.
"Molly," Sherlock spoke, having shifted back. John covered his eyes as he threw the Belstaff to his friend. "Darling, look at me." He caressed her face in his hands and her eyes refocused on him. "There's my girl."
"Sherlock," it came out as a question. "I couldn't let her hurt you."
"Shhh, I know, it's okay," he comforted her. "I'll have Mycroft take care of her; lock her up at Sherrinford where my sister is currently." Molly held onto him tightly. "I'll take you back to Baker Street, okay? We'll have tea and you can stay with me tonight. Okay, darling?" She nodded and he led her out, John following behind, leaving Irene in the dungeon.
"Thank you for your help, John," Sherlock told him as they arrived at Baker Street. "Tell Mary I said hi."
"Mary? Mary Morstan?" Molly asked.
"Y-yeah, how did you know?" John questioned.
"She's in my coven…you didn't know, did you?" Molly explained.
"No, I—I didn't," he admitted. "But that explains a lot." He chuckled slightly.
Sherlock and Molly exited the cab and went up to his flat. He lifted her, not without wincing in pain, and settled her on the sofa.
"Sit," she told him.
"I'm not a dog," he joked.
"Haha very funny," Molly laughed. "Seriously, though, sit down." Sherlock did as he was told. He felt her fingers skimming his hot skin as she slid the coat off of his shoulders. His back was all scratched up and already bruising. He growled slightly when she traced the wounds with her finger tips, but felt the pain slowly ebb away. She was healing him with magic.
"Molly," he sighed with pleasure when her lips pressed against the back of his shoulder. He was completely bare to her and wanted nothing more than to give her the love she deserved.
"I think tea will have to wait," she smirked, reading his mind. "You think so loudly."
"Can you blame me?" he replied, capturing her lips with his.
"Mmm, think I can make you howl in human form?" Molly flirted.
"Only one way to find out," he murmured before scooping her up in his arms, eliciting a surprised squeal from her, carrying her off to the bedroom.
Sherlock held her in his arms, turning her hand over in his. He was admiring the moonstone ring on her finger. He had suddenly proposed whilst in the throes of passion, murmuring the words 'marry me' to her. She accepted him quite enthusiastically. Now, they lay together in the aftermath, basking in the glow of it all.
"It's even more gorgeous in person," Molly remarked as her ring glittered in the light streaming through the windows.
"Only for you," he replied with a smile. "I love you, my darling Molly."
"And I you, my love," she whispered, nuzzling her nose against his. They lazily kissed one another until they drifted off to sleep one by one. The worst was over and their predetermined future was beginning. They found comfort in each other's arms, the pain of the past wiped away. It was a brand new day, after all.
Author's Note: This was quite fun to write oh my goodness! There will be only one more chapter after this...the epilogue. :)
