Disclaimer: I own nothing! I claim nothing! I'm just borrowing the characters for my own pleasure and the pleasure of whoever reads this!
Chapter Ten
Deletion
The nonsense had gone too far. Mycroft knew he should have cut the link long before now, should never have begun it to begin with. Now, he was simply correcting his mistake.
He had seen and heard every word, every text, every action between Sherlock and Molly, and it was time to end it. They had grown too close.
With one call, it would be over.
He made the call.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
Sherlock was on a case, one of the rare occasions when John was with him as well as Molly. He seemed happier, and John noticed.
"So, everything's good then?"
"What?" Sherlock said, looking up from his phone. "Yes, of course everything's good. Pay attention John. What do you see?"
John rolled his eyes, but looked up at the body hanging from the ceiling. Suicide, it looked like. "Male, somewhere between the ages of forty-five and fifty. It looks like he offed himself. Why are we here again?"
"Because it's not a suicide." Molly piped up, and Sherlock smirked. "Of course not Molly."
John sighed. Why did he even bother coming, when those two did that. Of course it wasn't a bloody suicide, he knew they wouldn't be here if it was.
Sherlock looked up at the body as well, and began a slow walk around it, holding the phone so she could see it as well.
"It's obvious that he was hanged after death, but not long after. two hours at most, because rigor mortis set in after he was suspended. He was actually strangled - with the rope being used to hold him up now, actually."
"Sherlock, what have you found?" Lestrade said, coming into the room.
"Ah, perfect timing Lestrade. Check the rope for DNA evidence. The murderer handled the rope, obviously, and there should be traces of it on the rope."
Lestrade nodded. "All right. I'll let you know what comes up."
Sherlock smirked, looking down at his phone once more. He went pale, and his smirk immediately fell away when he saw that Molly's spiral was gone. Not just uncolored or disconnected, but gone.
"Molly?"
No response.
He checked his contacts list. She wasn't there.
"John, we have to get to Baker's street. Now." He said, shoving past Lestrade as he bolted for the door, John right behind him.
"Sherlock, what's going on?"
"I don't know." He said, not caring about his admittance. He hailed a cab, and got inside, barely allowing John to get inside after him before barking the address to the driver.
"Sherlock, calm down, I'm sure it's nothing." John said, trying to calm him down.
"John, Molly has never disconnected completely from my phone, no matter what I've done. Something is wrong at Baker's street. I know it."
John stiffened slightly. Molly. The mysterious girl Sherlock only spoke to through his phone or laptop. She was at Baker's street?
His question was never asked, nor answered, because the cabbie stopped in front of the building just then. Sherlock didn't bother paying, getting out immediately and heading for the door. He left John to hand the man the correct notes before following him up.
"Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock asked, looking around for the land lady. She came bustling down from his flat.
"Sherlock dear, Mycroft's here. He said he was waiting for you. Is everything all right?"
Sherlock's gaze turned cold. "No Mrs. Hudson. Wait in your flat." He said, moving past her with John right behind him. There was nothing good about Mycroft being in 221B.
"What did you do?" Sherlock demanded the instant his eyes locked with Mycroft's. Mycroft rolled his eyes, setting his umbrella down before taking a seat.
"I disconnected the program, obviously." No regret or remorse in his voice, only disappointment, as though it was Sherlock's fault he had to act as he had.
"You what." Sherlock said, his voice low but still menacing.
"I disconnected the program, Sherlock. You have grown much to fond of the computer system. It was artificial intelligence, nothing more. A few codes, lined up in the proper sequence, created it, and a simple click has deleted it. It's for your own good little brother." Stoic, unfeeling Mycroft.
"Wait, what?" John asked, confused. What did a program have to do with Molly? "I thought we were coming here about Molly, Sherlock." He looked towards his friend, who appeared to be seriously contemplating murder.
"Doctor Watson, surely you are aware that Molly was just a program. I'm certain Sherlock told you quite often up until two months ago. He grew much to attached to it, so I thought it best to terminate the program. It obviously needs more work done. I can't have important people developing feelings for it after all."
With that, Sherlock lunged in an uncharacteristic show of violence, and it was only John's quick reflexes that stopped him before he reached Mycroft.
"She wasn't just a program! You killed her, you bastard!" Sherlock shouted, struggling against John's hold.
Mycroft simply dusted off his suit jacket and stood, picking up his umbrella once more. "I did nothing of the sort, Sherlock. It -"
"Get out Mycroft, before I let him go on purpose. Molly was more human than you are, obviously." John said calmly, grunting as he held Sherlock. He couldn't believe it - Molly was actually a program. It was so wrong. No amount of computer engineering could possibly replicate the amount of feelings that she had created in all of them. She was their friend. And Mycroft had effectively terminated her. He felt sick.
Mycroft, finding silence the better path, strode past both of them and out the door before John could change his mind. He listened for the door at the bottom of the stairs to close as well before letting Sherlock go, and he immediately ran to his laptop.
"Sherlock. . . "
"Shut up." he hissed, glaring at John as he looked booted up the computer. The screen came up, same as always, but she never did. Her program was gone. The only thing he could find left of her was that picture she had placed there, of the cat. . . Toby.
"Sherlock - "
"Get out."
"Sherlock - "
"I said Get. Out." He raised his eyes to John's once more, with a glare that could have killed.
John, more than a bit put down by the withering look, nodded, and left.
Sherlock pulled out his cell phone, and texted Lestrade.
No more cases. I won't accept any. I don't want the results from this one either. - SH
He blocked the number without waiting for a response, and followed suit with John's. he didn't want any of them.
He turned off his phone to stop any other calls, and simply stared at the cat in the bottom left hand corner of his laptop.
He had been right. Feelings, sentiment, love, only caused the downfall of those weak enough to succumb. He would never make that mistake again.
Chapter 10 Everyone! Okay, I know I said last chapter something along the lines of "DON'T KILL ME *cowers*" but now, seriously, please let me live. Honestly, reading through the reviews, I was chuckling like a mad woman. So many of your were saying how sad it made you, and how you wanted happy. . . . yeah, I think I did a good job with the happy, how about you guys? ;3
Thanks so much to MorbidByDefault, ilovesunshine93, SammyKatz, The Consulting Storyteller, ChaosIsBlue, katierube, Rocking the Redhead, AvoidedIsland, Bella Cuore, A. Croft, IceQueenForLife, missdarlydixon, apedarling, gingerstarlight, wholocked12, virginie59, wittyying, I Believe In Molly Hooper, Moonmist18, LvPayne, GoldenVine, cate, piper, lais89, And the wonderful guests for your lovely reviews!
Until Next Time! :*