So, I'm getting proper excited now about my weekend away. Only frustration is Ben apparently being there LAST weekend...dammit, my timing was off. Ah well, I'm taking my Sherlock DVDs so that will have to suffice. I'm slowly converting my friends over to the show...drip, drip, drip.
Enjoy the update and I'll post again on Monday so long as I'm not too knackered and/or hungover.
Chapter 21
Sherlock had just arrived back in Baker St. He had opened up the front door, when he realised that Mrs Hudson was out somewhere. He went upstairs to his flat, chucked his hold-all on the bed and hung up his coat before opening up the curtains which Mrs Hudson must have closed at some point. It seemed very quiet and empty. It didn't feel like coming home at all.
He made himself some tea and sat down to think through what he needed to do whilst he was back in London. He'd already sent a couple of requests off to Mycroft and he knew where he needed to be the next day but for now it was just a waiting game.
As happened so often nowadays his thoughts turned to Molly. He wasn't happy with how things had been left and knew it was up to him to resolve the situation. He'd let his defensiveness and pride get the better of him earlier and it had been stupid.
It was only the fact that he now had a strong lead, thanks to Nicole, that had made him leave Molly. He wanted to resolve this case once and for all before moving things forward with her.
He thought back to that morning and the shock of seeing those photos and knowing that Molly had seen him like that too. He would never have wanted her to see him in his moment of greatest weakness; high on drugs and sex and god knows what else. But he'd known exactly who to speak to about how they might have got out.
Tracking Nicole down had been child's play and she was more than happy to meet up with him, eager as she was to rekindle things physically between them. He'd done what he needed to do in order to get the information he'd required but he had to admit that as they left the establishment, his mind racing with the next steps he needed to make, he'd let his guard down and she'd kissed him.
He'd carefully contained the situation making it clear to her that he was in a monogamous relationship with Molly and that that was the way things were going to stay. It was just Sod's law that that had been the moment that Molly had seen. He'd been hurt initially that she hadn't just dismissed it, that she hadn't had more faith in him, but he had to be honest with himself. He'd never really given Molly any reason to trust him, to think him a faithful man and their relationship was too much in its infancy for him to expect her belief. He should have explained the situation to her straight away, told her how much he cared about her instead of letting his anger and pride get in the way.
He consoled himself with the knowledge that there would be time enough for that when he returned triumphant to Oxford.
MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH
The next day seemed to drag interminably to Molly. She ate and conversed with the staff who were all still a bit on edge after the fight between Martha and Alison, but when Mandy asked if she wanted to do anything she cried off citing a need to just spend the day alone. She went for a walk in the afternoon finding herself heading towards the river, remembering those moments alone with Sherlock on the punt. She could only hope and wish that they would get to have more time like that together.
When she finally made it back to the college there wasn't much time before the evening meal. She went to her room to freshen up and that's when she saw a second note from Sherlock pushed under her door just like the last. Molly picked it up feeling her heart lift, he must be back in Oxford early.
Molly,
I need your help to set a trap. Meet me in the chapel crypt at 6.00pm but don't tell anyone I'm back yet.
Sherlock
She glanced at her watch seeing it was almost time. If she'd thought it through more she might have realised it was dubious but as it was she just picked up her phone and ran down, eager to see him once more.
The chapel was a beautiful old building. It was no longer used for services, most of the college traditions of Sunday services and evensong having long since died out. Instead it was just used as a quiet place; somewhere the students could come and pray or meditate.
The crypt itself was underneath and was a crypt by name only, more of a glorified cellar, there were no bodies down there. Mandy had pointed it out on her tour of the college so Molly knew how to access it.
The door was down half a dozen stone steps and was old and heavy and wooden and the crypt itself looked very dark. Molly went down two or three steps trying to find the light switch on the wall and softly calling Sherlock's name. It was only when the door slammed shut behind her that she realised how very stupid she had been.
She turned back banging on the wood and shouting until her hands felt bruised and her throat was raw. Eventually she remembered her phone shoved in her pocket and she took it out, the light from the screen bright in the darkness.
'Please, please, please...' She muttered as she held the phone to the door and the ceiling trying to get a signal but there was nothing. Instead she ended up having to use the phone to light her way down into the cellar trying to find some other light source or another way out. She soon found the switch in the wall but when she flicked it nothing happened, it seemed someone had removed the light bulbs from their holdings.
She knew her phone wouldn't last forever so she tried to find either another exit or anything that would help her. The room was a plain rectangle with only one way in or out, no windows, nothing, just a couple of air shafts a couple of inches wide. The room seemed to be a storage place for junk and broken furniture. The only useful thing she found was an old blanket which, after a few moments concern regarding how dirty it was, she slung around her shoulders to try and keep herself warm.
It was surprising how cold it was down there. The summer heat had made no inroads into this cold dank prison. She made her way falteringly back to the stairs and sat on the top step trying to listen out to see if she could hear anyone that she could call out too. She'd turned her phone off in an attempt to conserve the battery but the darkness was hideous. She had never felt so alone in her life. She rocked herself back and forth singing to herself and trying to keep her spirits up but it was as though her positivity were draining out of her as fast as her body temperature.
She must have fallen asleep for a while because when she woke up she was even colder, her face against the stone step. She'd have given anything at that moment for some water or another blanket. She fished her phone out, the battery was at about fifty percent and the time was 11.30pm. The college would be all locked up by now and if they weren't already looking for her no one was going to find her now, at least not until morning.
She tried to remember the last time she'd had a drink. She'd forgotten to take any water out with her and had been just about to make a drink when she got Sherlock's note; no, she revised her comment the hoax note. She angled her phone and pinched the skin on the back of her hand noting how slowly it went back down. So not only was she bone chillingly cold she was dehydrating as well.
She felt a sudden dread at the thought of being trapped in here overnight. She hugged her arms round herself and willed herself not to cry but it didn't stop the tears sliding down her face. In the end she found herself typing a text to Sherlock even though she knew he wouldn't get it.
Sherlock, I'm trapped in the chapel crypt. I wish I knew you were out there looking for me. Molly x
Sherlock, I'm getting scared now. I don't want to be in here all night. It's cold and dark...I think I might be afraid of the dark after this. Molly x
I'm so sorry I didn't trust you. Molly x
She spaced them out; sending one an hour like a kind of comfort blanket. Each one came back as unsent but it made her feel better giving her something to focus on. She fell asleep again sometime after 3.00am.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
The following day was very productive as far as Sherlock was concerned. He had known exactly what he wanted to find and it had been exactly where he had thought it would be. He felt the overwhelming high that always came with solving a case and wished Molly was here with him to celebrate. By the time he got back to Baker St it was after 6.00pm and he figured he may as well travel back to Oxford the following morning than go now. For once he was actually feeling hungry, he rummaged around in his cupboards but it looked as though it would have to be a take away, either that or maybe he could persuade Mrs Hudson to make him some sandwiches.
He was just going to shout down when he heard a beep from his phone, he contemplated ignoring it but then thought it might be Molly and he wanted to hear from her.
He picked it up only to read a text which made his heart clench in his chest:
Sherlock. I'm sorry to bother you, Molly gave me your number last week in case I needed it. I haven't seen or heard from Molly in 24 hours and was hoping she had gone with you. I just wanted to check though in case I need to worry. Amanda
MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH
Molly had lost all sense of time. Her mouth was so dry it felt as though she had no saliva left to swallow with. All she could feel was the numbing cold. The doctor in her told her she wasn't cold enough for hyperthermia but that was little consolation.
She no longer had the energy to try and call for help or even move. She'd tumbled down the steps in the middle of the night, or was it during the day, and whilst she hadn't broken any bones she had banged her head sufficiently that she hadn't had the will thereafter to move.
Her phone had finally died in the early hours of the morning as Molly had been writing Sherlock another text so she didn't have any source of either light or time left. She was really starting to worry that she could die down here. That she would never be found. She knew she should try not to fall asleep. Wasn't falling asleep dangerous? What if she never woke up again? All she knew was that she was so tired, and what was the point of keeping your eyes open when you couldn't see anything anyway, they might as well be closed.
She just wished she could see Sherlock's face one more time. She'd tried to picture him but couldn't do it for some reason, his face seemed to slide and blur every time she tried to focus on it, she couldn't even remember the colour of his eyes, not properly. Slowly, slowly Molly slipped further into darkness.
I hesitate to do a dun, dun, duuuunnn but it's as close as you're going to get to a cliff-hanger so enjoy the suspense over the weekend. As ever, please review...or follow..or favourite, whatever. Thank you xx