#26 – Crescendo

Hello darlings! I've had a lot of trouble with this chapter and a bit of personal issues (depression/lost my aunt to cancer) got in the way of me wanting to try again but it's been a process so here it is, finally.

HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO THIS STORY ALSO! Today, last year I posted the first shot that unexpectedly became what you are reading today. So thanks to all of you who have been with me since last year. I love you, so much. Hope we get to more loveliness from now on.

OH! Before I forget, the SAMFAs (Sherlock and Molly Fan fiction Awards) are upon us. I had just heard about it last year and I hadn't really written anything so I didn't think or have time to take part in it but clearly I'm ready, I hope you guys take the chance to nominate some of your favorites, even if that's not me. For more information go on over to sherolly dot com and you can find all of the goodies there. It starts on May 13th, I believe! Unfortunately this story isn't eligible for the nomination (I posted it a few days before the deadline…) but a few others of mine are, so I hope you guys support anyone who you feel deserves the nom. Any stories that you love.

Read on!

Much love,

Day

"See you later." Sherlock told John as he left him at the aircraft that would be taking him over seas. He didn't do goodbyes with anyone, let alone someone who had been with him for some years now. He would see him again, he was sure of it.

Sherlock was walking over to the black car that was very empty but would be taking him a few towns over to meet a man with a gun. He wasn't a bad man in the slightest if anything he was probably one of the best men he had ever come of knowing in his nearly nineteen years of living.

He had gotten several texts from him over the past couple weeks as he finished up the last couple exams that he had to do. He probably would have preferred to be where he was off to now but he had an agreement with his parents that he would endure the boring aspects of school in order to go off and have his fun.

This was fun.

An hour and a half later he was stepping out of the car and walking down a damp alley and ducking under the yellow caution tape and greeting his own source of fun. There was two bodies lying on the ground, each covered in blood and drenched in the downpour that had trickled out in the past few hours. He focused on them for a brief couple of moments before he spoke to the man in charge here.

"Lestrade." He nodded to the graying man as he stood up and reached out his head for Sherlock to shake. "Thanks for coming, Sherlock." Lestrade smiled before gesturing for him to do what he did.

Oh, yes this would be excellent fun. Two murders. It was nice to have one to slave over but two for the price of one. That was beautiful!

…

Two and a half hours earlier…

Darkness was the first thing that greeted her. It was a silent abyss of nothingness. A small pulse began beating in small increments until light began to flood into her sight. She was standing in a field, watching as two kids ran around playing tag. Molly was sitting on the ground over a little blanket and a little snack pack of vanilla pudding in her lap.

"You can go play if you want, sweetie. You don't have to stay here with me. I can see you and if I can't I'll find you. Go on." Molly looked next to her where the smiling face of her mother sat crossed legged and happy. She didn't look tired today, she looked pretty. Though her mom had always been pretty.

Molly shook her head. It was a bit smaller as were all ten of her fingers and toes. Her little body turned slightly as she looked over at her mom and scooted over to her, leaning her head at her mother's side. Her mom's smile lit up her face as she placed her arm around little Molly's body. "I want to sit with mama." She told her in her quiet voice.

"Okay. You know you'll have to interact with people someday, right?"

"Not now." Molly replied, smartly. She tugged on the soft fabric on her mom's jumper. The older woman just laughed at how adorable her daughter was as she bent down to press a kiss against her forehead. She began telling her a little story that suddenly came to the surface of her mind. About a dark haired man with the saddest eyes but with the mind of the most brilliant.

Molly didn't think twice about the last part of this image for soon she blinked as she was shifting in waves of water and was sitting on the shore of a beach. It was freezing, she was much taller and dripping down from her hair to her toes. No shoes on her feet, just a white sundress and hair in a bun.

She reached her nimble fingers up to take it out of the constraints the hair tie that she wrapped and twisted around it to hold it in place. Her face was probably smeared with the mascara that she had applied to it hours ago but it hadn't mattered much anymore. She was alone, tired, and feeling utterly dreadful about life.

It had to do with a boy of course. The first boy she had ever had a chance with. It was just a pity date. She hadn't needn't to know about that fact but she had found as quickly as it took for her to go to the bathroom and come back only to find the handsome, two years older than her male with his tongue down the throat of a woman three years her senior.

Molly hadn't even turned around when he spotted her. He looked sorry for a moment before the woman had caught his attention again. It was just like a man or a boy in this case to just cast a girl aside when someone who knew a thing about dominance threw caution to anyone else's feelings and went for the goal.

That had been the night her mom came looking for her when she hadn't come home hours after she was supposed to be. It was the summer before she was supposed to enter the academy on scholarship much to her parent's delight. Days after stuffing her face with ice cream as her mother told her that he wasn't good enough for her and that she'd find someone who she could keep up with one day. Someone who would think she counted in more ways than a nice pair of knockers (whatever that meant), she found out about her mother's illness. She did more crying then, her heart breaking more but not about a boy. She couldn't see life without her mom. Especially when it came to dealing with more women who thought she was just in the way.

There was a beeping in her ear. Something annoying, something there. She swatted at it, much like the flies she encountered on days in the country with her dad when he went to the farms to look at the meat supplies. Or more specifically the cattle that would later be slaughtered. This triggered the reminder that all things had to die and decompose in order for others to live and continue on and strive to whatever the universe sees. This might have been her catalyst for her life choices. Knowing that you were interacting with beings that could be gone the next day changed her in ways that made it hard for her to continue to go on trips like this.

Instead, she focused on the idea of going back into school focus on her central courses that will lead her into the field that she wanted. That had been her catalyst into really deciding that this is what she wanted. It was fascinating.

A heartbeat. That's what the beating was. She was still here, she realized as she breathed in. Her eyes remained closed for a while. Her body adjusting to the idea that she was somewhere safe. She presumed it had to be as she felt the soft fabric of the sheet that was cocooning her away from the coldness of the place. A hospital by the smell of it.

She lay there for a while not thinking about anything particularly. Her eyes opened. Her eyes trailing down to her hand which had the IV in it and around to the things that she could see. It didn't hurt to move. She moved, and moved until she was out of the room, unattached from those machines. There was a loud noise but she ignored it searching for something familiar.

Something comforting in essence if possible.

She found the piano. The piano that she remembered from the last time she was here with him. Sherlock Holmes. He had been hurt, last time. She stayed by his side like any good friend would. Now she was here sitting back at the piano with her fingers arched over the long ivory keys. A familiar tune beginning to flow out into the quiet of the room. She was safe here.

x

Sherlock had taken a small moment to still his beating heart as he got to the floor that he needed to be on. It had been good exercise seeing as he found it much easier than waiting for an elevator as John had been doing. Time was of the essence. It seemed to always be that wait as of late.

He walked along the hallway, peering briefly through windows of doors just in case someone had moved it. That would be a bit unsettling for both parties involved. He hid his smile when he came to the room.

It was the same as it had been a few years ago when they were in this same place. Albeit under very less strenuous circumstances. Sherlock was careful as he stepped into the room. He shut his eyes and listened to the wonderful melody that was coming from the grand piano in the center of the room. It had been moved slightly but it still looked the same.

He was quiet as to not disturb her from her happy place. She didn't ever play much anymore but when she did she seemed to glow a bit more as her hands flitted over the ivory keys. He took a seat next to her and tried not to speak too quickly at what he discovered there.

This was Molly yes but it was not the exact image he hoped he would find upon discovering her again. She was awake and while that was good, he didn't want to alarm her to the disturbing part of all of this. All he saw was red. It was stained everywhere.

He gulped as she took his hand and asked him in her quiet voice to play along with her. He soon realized it was the piece she played the last time. It wasn't by anyone else. She had composed it when she was much younger and still had both parents. Now, she had neither but still seemed to love the melody. He found it hauntingly beautiful. Not just the composition but the one who was playing it alongside himself.

He settled into an ambiance that could only be chalked up to be around Molly Hooper. Her soft glances and even gentle touch was something he had missed. He had missed this most of all. He missed sitting beside her – not necessarily near an instrument but all the same he missed having her close to him. He could reach out and touch her beyond the hand that was nestle under his. In fact he wished to do so but there was something that stopped him. There were so many things wrong with this picture.

When the song ended that was when Sherlock decided that it was time that he spoke. It seemed Molly had the same idea. She looked up to him and gave him a smile. It was quite small but he counted it as one of the ones that she gave him that was kind. She had given him a few sad ones, one of the last ones he shared with her was one as such.

They interrupted each other before Molly apologized. "You go ahead." Which to Sherlock only shook his head and gesture that she go ahead. That was the difference now. Whereas before Sherlock would just do without much thought, he was treading carefully because it had become quite clear that what he did was not what he should do. Nor was it the time for that. Everything had to be addressed with a touch of care.

"We're back here, again. Funny isn't it? I remember it being reversed last time." Molly commented as she turned around only to settle her gaze back on Sherlock.

A bit of tenderness settled in Sherlock's gaze as he looked at her. She was about the same before. It was almost as if nothing had change but he knew that it had. She appeared to not know. "Molly…" He started knowing that this couldn't last long. Not now, there were more pressing matters. The dried blood on the keys of the piano told him that and so did the red seeping from the bandage that wound around her head. It was not right.

Sherlock noticed how quickly her demeanor changed at the sound of his voice. It made him cautious as he proceeded to continue. "Look at your hands." He told her as he watched her face fall from happiness it had to a state of confusion and bafflement down to fear and worry. It amazed him how much she could hold in a single gaze. So much emotion. It was one of the things that troubled him about her. She could show how much she cared in one gaze but also was capable of hiding what she can see in someone when they thought she wasn't really looking. She observed at a very subtle level.

He could clearly remember the first time in the woods when he pointed it out to her. She pretended not to see how distressing it was for him to be around someone who could pick him apart if they truly chose to. She wasn't malicious then nor was she now. She looked more like that girl who he meet during his senior year, her sophomore. Fragile, unsure of what came next.

He wouldn't push her like he had subtly done the first time. He was her guide this time, he would make sure things went as they should. He couldn't predict everything (no one could) but he knew that it wouldn't be horrible if things didn't turn out the way he hoped they would. He was learning to adapt to these new circumstances, however he too had a plan for the future he saw for himself. Molly Hooper was certainly a part of it.

"What's wrong me, Sherlock?" Her eyes were welled up with tears, her voice wavering and minuscule as she reached up to her head only to draw back more blood on her hands.

He reacted in a way that made him want to hit himself in the head. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong with you, Molly Hooper. This can be fixed and it will. We just need to get you upstairs and they'll have a look. You've been unconscious from some time. Don't you remember?"

She seemed to slowly come to a realization as she sat there next to him. Her fingers wrapped around his. He breathed in a deep breath when he saw the way she seemed to shrink up. Thoughts and memories filling her head as she thought on his question.

"You found me in Germany after I left you. I was in pain but you wouldn't leave me alone. You stayed with me but then I blank after that."

"You fell off the bed and that resulted in a coma from the amount of swelling and fluid around your brain. It had gotten too much. I got Mycroft to fly us here because this is the only place that I feel will give you the help you need. To fix this. They were trying to see if you were going to wake up before doing the first procedure. They did it within a few days seeing as you weren't in any danger of waking up. Things looked as good as they could when you are dealing with a comatose patient. So, we've been waiting for you to open your eyes. You finally did today and you found your way here."

"You've been here the whole time?" She questioned.

"Yes. I told you I wouldn't leave you and I haven't. I won't until you decide whether or not I am worth it. I believe that was one of the reasons why you left me besides what we discussed in Germany. That doesn't matter anymore. We are going upstairs and they are going to take a look at you and we'll take it from there. One step at a time, right?" Sherlock smiled uneasily.

Molly was staring at him with a blank look upon her face. Her eyes flitting around his face looking for something. "You promise?"

Sherlock didn't hesitate as he lifted her hand that was settled between them and pressed a fierce kiss to it. He wasn't letting go. Not now, that wasn't possible. "Yes."

Neither of them said much of anything as Sherlock stood hand in hand with Molly and slowly begun to guide her out of the door and down the dimly lit hallway to the elevator where John was waiting with a wheelchair. Molly just about fell at the sight of her best friend smiling away as he ushered her into her seat.

"John, how long have you been here?" She asked him as they entered the elevator.

"A couple hours. Not too long. How are you feeling?"

"I'm covered in my own blood and my head feels like it weighs a ton. How about you?" She asked him, closing her eyes only to open them when Sherlock squeezed her hand as they rose up a few floors. She could see him trying not shake his head at her closing her eyes.

She realized in that moment that Sherlock Holmes was afraid of something. Maybe he had always had fears but it never occurred to her that any of them involved her. This moment as she gazed into his eyes she realized that Sherlock wasn't going to leave. Not this time. He couldn't, he was afraid that next time it really would be a goodbye.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze to reassure him that she was still there. She hadn't left him, yet. The fact that he was still around her spoke volumes to what was left of their relationship.

It was as the lights begun to flicker and the elevator came to a rocky halt did it really register that all was not well. It was further off than that.

The sounds of curses coming from John Watson's mouth and the quick rush of movement as Sherlock Holmes reached over to the emergency call button on the side where there several buttons. It was at the bottom. He pressed it hurriedly as he looked back to the area where Molly was.

"Sherlock." Both of his companions called to see if he had gotten anything. The silence was baffling. He let out a frustrated huff as he tried to feel for the box that held the emergency contact phone. They were soon enveloped in darkness.

"This actually helps." Molly said aloud, causing a chuckle from both men who she was sharing these small confined space with. Molly drew in a deep breath at that thought. She hated tight spaces, even more so now. She heard John move so that he was beside her. His hand pressing up against her throat checking her pulse. She didn't have to hear him tell her that she was going to be fine for her to know that she was dealing with a bit of a problem her.

She was recently woken up woman who was covered in her own blood and with the throbbing centered on her cranium pulsing away as if she was a ticking time bomb. Perhaps she was. She focused on the two men who soon traded places.

Molly felt the much leaner but large hands of the man she remembered to be someone rather special to her, even when he was being a down right git. She felt his breath against her temple as he arched up a bit on his legs and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. He didn't say much. Just staying nearby, not trying to move away for the moment.

He wasn't a fan of touching, unless they were doing something a bit more intimate and personal. Molly almost laughed at the thought of John Watson being around to see something like that. Luckily, as far as he knew John knew nothing about that side of her relationship with his best friend. She fondly recalls the day she mentioned the fact that Sherlock had kissed her. His reaction to that had been startling, she didn't need to throw in the fact that they had had many tumbles through the sheets with one another and several times without anything covering.

Molly could feel her cheeks blush at that thought. Sherlock's curls brushed up against her face. She imagined his face leaning down to stare at her. She knew that he couldn't exactly see her. It would be much harder for him to see her or her reddened cheeks. However, that didn't mean that he hadn't recognized the change in her body. She faintly recalled a certain moment during one of their earlier altercations. Where he told her that he thought it was endearing to see her blush because of him.

Molly never understood why he said the things he said. They held a meaning but she never questioned him much about that. She question him more on what he didn't share. "Remembering the night we were without lights, hm?" His smooth baritone chortled her into giggles at the memory of such a night.

It was an interesting experience that she wouldn't ever forget. "How do you know that?"

"What are the two of you whispering about?" John said slightly out of breath. He had started to wedge the door open with his bare hands. Molly had soon forgotten the idea of any kind of romantic notice between herself and the dark gentleman who was hovering above her. The sounds of struggle between her best friend and the metal was something to concern herself over.

"Do you need some help?" Molly asked.

"No, no. Someone needs to stay with you, you need to be monitored." He told her as he continued to grunt and pry the metal apart. He was barely making a dent. He did need someone's help. He was more worried about Molly than about the fact that he could get them out of there quicker if he had the help of one Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock leaned down framing her face with his hands again, his eyes blinking trying to decipher whether or not she could see him. "You'll be alright?"

"You're just a feet away. I'll be fine. Just help him before he pulls a muscle. I need to get out of here, soon." She told him, her hand covering his wrist for a brief moment squeezing it with a light pressure before letting go. Sherlock's head dipped down as he moved one hand to his side, a hesitant peck to the corner of her mouth. That wasn't where he was aiming but he still got the desired effect. A shaky breath from Molly. "Okay." He told her, "Don't stop talking. Tell me anything."

That she did. She told him one of the many stories that her mother told her as a child. They were all fantasy related but it kept her awake long enough to wince at the bright light as her boys had done something right. A beacon of light beaming from the very top of the elevator. They needed to get up there. "John, I'll get you up there then you get help. I'll stay down with Molly. Tell them that we've found her but are stuck, okay?"

"Yeah." John muttered as he placed his boot in the hands of his best friend and then grabbed onto the platform that he could see, it was hard to see but he managed with legs dangling down to usher the weight up into this upper body, strength that only a soldier could have and pulled himself over this barricade. He continued up, running to the nurse's station to summon the doctor who had been looking over Molly and a few security guards. They all looked at him oddly before realizing that he was a friend of a patient and she was indeed in peril.

It wasn't long before Molly found herself hooked back up to the machines she had woken up attached to. Her eyes resting closed, not sleeping just heavy from the activities of the few hours she had endured awake. Sherlock sat beside her while John stood nearby listening to the doctor who told them how an MRI would need to be performed before they could go in and do anything. They needed a clear image as to what they were dealing with.

Yes, it was clear that Molly's wound had opened up from the inside but where. John argued that it would be best to tackle it all at once and not force Molly into any more pain but ultimately hushed at the insistence of his best friend who trusted both doctor's equally but only one had the neuro license and degree that would help them help Molly get back on her feet.

A day later Sherlock Holmes & John Watson were standing outside a room as nurses and sedative specialists circled around Molly prepping her for the brain surgery that she was about to have. They gave her a light sedative to get her drowsy but would give the huge dose later when she was in the operating room with her neurologist among other trusted doctors and nurses. There would be to surgeons present just as a precaution in case the other grew tired. The procedure would take time to do. They planned to get everything remedied in the one operation.

Things could go wrong, Sherlock knew that.

That was why he asked beforehand if he could have a moment alone with his Molly. He had used that exact term when asking John to ask if he could see her before she went in. John had given him the same look he gave him when he found out that he had snogged Molly twice before anyone told him about their budding relationship. It hadn't even been labeled anything back then. It never had been.

Sherlock knew that there had to be another change. Something more than a label that signified her his girlfriend, lover or anything silly like that. He needed her and she needed him. It was all rather simple.

He walked into the room alone, hands in his trousers' pockets as he walked over to her. She blinked a little, the medicine already beginning to take effect on her. Sherlock took her hand that she had begun to raise towards his face. She missed a few times, she sighed clearly getting annoyed with herself. It wasn't that hard for her to touch him. When feeling a little loopy it was.

He smiled at her. "Before you go under for a bit, I wanted to talk to you. I have a proposition for you, Molly." He told her. The seriousness of his tone seemed to shake her to alertness just slightly. The medicine was still there, slowly taking her to the world of unconsciousness and hopefully happy dreams where there were no one out to get either of them.

She hummed, waiting for him to continue.

"I want us to move in together."

"To Baker Street?" She questioned almost as quickly as it had taken for him to utter that last sentence, if not a bit more slurred.

Sherlock chuckled, shaking his head. "No, you've only been there a few times and never to sleep. I was thinking we could find a place that accommodated us both."

"You love 221 B." She told him, shaking her head. He had to try not to laugh at the way it looked to him. It was as if she wasn't even trying.

"Yes, and I happen to…" He took in a shaky breath as he continued on as if he hadn't have hesitated at all. "I happen to love you too, Molly." Molly's eyes widened in surprise at his casual admission. Her mouth opened slightly as to begin talking but just as she started to Sherlock was leaning down. His words breaths of warm air around her mouth, "We can discuss it when all of this if figured out and no, you aren't asleep yet. I did indeed say it." He chuckled before pressing his lips firmly against hers. It didn't last long but it was better than anything that he could have slipped into a file or folder in his mind palace. The feel of Molly's lips pressed against his in chaste kiss was enough to keep him sane for days without her company.

"I'll see you soon." He told her as the doctors filed in with their scrubs and masks on, promises leaving their mouths that they would take great care of Miss Hooper. There was this look in their eyes something that he had seen before in his own mother's eyes. They knew. He cared a great deal for Molly Hooper and that he wouldn't let her go. He himself knew this to be the truth.

He met John back in the waiting room. A mug in his hand, no doubt filled to the brim with tea. "Now we wait." He told him, quietly. That they did. Each with a good thought of Molly, the Molly they knew and loved for completely different reasons would resurface and no longer be in pain. She would wear a smile and joke about how her boys had to learn to get along better and that she did love them.

That was the thing about Sherlock's most recent revelation. Molly had told him – let it slip once that she loved him. That was why it mattered that he chose to say it back this time. He hid a smile as he walked over to the window staring out of it once again, this time with hope for whatever came next would be a good thing.

Do you have as many feelings as I do right now? Because honestly I have a lot of them. The anniversary of the first year of this fic plus Sherlock admits to the truth. That he not only cares for our dear Molly but loves her! All right after he tracks her down, promises to fix her, and asks her to move in somewhere with him. What an anniversary indeed! Can you believe it's been a year though you guys? I posted this the day before my birthday. Tomorrow, the 9th being my 21st birthday. I'm quite thrilled about all of these things and I can't wait to hear what you think about this one. Anyone want to guess what will happen next or WHO we will be meeting next?

OH! Do tell me what has been your favorite moment of ASIC so far? I honestly can't give just one. Every single moment has been special to me as the writer in some way and form. I want to know yours though!

P.S. There is a kind of special message for you (words of thanks and a bit of nostalgia) over on my tumblr. Go to the sherlolly tag and you should be able to find it easily under the username: sincerelydayyy or you could go to my blog. Either way, I hope you understand how wonderful this experience is and how much I adore all of you.

See you soon!

much love,

day