This is for the tumblr Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2016
Day 2 theme - TAB spoilers/Canon/Sherlock Special/the Abominable Bride
"Shadows I Live With"
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"Hello, I'm Mrs. Hudson. Mr. Holmes' landlady," The attractive older woman with kind eyes said, as she greeted Molly and Holmes at the foyer of two hundred twenty-one B Baker street. Molly stood straighter as she took off her bowler hat and prepared to respond in her lower, harsher octave. She detested every moment that she had to pretend to be a man. She dreamed of the day when women would never have to resort to such horrible deception to live a fulfilled life.
"Mrs. Hudson, this is Doctor Hooper, Scotland Yard's Pathologist. He will be sequestered with us, for extra protection, while I solve his case."
Molly knew the moment Holmes "told" her that she would be staying with him for the duration of the investigation, that she was in for a lot of trouble. How was she going to live side by side with the infamous detective and not give up her secret?
Someone was threatening her or actually, him. Someone was threatening the persona Molly meticulously cultivated and presented to the world so that she could participate and contribute within the field that she loved so much, medicine.
The weight of carrying her secret, of impersonating a man so she could first go to medical school and then find a low key, yet important medical position, was starting to wear on him. On her, she corrected herself. She swore it was even hard for her to keep track these days.
For seven long years she put away her dreams of finding love and having a family for the thrill of helping Scotland Yard solve crimes. Someone needed to speak for the dead and that's what she did. She had enjoyed her work with the detectives until the day Sherlock Holmes began consulting. Then her job became a living nightmare.
Not because she couldn't handle his forward, abrasive nature, but because she had fallen in love with him. Her attraction was instantaneous and with that very human reaction came others. Her defenses were on constant alert whenever he was around. The fear that he would deduce who and what she truly was was a cloud of doom that hung over her, everyday. Her attraction for him fought with her self-preservation and that volatile internal battle spilled over into real life so that she ended up being just as rude and abrasive towards Holmes as he was to her. She hated being that person with him, but she just couldn't help it. If he was to ever say a kind word to her, she didn't think she could stop herself from walking across the room and kissing him.
"There have been threats made against the doctor and no one would think to look for him here." Sherlock explained as he walked up the stairs that led to his personal apartments. Molly looked between the landlady and up the stairs at the retreating back of Holmes and decided she best follow him, but stopped as Mrs. Hudson spoke.
"He'll take good care of you. He's the best at what he does. We dine and have tea at regular hours, well, what constitutes as regular hours for Sherlock Holmes. Mr. Watson isn't here for the week, vacation with his wife, so I'll set you up in his guest quarters for now. I do laundry on Tuesdays and if you need…"
"That's fine, Mrs. Hudson. I do my own laundry and pressing. Really, it's no problem. I don't want to be any more of a burden than I already am. Really. Thank you." Molly said, as she stressed to the helpful Mrs. Hudson that she could take care of herself. She would need to contain the secrets that lay below her normal and unusual layers of clothing as much as possible.
"Hooper! Are you coming?" Holmes yelled from the top of the stairs.
"Yes!" Molly glanced at Mrs. Hudson before she hurried up towards a new nightmare of constant agonizing proximity to the man she loved.
After Holmes explained the workings of his schedule and then proceeded to completely ignore Molly for the next two days, she came to the conclusion that the next day she would be going back to work. Holmes would just have to learn to accommodate her schedule if he insisted she stay under his protection.
Molly had been aware of his eccentricities from her verbal sparring and interactions with him in the morgue, but who knew the man never slept. He was in constant motion, both his brain and his body. If he wasn't pacing back and forth in the living room at all hours of the day or had his head in a book or played exquisite music on his violin he was out tracking down information or clues.
What drew Molly from another restless attempt at sleep was the complete silence of the apartment. It wasn't right and it made her nervous. Maybe Holmes finally feel asleep from exhaustion, but that didn't seem like something he would allow. Molly knew if she didn't check on him she would never get any rest. She wasn't dressed appropriately, but she would only take a quick look to reassure herself.
Her bedroom door creaked as she opened it to look out into the living room. It was empty except for the soft light that spread across the wooden floor from the oil lamp that was dimly lit. She walked out into the room and froze as Holmes' bedroom door was open and he lay fully clothed on the top of his bed. The midnight moonlight was partially blocked by the heavy material of his curtains making his room eerily shadowed.
Molly was so afraid that he had noticed her that she stood frozen in place. She couldn't breathe from her anxiety.
He was stirring and fidgeting while moaning lowly. The uneasy movements of his body gave Molly concern. She walked slowly towards him and his incoherent rambling became clearer. He seemed to be moaning about a waterfall and then someone called redbeard.
Molly could see he had broken into a light sweat. His face was flushed and his head moved side to side as his body fought what she knew must be a fever. The silly man had worked himself toward sickness.
She moved to go and change into her male persona so she could help him, but he moaned her name. What made her fatefully turn back around was the tone in which he said it. It was not a tone she ever thought she would hear from him. It was soft and tender and she stared at him in wonder.
"Hooper," he whispered as his eyes slowly blinked open. Oh no, Molly thought. She'd been caught. She needed to get out of there before he truly recognized her. He could have just assumed it was her in the doorway without really seeing her hair hanging loose and her dad's old robe.
"Water," he pleaded for as he faded in and out of consciousness.
She needed to change clothes, but he needed her help now.
"Please,"
Molly had never heard Holmes say please before and both her heart and resistance melted. She reached for a glass on his dresser table and poured water from the pitcher. She sat down on the side of the bed and brought the glass to his lips. She cupped the back of his neck and helped him lift his head to drink the cool liquid. He was hot to the touch and she set the glass on the floor then moved to get up and prepare him a cold compress.
He grabbed her wrist to stop her. As she looked down into his fever clouded eyes, that were as beautiful as they were when in full deduction mode, he looked right at her and whispered in his deep, satiny voice, "I always wondered if you kept your hair long."
What? How? Molly's entire being collapsed as her secret was exposed. Her life would be destroyed. How long had he known?
"Stay with me…" he mumbled as he pulled her stunned body towards his and wrapped his arm around her slender waist as he laid her down on the bed. He burrowed into her side as he shook from the chills that racked his body. "So-rr-y I-I-am so cold, Hooper."
Molly couldn't believe what was happening. She didn't know what to do. Holmes knew she was a woman and had said nothing. Why? And good lord she was in bed with him.
His body burned all along the side of hers as he hugged her close. She had never been this close to a man before. It was alien and it was...incredible. She tried not to move or bring any attention to herself. Once he was asleep she'd get up and then, what? What would she do now? What would Holmes do with her in the light of day?
As her fear and uncertainty overwhelmed her…she finally gave up. She was so very tired of carrying her secrets. It was too late to deny what she had been doing all these years. She was a woman and for the remainder of this one night she would remain one with the man she loved.
"It's okay. You're okay," Molly whispered as she placed her cool palm against his burning forehead and eased him to sleep.
Hours later, Molly woke slowly to the feel of fingers sifting through her hair. For a second she couldn't remember where she was and then it all came rushing back. She opened her eyes and in front of her, in the shadows of his bedroom, lay Sherlock Holmes quietly watching her as he wound the soft curls of her hair around his fingers.
"I made quite a mess of things didn't I, Hooper," he said as his lips tilted into something Molly had never seen on him before, a smile. A small, soft smile. A smile for her.
"Do you feel, better?" Molly asked as neither of them made a move to part.
"Yes, better," the words hung in the air as thousands of questions fought to come out of both of them.
"How did you know?"
"What is your given name?" They both spoke at the same time as the privacy of the night surrounded them within a cocoon where the realities of the real world were far, far away.
"My name is Molly,"
"Molly," he repeated like a sigh of pleasure. "I've known since our first meeting. Your secret was never mine to expose and it still is not," Sherlock said as he rubbed her silky hair between his fingers. Molly felt the sensuality of it and could only marvel at his obvious fascination with her hair and the incredible generosity of his spirit. He had kept her secret all this time. He had protected her and still was.
She could only stare at this beautiful man as a tear began to fall down her cheek. Then another, and then another.
"Shh, my dear Molly," Sherlock said, as he let go of her hair to cup the side of her face. His thumb gently wiped a tear from her skin. " You've had no one to share this burden with, have you?"
She slowly shook her head no. "No one,"
"You do now."
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A/N: For my wonderful readers who are interested in the mystery...Sherlock worked out that the villainous person who had been threatening Molly was an angry former morgue employee of the very demanding and extremely strict "male", Dr. Hooper