After that short conversation with Sherlock at John's flat, Molly did not hear again from him for two weeks. She knew from Mrs. Hudson that for a week he had closeted himself in his flat and allowed nobody to see him but Billy Wiggins, the young man she had seen that one time at the lab, the one Sherlock had told her was helping him on Christmas Day. She couldn't help worrying why Sherlock was once again wanting to solicit the services of that young man, but she no longer had the right to say anything about it. Sherlock did not seek out Victoria, and again, Molly wondered if it was because he was back on drugs or because he was no longer wishing to see his daughter. After all, he had told her not to say he was the father, but she didn't know if he was referring to their unborn baby or Victoria as well. Interestingly, Victoria had mentioned speaking to Sherlock on the phone when she was still staying with her grandparents.
During their brief conversation at John's though, Sherlock hadn't said anything aside from asking about John, so it was entirely possible he wanted to cut himself off from her and both of their children, so perhaps that last conversation with Victoria had been his way of saying goodbye. She didn't know what she feared most, Sherlock succumbing to addiction once again, or Sherlock no longer caring about them.
Circumstances being what they were, Molly decided it was time to give Mrs. Hudson a break from watching Victoria and was able to employ a child minder upon the recommendation of a work colleague. Mrs. Hudson was disappointed but understanding. She too was concerned about Sherlock and agreed that it was in Victoria's best interests to not be around Sherlock, especially if he was back on drugs, which she too suspected.
Victoria had asked several times why she couldn't see her daddy and stay uith Nanny Hudders, and Molly had been forced to lie, to say that he was occupied with an important case and that Nanny Hudders was busy helping him. She hated lying to her daughter, but didn't know what else she could do. She couldn't tell Victoria that her father didn't want to see her anymore. She still held onto the shred of hope that things between them would change and he would at least be willing to take responsibility for his children. At least the morning sickness had passed and she was feeling better physically. She couldn't help remembering though how Sherlock had been so solicitous on the one occasion he had been with her. Yes, he certainly had cared at that point. Was it possible for someone's affection to disappear so abruptly?
These thoughts kept Molly distracted when she wasn't working, swirling through her mind continuously, like a song set on repeat.
And then, out of the blue, Molly received a cryptic text from Sherlock. He furnished her with an address and a time. The weird thing was the date he wanted her to go there was two weeks in the future. He also requested the services of an ambulance. She supposed he was playing another stupid little game, or working on another case. One never knew with Sherlock. As usual though, she followed his instructions. It was rather odd however, because he also sent a second text, requesting that she bring his coat.
With no other communication from Sherlock, Molly made an appointment for her second ultrasound scan. She recalled how he had assured her that he would be there for this one, and she felt overwhelmingly disappointed that once again she was alone. Fortunately, the scan indicated that everything was progressing well with the baby. She had hoped to find out if it was a boy or a girl, but the obstinate little one refused to cooperate. Oh well, Molly reflected, it didn't matter really. She would love the new baby just as much if it turned out to be a boy or a girl.
By the time the day Sherlock had requested arrived, Molly had come to know that Sherlock was working on some case, going so far as to publicly state that a man known for his philanthropy, Culverton Smith, was a serial killer.
Molly pulled in a few favours with a friend, Chelsea, in IT, to get the services of an ambulance and two men to accompany her. Luckily for Sherlock, it was a quiet day at the hospital and an ambulance was available to be dispatched to the address she supplied, with her inside it. She arrived at the address Sherlock had given her, along with his coat and was most surprised to find John there. More distressing though was that Sherlock was obviously as high as a kite. This was a blow that she had expected, but it still hurt. At least she now knew he had a valid reason for avoiding Victoria, and she was glad he had not subjected his daughter to that again. It had been hard enough for Victoria to see her father in that state on the day he had been preparing to leave for Europe.
When Molly joined Sherlock in the ambulance, she discovered his condition was much, much worse than she could have imagined. He was patiently seated on the gurney, waiting for her to examine him.
Once Molly closed the door, Sherlock moved forward and knocked on the window that separated the cab from the rear of the ambulance. As soon as the driver opened the window, Sherlock said, "Follow that limo."
The driver turned around to look at Molly questioningly.
"Just do it," she sighed, as Sherlock closed the window and resumed his position on the gurney. Feeling the stuffiness of the ambulance, Molly opened the top button of her blouse. She felt so constricted all of a sudden.
"You should undo a few more of those, maybe even all of them," Sherlock suggested with a heated glance towards her chest area, and she blushed, but didn't respond. She knew he was only flirting with her because he was high.
She turned her back on Sherlock to get the blood pressure cuff and next moment felt his arms slide about her from behind. His hands slid over her belly which was beginning to show her pregnancy, although she had still managed to hide it with baggy clothes. She wouldn't be able to hide it too much longer though. At least those early bouts with morning sickness meant she had not gained much weight as yet, which was a plus.
"You're beginning to show, Molly," he murmured, caressing her belly.
"Yeah," she responded dryly, "that tends to happen as a baby grows."
"Are you still suffering from morning sickness?" he asked, still circling her abdomen.
"No," she responded shortly. "We're not here to discuss my pregnancy anyway, Sherlock." Despite her terse words, she could feel her heartbeat accelerate at his touch, wishing she could just lean back into him. Oh, how she had missed him. Reluctantly though, she pulled away and turned to face him.
"I am sorry I haven't been there for you again," he said sincerely and she pressed her lips together as he continued. "I know I let you down."
she swallowed. "Yes, you did let me down, but I'm used to it." She spoke simply, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. This was not the time to discuss their issues. "Now lift up your sleeve and hold out your arm."
Sherlock unbuttoned his sleeve and slid it up, holding out his arm obediently. She placed the cuff on it, but not before she saw the telltale needle marks. He hadn't even tried to keep her from the truth this time. Oh yes, he had been using, and frequently too, by the looks of the slight bruising around multiple track marks. His blood pressure was sky high as well and her heart lurched.
When she used a stethoscope to listen to his heartbeat, it was incredibly fast too, dangerously so. "Your heartbeat is extremely elevated, Sherlock," she told him, unable to keep the concern out of her voice.
"It's always elevated when I'm around you, sweetheart," he told her silkily, attempting to pull her into him.
"Just stop it, Sherlock." Her voice was a little unsteady. Why was he doing this to her now? She supposed the drugs in his system were releasing his inhibitions. Despite herself, she still thrilled at him calling her sweetheart again. She tried not to think of the way he was making her feel, but instead concentrated on the matter at hand. "How long have you been doing this to yourself?"
Sherlock furrowed his brow. "I haven't been keeping track exactly. Maybe a month?"
Molly thinned her lips. "So basically ever since we last spoke," she commented heavily then asked, "Why are you abusing your body this way?"
He thought for a few moments, as if trying to get around a short-circuit in his mind palace, something that frightened the hell out of her. She'd never seen him so - slow. She was used to rapid-fire and confident responses. "It's for a very important case. I need to catch a serial killer - Culverton Smith, you know."
She sighed. "Yeah, I've seen it all over the internet." Her voice trembled slightly as she continued, "Well, you won't be catching anyone if you're dead. And my children will be growing up without a father, so thanks a lot for your consideration, or lack thereof."
Sherlock's hands clenched and unclenched convulsively. "I...I didn't mean for things to go this far, Molly. I thought I could control it, but It's getting worse - I'm getting worse. John hates me and I need to show him I'm still a good person, that I am still Sherlock Holmes, his friend. I'm so close to getting Smith, Molly. I can feel it." She could hear the desperation in Sherlock's voice for the first time and it frightened her even more. She knew he always went above and beyond when it came to his friends, and here he was, putting his life on the line again.
"You won't be feeling anything if you're dead." She looked at him - the way he couldn't stop his hands from shaking, his dilated pupils, and knew the way he was going, his body would be shutting down on him soon. "Please don't do this." She blinked back tears. "Your life is not your own. People care about you. I care about you. Victoria cares about you. She loves you. Please, Sherlock, get off this dangerous path."
His expression as he looked at her was suddenly tender. The last time he had looked at her that way had been before he left for Morocco. "I will, Molly. Soon, I promise." She was very surprised by what he said next. "Let me just talk to our baby for a minute."
Molly didn't understand what Sherlock was playing at, but she allowed him to push aside her lab coat and green cardigan. When he would have unbuttoned the bottom of her blouse, she pushed his hands away. "That's far enough."
Sherlock pouted, but leaned down and whispered to their unborn child, "Daddy's going to catch a killer, and then he's going to talk to your mummy and figure some things out." He rubbed Molly's abdomen and straightened up.
Molly listened to his words and desperately wished for it to be the truth. She had prayed for him every night before she went to sleep, that his heart would be unburdened and that he would come to understand that he needed her, that he couldn't do everything alone. A tiny piece of hope sparked within her.
Sherlock sat back down on the gurney then and she joined him. Hesitatingly, she reached out a hand for him and he took it. They didn't speak again, just sat quietly for the rest of the journey. It was only when they reached their destination, that he turned his head to whisper into her ear, "When this is over, I have a lot of thinking to do." She felt the brush of his lips against her temple. The shadow of a smile crossed her lips as she stood up to open the ambulance door to let Sherlock out, but then it faltered. He still needed to survive, and at the rate he was going, if the case didn't break soon, he wouldn't be around to do any thinking.
John hurried towards her, waiting for her report.
It was devastating to hear the cavalier way Sherlock responded when she told him in front of John that he would be dead in a matter of weeks if he kept going as he was. She knew instinctively that he was merely posturing, but that didn't make it easier to listen to.
"I'm worried about you, Molly. You seem very stressed," he said casually.
"I'm stressed - you're dying," she responded in no uncertain terms.
Sherlock's flippant response made her want to simultaneously slap him and hold him. "Yeah, well, I'm ahead then. Stress can ruin every day of your life. Dying can only ruin one." She was tempted to retort that his dying would ruin every day of her life, but of course she could not reveal that in front of John.
She watched in silence as Sherlock tried to enlist John's help, then as he was greeted by the man he claimed was a serial killer. She had to admit she was repulsed by the man and his ingratiating manner, but a serial killer?
Sherlock gave her one last smouldering look that left her weak at the knees before heading off into the studio where Smith was filming a commercial.
Molly returned to Bart's, and work. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Sherlock and their conversation, and she couldn't figure out what his game was this time. He seemed to enjoy torturing her with his cryptic comments and actions. Perhaps everything was a game to him, and he was dangling her on a string like a yo-yo, up - down - up - down.
No matter how hard Molly tried to make sense of things, the answers eluded her, so she supposed she would just have to let things play out and keep praying that Sherlock didn't kill himself before she could discover what he had meant by saying he needed to think about things.
She picked up Victoria after work from the child minder and returned home, following their nightly routine automatically and dealing with her toddler's wails of "I want Daddy!" She didn't know how much longer she could make excuses for him.
That evening she caught the news and saw that Sherlock was in hospital, being treated for injuries sustained during an altercation that involved Culverton Smith. She didn't know what had happened, but assumed it had something to do with the case. Nevertheless, her concern for him resulted in a restless night. It was fortunate the following day was Saturday and she was not scheduled to work.
In the morning, Molly turned on the telly as she fed Victoria her breakfast. She wasn't really paying attention until she heard the name Culverton Smith. Molly could hardly believe her ears. Sometime the previous night, Culverton Smith had been exposed as the serial killer Sherlock had accused him of being. Relief hit Molly in a wave that was so forceful she had to sit down and take a few deep breaths. Whatever had happened, it meant that Sherlock was done with this case, and she hoped he would be able to get clean again.
More good news followed later in the day, which pleased her immensely. Although Molly still did not know what had happened the previous night, the result of it was that Sherlock and John were friends once again. John sent a text, thanking her for being there the previous day and examining Sherlock, and to say that he knew she would be glad to know they were no longer on the outs. Molly knew instinctively that this would probably go a long way towards Sherlock pulling himself up by his boot-straps and getting clean again. To that end, as if to reinforce the fact, John sent another text shortly afterwards to say Sherlock was coming home from hospital, against doctor's orders, and would she mind watching Sherlock along with Mrs. Hudson and himself in shifts, so he could detox?
Naturally, Molly readily agreed. She knew she would do anything to help Sherlock get through this and return to being himself again. She also hoped it would provide the opportunity for them to talk once more, to at least rebuild their friendship if nothing more. John had forgiven Sherlock, perhaps Sherlock could finally forgive himself.
She contemplated bringing Victoria with her, but decided against it, worried that the toddler might be distressed if she saw her daddy's state. Undoubtedly he would have hand tremors and possible mood swings. She arranged for the same child minder to watch her daughter until ten o'clock that night, then headed to Baker Street. On the way, John sent her another text.
"Guess what I just discovered? It's Sherlock's birthday. Wonder how old he is?"
Molly stared at it in surprise. Sherlock had kept his birthday a closely guarded secret for years. She knew of course, having prepared his death certificate years earlier, even knew because of it that today was actually his fortieth birthday, and she wondered how the admission had come about, but decided it didn't matter. Perhaps a celebration with cake would cheer Sherlock up, help get his mind off things. So she sent a text to John with the name of a cake shop, telling him they needed to celebrate with cake, and to meet her there. She was tempted to tell John it was Sherlock's fortieth birthday, but decided it was not her place to disclose something so personal. If Sherlock did not like to celebrate his birthday, he probably had no desire for anyone to know his age either. She then instructed the taxi driver to go to the cake shop instead of Baker Street.
Molly arrived first and positioned herself to see the men when they arrived. When they did, Molly was quick to notice that Sherlock, who was wearing that dreadful deerstalker, was still unshaven and he had stitches above his left eyebrow. He also seemed to be moving somewhat stiffly. Apparently that fight had been rather intense. She was amazed that Culverton Smith, who seemed not at all the kind of man who would be able to beat Sherlock in a fight, could have done such damage. Perhaps Sherlock's reflexes had been slow due to his drug-addled state.
She made no comment though, not wishing to embarrass Sherlock in front of John, but merely motioned for the men to sit. She had already ordered three slices of chocolate cake, remembering it was Sherlock's favourite, and they were on the table. When he saw it, he smiled at her and her heart leapt.
What is it about an unshaven Sherlock that is so attractive? she wondered.
If John had been absent, Molly had the feeling she would have been tempted to kiss him. What would it feel like to kiss him when he wasn't clean shaven?
She was interrupted from her thoughts by John. "Molly? Did you hear me? I said that Mrs. Hudson will take over for you later tonight so Sherlock won't be alone. I know you have to get your daughter."
Molly blinked and darted a glance at Sherlock before responding. "Er, yes, That's right. I did arrange to pick her up from the child minder at ten."
John nodded. "Speaking of which, I need to get going as well so I can see my own daughter. Thanks for the cake, Molly." He then looked at Sherlock. "Don't forget, I'll be over at six in the morning to take over from Mrs. Hudson. I think it is best that for tonight at least you not remain alone. We'll all get through this together."
"Thank you, John. I do appreciate that."
John turned to Molly. "If Mrs. Hudson is okay with staying in Sherlock's flat for the next few days during the day, how would you feel about alternating evenings with me so that she can take a break.?"
Molly bit her lip and thought for a moment. She could probably leave work, pick up Victoria, eat dinner and then head over to Baker Street. "Yes," she said, "I think that would work out fine. Should I take Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday or Monday, Wednesday and Friday?" She looked pointedly at Sherlock. "Would it be okay with you if I brought Victoria with me? I could pick her up after work, go home to eat, then head to Baker Street afterwards."
"Of course you can bring your daughter," responded Sherlock magnanimously and Molly almost rolled her eyes at his affected casual tone. "And you'll bring Rosie too, John? I'm sure it would help my recovery, you know, offer me a distraction," he continued, looking at John.
"I did say you'd have to see Rosie soon, so I suppose It would save me a few quid if I bring her along," agreed John, who then addressed Molly once again. "Why don't you do tomorrow night as well? One less day of picking your daughter up from work."
Molly gave a short nod of acquiescence.
John stood and clasped Sherlock's shoulder briefly, then exited the cake shop. Molly felt very glad to see them on good terms again and she couldn't help making a comment about it.
"I'm so glad you and John have sorted things out, Sherlock," she said warmly to the man sitting across from her.
Sherlock reached a hand up to his stitched up eyebrow. "I wasn't sure it would happen there for awhile, but I'm relieved things came right in the end as well," was his cryptic comment. Then he smiled at her, and her stomach did a flip-flop."Well, shall we?"
"Shall we what?" Molly asked, forcing herself to listen to his voice instead of stare at the perfect curves of his cupid's bow lips. She was still rather unnerved by how attractive she found him in this unshaven state.
Sherlock rolled his eyes at her. "Return to Baker Street of course. Aren't you supposed to be on babysitting duty with me?"
Molly blushed slightly, hoping he wouldn't notice the way her chest was rising and falling a little more rapidly than it should be. She adopted a casual tone as she stood. "Oh yes, I guess so, but only on one condition."
He quirked an eyebrow. "You're giving me conditions now?"
Molly folded her arms. "Yes. You take off that ridiculous hat. Just because you're Sherlock Holmes the famous detective, when you're around me I don't need you to be that person. You're just you."
He smiled slightly at that, took off the hat and shoved it into his Belstaff. "Thank you for reminding me that you can see me, not just the detective as others do," he said and there was an intent expression on his face.
She gave him a rather shy return smile. "Anytime."
They walked outside and Sherlock, with his usual uncanny gift for flagging down passing taxi cabs, found one almost immediately and off they went.
Author's note: Aren't you glad I didn't drag out the events from this episode of the show? Can you see them making tentative steps towards one another again? I really changed this from the way it was originally written when Sherlock just felt guilt all the way pretty much till the I Love You scene and ignored Molly completely. But, as I went back over it and revised, then added more content, I really didn't want him to be that way. He's not stupid. In his right mind, past the grief, he can see that his actions are just hurting Molly and their children as well as himself. So, I changed the story quite a bit from the original. I hope you like it better this way. Or would you have preferred to see him tormented longer and tormenting Molly too? Only one obstacle left and it's going to have a little twist as to why things are still not progressing by the time of that dramatic scene.
Thoughts and responses appreciated as always.