Bloodcurdling screams ring out in Molly's home, her body squirming and shaking in pain on her sweat soaked mattress. Her eyes flicker between their normal chestnut brown and a golden yellow. Her hair grows longer from her head, and her fingernails and canines painfully pull longer and sharper downward.
Sherlock paces the room quickly, tears rushing down his face at the sight of her turning. He guiltily keeps his eyes fixed upon the bloody and bruised bite in the side of her neck, where his venom entered her bloodstream through his saliva.
Days ago he had agreed to turn her, but his human heart and mind would not allow him to hurt Molly, despite their agreement. After that, they had agreed that when he felt his heat dwindling for the month, that he would successfully turn her, no hesitation. Knowing that she was absolutely positive about her transformation, he had reluctantly agreed, despite still being bothered that she would have to go through all of this pain just to be with him. But then, he supposes, even when they were both human it was a bit like that, at least emotionally, all because of him.
When her transformation is complete, they will be a bonded pair for life. No more excuses. No pushing her away, becoming distance, running. That was all in the past. Even he wanted to, he would not be able to because his longing to be nearby her would be too strong and too impactful on his wolf side. He would love her and protect her like never before, and it would be in his nature as well as hers.
Shaking his head of all the rushing thoughts within his mind his ears take notice again of her screams. Sherlock climbs onto the bed and holds her close in his arms, stroking her hair back. Her skin is burning like lava and sweat drips off of her face. He murmurs softly to her through her yells, rocking her gently, just so that she knows he's there.
Sherlock sits there and holds her as long as it takes for her to turn. Turns out that's approximately three hours and eight minutes. Molly's body goes limp as she drifts into a deep sleep, breathing heavily and trembling slightly. He carries her to the sofa and set her down before returning to the bedroom and changing her sheets. Throwing them into the washer, he goes to her kitchen and dampens a washcloth with cold water. Then returning to Molly, he squats down in front of her and strokes her face with the cloth to cool her body temperature and wick away any remaining sweat on her face.
"I love you, Molly Hooper", he whispers, stroking her cheek lightly. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into…" He sighs defeatedly and then pats the clean side of the cloth over the horrific looking bite, soaking up the excess blood that trickled out of the canine bores in her skin. When he had bitten her it was a climax of utter ecstasy and possessiveness. The latter of course, being his werewolf side in heat, and not just wanting, but /needing/ to claim her as his, forever. Of course William Sherlock Scott Holmes, the man, wanted that too, but not in the brash and uncontrolled way that it happened. Although if he had most of his faculties, he most likely would have failed at actually biting her like before, in fear of causing her that excruciating pain.
Sherlock's nose tingles with the new scent of her. So divinely sweet like the faintest whiff of perfume, with the slightest hint of musk and of course, her classic lemon undertone. "Formaldehyde", he mumbles, a small smile creeping onto his lips. His mouth waters a bit and he looks at her now sleeping serenely on her pale blush sofa. He feels much stronger, more powerful, and more needed. As for Molly directly, he's more possessive and protective of her than he ever has been before. As if he could just about kill any man that ever steps within feet of her again. Pushing the already forming, and impalpable jealousy away for the moment, he scoops her into his arms again and carries her back to her bedroom, tucking her into her newly freshened bed.
Molly's eyes flutter open slowly and she looks around, her eyes bleary. Rubbing them and blinking again a few times, her vision clears up to nearly pristine proportions and she gasps, never having seen this well in her entire life without her glasses or contacts. Casting her gaze to her nightstand, she sees the offending dark-rimmed item still sitting there. For a moment or two Molly sits there, dumfounded by her sudden vision redemption, as she can't think of anything reasonable that could have caused it. Sitting up slowly, she realizes it's nearly dusk; that's when she hears clanking around in her kitchen.
Slipping out of bed, she slowly makes her way down her hallway until she comes into the clearing between the sage-green toned sitting room, and her large kitchen. What she sees- really, really sees, is Sherlock Holmes. In her kitchen. Shirtless. Making her dinner!
Molly's jaw drops and she stares at him until he notices her, a large grin spreading across his face. Her heart flutters as it does nearly every time he smiles at her, but a thousand times more. Suddenly she wants nothing more than to bury her face in that glorious chest and just breathe in his warmth.
"Molly…", he lowers his voice to a soft tone. "How are you feeling? Are you okay? I know you're starved, so I made your favorite pasta dish. Or at least I think it's yours. Fettuccine Alfredo with chicken, right?"
"I-…um…yes, that's right but…I'm sorry, I'm confused."
His face falls and he goes over to her, cupping her face and examining her quickly, his eyes scanning her features. "Confused about…what exactly?"
Molly's face flushes as Sherlock comes close, a delectable scent coming to her nose, and not that of their dinner. It smells like sandalwood, fresh linens, and a hint of tobacco. There is also a strong scent underlying the rest that she can't seem to place, but it makes him seem very capable and very homey, in a broad sense. Molly hugs him tightly, burying her nose in the crook of his throat and breathing him in, moaning contentedly. Sherlock blushes and wraps his strong arm around her, smelling her hair and wishing he could protect her like this forever.
"I don't know…I feel like I lost the day. I mean w-we were…y'know…being intimate and then…then…"
Sherlock pulls back enough to look at her, concern forming on his face.
"Then…I-I don't remember. I woke up a minute ago and I could see. I mean really see, Sherlock. Without my glasses. Not only that but I can smell everything, like every single thing in this entire house all at once, including you. Especially you. You smell…mm…incredible."
He closes his eyes a bit and swallows hard, then takes her hands softly. "Molly…do you remember the conversation we had? A few days ago, then earlier today? You remember what I am, right?"
Molly thinks for a moment then her eyes widen. "Oh! You…you finally turned me? I-I'm…I'm half wolf too?"
Sherlock sighs in relief that she isn't upset, and especially that she doesn't remember the pain. Unfortunately, he knows that she will have to go through it again, and remember it the next time, once there is a full moon. "Yes…it was awful…you were screaming. So loud and so painfully…it killed me to know that I did that. I hated it", he tears up.
She pulls him close to her and kisses him lovingly. "Thank you. I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I am…but I don't remember a bit of it. Not at all…maybe I shut down when it got too painful, I don't know. But I'm glad that I don't."
Nodding, he strokes her back protectively. "Do you remember what else that means?"
Molly blushes and peers up at him, rubbing his chest soothingly. "That I'm yours…?", she whispers. "Forever."
"Yes…we are bonded now. I know you've only been awake for a little bit so you don't notice the whole change yet but…Molly I could hear your heartbeat, smooth and steady while you were in deep sleep. I could sense your feelings throughout your dreams, I could even tell how hungry you are."
"Wow...", she murmurs softly. "So…that utterly divine smell…that's…that's you then. My Alpha…", she blushes deeply.
Sherlock blushes deeply and cuddles her close, breathing her in. "Mhm…you smell delicious too. My Omega", he smiles softly. "My partner, my love, my bond mate, my Molly. Always. I love you. I wish I said it a lot sooner."
She tears up happily and kisses him again. "I love you too. Now we should eat some of your delicious dinner because I'm absolutely starving!"
He smiles and nods, happily making his way back to the pot of pasta and stirring in the sauce. "I didn't break the jar! Woo!", he howls a bit.
Molly laughs and walks over, watching closely before helping him plate their frankly, gigantic portions into their dishes.