Sherlock softens immediately at the throwback of the same words that he himself had used years ago when he had needed her help to survive. "Wh-What do you need, Molly?"
"I need you to LEAVE. /Please/! I wish you could stay but you can't, I-I can't do this!" Molly keeps her face covered and her eyes closed.
"Molly…I can't just leave you like this. Please…just tell me what's wrong. M-Maybe I could help you."
"You can't help me, you can't!", Molly breaks down into sobs, a fiery burning in her throat and a strong urge within her to take over him like prey, to sink her fangs deep into his perfect neck, and to feel the most delectably warm and most delicious crimson liquid pour down her throat.
"I think I can...", he says in his gorgeous low baritone voice. "Just let me help you, Molly."
"You have no idea the danger you're in." Molly's voice goes lower than he has ever heard, and it causes an uneasy feeling inside him, but he persists.
Sherlock takes another step forward, as he does when approaching his little sister, Eurus. Slowly and cautiously, as to not cause an adverse reaction. He glances down at his feet then looks back up at Molly to find...she's not there. "Molly?", he shouts, confusedly. She couldn't possibly have gone anywhere without walking past him. What the hell happened?
"M-Molly?" Sherlock looks around and then turns, jumping a mile when he sees her directly behind him. His eyes widen and he stumbles backwards, gasping at the sight in front of him. There she stands, the whites of her eyes bloodshot, the veins under her lower eyelids blue and bulging, and an absolutely hungry and predatory stare in her golden-brown irises. He swallows the gigantic lump in his throat when his gaze drops to her mouth, an almost feral growl emitting from her throat, two long, white, extremely sharp fangs, peeking over her lower lip. "Oh God...wh-"
"You need to leave /now/", Molly growls hungrily. "I don't want to hurt you, Sherlock...but right now, you smell and sound way too delicious, and I have yet to learn much control."
"That's not true. You have the most control I've ever seen in one person. You always have. I know you won't hurt me. I still want to help, but I don't want to hurt you. Look I-...I'll move further away, see? I'll go sit in the sitting room. You can stay in here...just…just…talk to me. Tell me what happened. You're a...", he trails off as he sits far away from her in her sitting room. Enough for the burning to dissipate slightly, but not even half. However, Molly takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself and eventually her fangs retract, and her eyes return to normal. The Molly that Sherlock knows and loves returns, her eyes watering in guilt and she chews her lip the way she does when she is nervous or worried.
"I-I was attacked...", Molly chokes out, a small sob escaping her. "…on Halloween. I woke up in an alley close to Bart's. I was walking home because my car wouldn't start. When I woke up, I couldn't really remember what happened, but m-my shirt was all bloody..." A few tears fall down her face and Sherlock has to physically hold himself back from rushing over to her and wiping them off her fair cheeks. "I got home and washed up and I didn't really think much of it. I thought the attacker got scared away because my purse wasn't touched. I thought I had just cut my head, y'know, because head wounds bleed the worst even when small..."
Sherlock nods and listens intently. "I'm so sorry, Molly...I wish you would have texted. I could've walked you home."
"Me too. Uhm…anyway...Toby kept hissing and scratching at me and when I saw myself in my mirror I-I saw the bite mark on my neck. I tried to ignore it but by the next morning my reflection...well, it-…", Molly looks down sadly. "It wavers a bit. It's all wonky. I guess it's because I'm dead, but I'm not…dead, yet. Like, my heart isn't beating anymore. It never will again." Tears begin to stream down Molly's face quickly, and she sits on a seat at her kitchen island. She sniffles and tries to regain her voice as Sherlock's face falls as well, and she could swear his eyes were watery too.
"I looked online and, from what I read I have, now, about twenty-four days to drink from a human, or I die forever as the Molly that you and everyone else knew. I don't know what to do", she cries. "I don't want to hurt people, and what about my career? I can't be a...a vampire and work in a morgue. I deal with blood all day. What kind of life would I have, despite that? I'm technically dead. I won't grow older, I can't have children anymore, at some point everyone here will become suspicious and I'll have to move every couple decades. I don't think I want that. I just want to be myself again, and that's not a choice, unless I die at the end of the month with the dignity of my human life."
Sherlock sniffs and rubs his face, completely in shock and grief-stricken by her words that her heart is no longer beating and never will again. He internally mourns the loss of his sweet little Molly, with her flushed cheeks and her giddy, yet singsong laugh. Sherlock looks up at her and takes in the way she is now. On the outside she looks pretty much the same aside from the fact she's a tad paler, which isn't too noticeable to the naked eye. He cheeks are no longer flushed with that beautiful shade of pink, but her cocoa brown eyes carry the same warmth, love, and compassion that they always have, albeit for the terror and worry within them as well. Molly looks nearly the same in this relaxed state, the only difference is when she is hungry, or, Sherlock assumes is too close to (including anyone human), or sees blood of any kind.
He can't possibly think of a world with no Molly Hooper, regardless of her state. It may be selfish of him, but if he can't have her as a human, he needs her here as what she is now. She's still here, still carries love in her silent heart, still cares. Whether she believes it or not, the Molly that she believes died when her heart stopped, is in fact still within her, regardless of her now being immortal.
Leaning back against her sofa and sighing, he thinks about how there is one absolutely incredible thing about her predicament. If he chooses to be with her now, for as long as he humanly can, all the dangerous people from all of his cases, they couldn't hurt her as revenge on him even if they wanted to. She can never be physically hurt ever again. Sherlock swallows and looks into her eyes from across the room. He lowers his voice and it softens, genuine fear within it. "Molly, I don't want you to die...I- I don't think I could ever bear to lose you."
Molly looks down at her hands and plays with her daylight ring. She holds it up for him to see. "See this? It's a daylight ring. This type of blue lapis stone...it carries mystical properties, protection for vampires against rays of the sun. It's a very old legend that most people think is a myth because most people don't believe in vampires. If I went outside without it on, I'd be covered in the most painful blisters, and if I were a full vampire, I would burst into flames and turn to ash. I bought it to protect myself from the sun, but then I wondered if I should take it off and just...protect London from myself, at least during the day. I can't do this. I can't be...this. This isn't me. I can't...I can't hurt people, to feed myself. I won't."
"Molly...I know that if you just practice, you'll be able to control it, you'll be able to blend in. During the day, near humans, maybe even go to work without even a thought of it until you're hungry. You have access to one of the largest blood banks in London at Bart's. They get blood donation deliveries daily. You should be able to sneak a few each day to...to keep yourself sustained. I don't think that would be selfish at all, and it certainly gives you the opportunity to stay alive without the possibility of hurting anyone."
"Sherlock, you don't understand. Firstly, I don't think I could steal, especially when I know that blood goes to save lives. Lives that deserve to be saved. Secondly, even if the blood bags sustained me...its the thump of hearts…the sound of pumping and rushing blood through a body...and the fresh scent of it...God it drives me mad. I had told you to leave and you stepped closer. I could have attacked you! I could have absolutely feasted on you, or drained you. You have absolutely not clue how ravishing your heartbeat sounds, and how delectable the scent of your blood is. So much so I can nearly taste it in my throat even now. My throat burns with desire and hunger, the need to bite you so badly...I'm afraid if you come any closer to me, or stay here any longer, I may. So you do need to leave, and soon."
Sherlock looks at her, unafraid. "I'm not afraid of you, Molly Hooper. Plus, if you did, I'd never have to live in a world without you in it. I never want to."
"Sherlock", her voice cracks a bit.
"Well I don't, so you need to feed at some point this month. I will come back, and I won't stop coming back until you let me help you live in whatever way you can to surpass this month and decades to come. I won't tell anyone, you have my word."
"Sherlock...I know you're worried, and I know we have been friends, regardless of our rocky history, for a very long time. I know that you'll be sad for a little while...but I won't feed, and you can't make me. I'm choosing to die with my dignity and whatever is left of my soul. I don't want this." Tears flow down her face as a couple drop down his. "I'm sorry...but I cannot live like this. Please allow me to die peacefully, and with my goodness. Please."
His lower lip trembles a bit and he sniffs, looking into her soft, tear filled eyes. For a moment he is going to succumb to the terrible reality that within three weeks Molly Hooper would be gone forever, because she wanted that, and she deserves to choose her fate. But then he realizes that he is a selfish man, and he won't lose another friend, not one more.
"No...I'm sorry but no. I won't let you. I will not lose you; I refuse. That may make me selfish but that is what I am, I am a disgustingly selfish man. Molly Hooper you will NOT die on me. That's unacceptable. That won't do because it was true, and it's always been true. I love you. I said it before and I'll say it again, and I will prove to you that human or immortal, you are worth saving, because you are still my Molly, our Molly. You are still kind, and generous, and loving, and...and...I need you in my life regardless of whether you are immortal or not. I just need you. I've always needed you and I can't possibly see a time in the near future where I won't need you. So too damn bad. I will make you want to live. Mark my words." Sherlock gets up and leaves, hailing a cab and hopping into it as Molly watches after him through her kitchen window in shock, tears slowly making a trail down her face as she solemnly closes her eyes.