Chapter 2
When the door's flat opened, Sherlock found her in a panic attack. She was crying desperately without being able to stop and her body was shaking with strong sobs. As soon as she saw him she put a hand to her chest "I…I…ple-ase, for-give me Sher-Sherlock" she murmured and turned to the window, struggling with the handles to open it.
"Molly! What the hell…?" he got rid of his coat and ran to her side taking her in his arms before she collapsed to the ground, "I…I can't bre-breathe" her arms wrapped around his waist for support. Sherlock held her close as he opened the window and the biting night air hit them full in the face.
He ran a hand along her back several times to soothe her as he said quietly in her ear to be quiet, lulling her like a baby as she had done so many times with him. "I'm here with you" he whispered in a very low voice.
"Breathe deeply. Do like me, inhale…exhale, come on Molly. Focus on me". After a few minutes, Molly began to feel better. Her heart and breath stabilized, tears and sobs subsided. Sherlock sat her down on a chair and served her a cup of hot tea "I'm so sorry, Sherlock…after all you've been through today…you just didn't need a stupid whimpering woman!" she mumbled after taking a few sips.
He observed her carefully "This was not the reaction I expected from you…I was more prepared to dodge some flying object and slap", Molly looked up from her cup to meet his eyes, unable to hold back a smile. Sherlock glanced at the laptop on the other side of the table and moved in that direction "I bet I find the cause of your panic attack here" he said lifting the screen.
He frowned at what was the last thing Molly had looked at, "I swear I'll kill him" Sherlock said through gritted teeth, "I told him to explain to you roughly what happened…not to show you!" angrily he slammed the screen to close it.
Molly stood up and put her hand on his arm, "Don't blame Mycroft. I chose to watch…I could not have done it and waited for your version of events", he smiled softly at her and took her hand holding it in his "Molly, I…".
She interrupted him "You don't have to say anything", "On the contrary. First of all I have to apologize" he insisted. Molly shook her head repeatedly placing her hands on his chest, "I'm the one who must apologize for not having sensed there was something wrong", she pressed her lips for a moment "I'm sorry I didn't trust you. Forgive me".
"You didn't trust me for good reasons, Molly. For the past few months, I have been a complete moron and I have behaved worse than ever with you. I'm so sorry and I want you to know I never meant to hurt you on purpose…" she had put a finger on his lips to stop the flood of words, "I understand. It's fine, Sherlock. In spite of everything we're still friends. That's what matters".
Molly did everything not to mention that phone call and what they had confessed to each other. She was now aware that he loved her, perhaps he had realized it too, but it was no time for him to think about the two of them. Sherlock wasn't ready to be romantically involved with her and maybe he never would be.
First he had to psychologically overcome what he had to endure and then he had to handle a lot of family stuff. So they apologized and forgiven each other. While Molly was healing his injured hands from destroying her wooden coffin, Sherlock told her what had happened in Musgrove, the Holmes' family residence, where Eurus had taken him and John.
Almost without realizing it, they found themselves sharing the flat's only bed. Each lay down on their side, not touching each other but face to face. As two good friends do, they talked and cried, at times, until the light dawn peeped out the curtains and both of them, exhausted, slipped into a dreamless sleep.
The following days and months were quite hard and intense for Sherlock and those around him, so much so that it seemed the infamous phone call and those three words had fallen into oblivion.
Then suddenly, in late June, an offer came for Molly to work for three months in the John Hopkins' Pathology Department in Baltimore as one of the best British forensic pathologists. Assignment also included Molly's collaboration with FBI.
So with Sherlock's support and encouragement, she had left England. But her task was not completed on schedule because a few days before her return, Molly ran into the wife and son of a murdered young woman. This encounter had forced her to turn directly to Mycroft. There was a need for a person with his political power to handle a sensitive situation involving these two people, one of whom was a British citizen.
Mycroft had immediately abandoned all his commitments as soon as Molly had revealed to him the true identity of the victim's wife and had joined her in Baltimore. Mycroft's intent was to take mother and son to a safe place in Scotland or Ireland, "I don't think it's appropriate for her to go back to London" he had explained as soon as he and Molly had met at the airport.
"Why not? Her home is London, Mycroft" Molly had said looking him straight in the eye, "Are you aware of the mess she did last time, right? She's dangerous" he had paused and shaking his head had added, "And honestly I am surprised you are the one asking me to bring her back to London…if I were you I would keep her light years away from my house and the man…".
She had raised her hand to interrupt him "But you are not me…I know perfectly well what worries you, but many things have changed. Now she has a son. Find them a safe place, please", Mycroft had shrugged "As you want. But remember that a leopard can't change its spots".
But two days after Mycroft's arrival, when almost everything was ready for their secret return to London, something happened that shattered all their plans. The young boy felt ill and the medical check revealed that he, just four and a half years old, was suffering from a particularly aggressive form of leukaemia and travelling was absolutely not recommended.
Molly who was aware that an experimental treatment had started a year earlier at John Hopkin's for that disease, had convinced Mycroft to talk to the top management of the hospital to include the child in the treatment protocol.
Her mother was no ordinary woman, her past and the information in her possession were the reason why her life partner had been killed and why she and his son were now in danger. So Mycroft had made a deal with her.
Her son would be treated and once he got better, they would both be transferred to London under witness protection. In the meantime she would begin to provide the British and American governments with everything she had come to know over the past years: secret meetings, terrorist cells, assassinations, facts, dates…everything.
The little boy's mother had accepted on one condition, that Molly remain in Baltimore with them for as long as necessary and that she personally gave the boy the injections and followed him in the chemotherapy session, as a sort of personal doctor "Sean and I, we only trust her".
Mycroft had turned his gaze towards the back of the room where Molly was sitting silently. She had nodded "Okay, I'll stay. You have to take care of all the necessary permits, Mycroft" she had replied. It had taken a few days for her and the little boy to grow fond of each other and Molly didn't feel like leaving him right now he needed more support.
"But Sherlock…" he had answered back looking first at the lady in front of him and then at her, who had stiffened "Not everything revolves around Sherlock. He'll have to be content with working for a few more months with Dr Williams. Anyway, I'll deal with him" and with a steadfast look she had left the room.
Only after the boy's blood tests were encouraging about the remission of the disease, were they allowed to return to England with the agreement that Molly would take care of giving the child the three more injections that concluded the treatment and perform blood tests to be sent to Baltimore.
And now this "assignment" was a source of concern for her, but not for what she had to do, rather because she was obliged, at the behest of the two people involved, to absolute secrecy. None of her friends, however trusted they were, could know who and what she was involved with, least of all Sherlock.
And Molly feared she wouldn't be able to hide the truth from him. He would see her, she was sure of it. Sherlock would quickly realize that she was hiding something, was involved in something secret. It was one thing to lie to him from a distance, through a connection with Facetime. Totally different was lying to him in person.
