This is a one shot, one of my own making. Molly is shot, but before she was, she gave Sherlock an ultimatum. Either figure out what they are going to do with their love... or she was taking up a new job. (Post TFP by like 4 years) And now that she has been shot and is having major complications... it's time for Sherlock to think about all the times he has had with Molly Hooper. No matter how insignificant. (Won't be posting things from the show besides small conversations, every thing is sort of new in this OS) Please review.
He had heard the shot. Watched the kick back, but the aim wasn't right. It wouldn't hit him or John. But why was the man now smiling like he had won. Sherlock's head swiveled when he heard a smack of flesh and he saw Molly landing, she had fallen forward. No exit wound.
She fell the wrong way. John was moving to her, and Sherlock knew that he would be of more help to her so he turned to the man who now dropped the gun and held his hands up.
"You thought I would take Dr. Watson from you? Even when everyone known Molly is who matters most?" He asked with a laugh before Sherlock was hitting him. Punching him over and over. He used his fists and elbows, making him drop to the floor before Sherlock took control, holding him up partially, kicking him in the vital organs.
Lestrade arrived with the ambulance, making sure Molly was okay as officers took hold of Sherlock, detaining him. "Look at me!" Lestrade shouted and Sherlock's rage subsided just a bit, his head turned, wanting to see Molly, but she was being rushed away on a stretcher and John was at her side. "Sherlock!" Lestrade shouted to get his attention again.
"What?" He asked before looking at him head on.
"When did he drop his gun? Before or after you attacked him."
"Some time in the middle." Sherlock knew that Lestrade already knew it was before, it was far enough away from where the man was now laying unconscious.
"Let's go." Lestrade told him, patting his arm, making him turn from the man now being handcuffed and he would wait for another ambulance. Lestrade led Sherlock out to his car, putting him in the back seat before he was on his way, following the ambulance with Molly in it. 4 or 5 minutes later they got to the ambulance. John was outside, hands fidgeting as he tried to get the semi dried blood off of them.
Sherlock waited and John stood up, ready to report. "She was shot just under her ribcage and sternum. they thing with the way she fell she might also have a brain injury, her heart gave out on the ride over, they resuscitated her immediately, she was strong on the way in, but I heard them say a code blue in her operating room... I came out here." John told him and Sherlock moved to go inside, but Lestrade asked him to wait.
"What was she doing there Sherlock?" He asked and Sherlock worked his jaw.
"She had come over a couple hours earlier. She wasn't feeling well. She had a cold the past couple days, she said she was getting over it. Then she started to sneeze and she was so dizzy. I put her in your old room John. She must have come down when-"
"She was sick?" John asked and Sherlock nodded. "I am going to tell the doctors. They need to put her on a high dose of antibiotics." John ran in, full doctor mode.
"Why did she come over. Besides being sick." Lestrade asked, crossing his arms.
"We just had to talk. She said that she was being offered a job in Scotland." Sherlock told him and Lestrade blew out a breath.
"A better job?" Lestrade hit it on the nose and all Sherlock could do was keep his mouth shut, his mind going through their earlier conversation.
"Hello Molly." He heard Mrs. Hudson before she started to talk to her about how she would get her a cup of tea, and a warm rag so that her nose would lose some of that redness.
"Hello Sherlock." He looked up from his violin when she got inside the flat and he set it aside.
"Good afternoon. Sit anywhere." He told her and she just nodded before sitting the farthest away from him she could be while still being in the same room. "What have you come to tell me?" He asked and moved to stand.
"I need to know some things Sherlock, and before you ask why... I will only tell you after you tell me the honest truth." She told him. He noticed that she was holding her pride in, giving herself confidence. It was something very important.
"Okay, ask away." He told her and while she sat up and looked at him.
"Are you ever going to act on what we have confessed or is that all you are capable of?" She asked him and Sherlock just kept his face stone like. "Answer the simple yes or no Sherlock. I need to know."
"If I say yes-"
"No. You won't play those games with me Sherlock. My head hurts enough! You either say yes or no because I need to know. I already have a good idea. I have waited 4 years for some kind of sign that you are getting better... and yes you have been nicer. Yes you have been considerate to not use me for lab purposes- but that isn't what I need to know. I need to know if you will ever do something with your feelings, or if we just pretend that it never happened." Molly's hands were tight on her lap, her eyes and nose as red as can be as she started to hold off tears.
"I don't know. I never let myself think about what could happen." Sherlock told her honestly and she gulped. "Why is this a deadline now?" He asked her and she gulped.
"I have an offer. An amazing offer to go and control my own lab in Scotland. And I needed to know if Rosie was the only thing keeping me here... or if something else could happen. Rosie is young, but she is in school now. She doesn't spend every other day with me. She and I could spend time together every other weekend. But you.. you and I would never see each other again Sherlock. I would need a complete fresh start from you. I would need you to stay far away from me." Molly told him. Sniffling this time, and Mrs. Hudson, just in time with her little tray came up and set it up, asking Sherlock to bring it down when they were done before turning and leaving.
"When do you have to respond by?" Sherlock asked her and she looked at him.
"I need you to figure it out before I leave this flat Sherlock. Is there ever going to be anything between us?" She asked him and Sherlock gulped and moved to sit down.
"Then allow me a few minutes to collect my thoughts. Think things through." He asked of her and she just nodded and sighed.
Within those five minutes... she sneezed ten times, making Sherlock not only unfocused, but worried about her health. "Are you sick?"
"I have been for the past couple days. I know you didn't realize." She stood up to leave, thinking that he had an answer, telling him a soft good bye as she stood but she swayed.
"You are not leaving. Go upstairs, sleep some. Give me more time." Sherlock almost begged. He really was trying to buy himself more time to think. He didn't go a lot of it when she was sneezing, and in fact, she always distracted him from his mind palace.
She went upstairs with Sherlock leading she had still been dizzy and while he went back downstairs to think, he didn't realize he would have a visitor a couple hours later with a gun.
Sherlock had moved to a chair, leaning back, waiting for John to come back with some kind of news.
But while he was waiting Sherlock's mind drifted to what Molly wanted from him. He knew, deep down, she needed that answer. That he needed to think about that answer hard before he gave her one. She might not be here for much longer, but that didn't mean Sherlock couldn't make up his mind, no matter how much it might hurt if he came to the realization that he did want her.
He looked down the hall both ways before he closed his eyes and started to remember everything about Molly. Everything, because he never erased anything when it came to her. Not even how they met.
Sherlock was looking around the morgue, waiting for someone to buzz him in. Mike had hired someone straight from med school, not many people wanted to work in the morgue when they can be with living patients, which was why Sherlock was impressed that not only had he found someone, he had found woman.
He had already learned her name. Molly Hooper. Barely 23. Perfect scores on all tests through all her schooling. She was supposed to be as sharp as a tac, and yet, she was late. And Sherlock was already thinking about a text he would sent Mike Stamford about her being unprofessional on her supposed first day.
He waited an hour before he saw her walking towards the door to let him in. "Can I help you with something sir?" She asked looking completely confused.
"Yes. I am Sherlock Holmes. Mike Stamford has given me free reign to the morgue-"
"Well I didn't hear anything about that Dr. Holmes-"
"Not Doctor." Sherlock stopped her, only gaining a curious look from her again.
"You're not a doctor and Mike lets you into this morgue?" She asked, not letting him pass and not moving her foot from the door, completely keeping him out.
"Because I am with the NSY."
"Oh. I didn't realize there was a homicide in the morgue." She told him, and he worked his jaw.
"There isn't." He said and he didn't like that she wasn't letting him in.
"Well then, why are you here?" She asked and he looked her over. Wanting to find something to make her move, even if it was just a shocking example. But she didn't have much.
"You have a cat, male by the scent. You have never had your hair done before this once when you got it dyed just a shade lighter. You still have clothes you brought 4 years ago, probably because you couldn't afford new ones. Yet, you seem to have enough money to buy your new lab coat, new shoes-"
"What is your point Mr. Holmes? Yes I have a cat. And yes, I know that you can smell the high ammonia from my clothes. Which does indicate that it is either one male cat, or a couple females. How you knew it was just one boy I don't understand. Nor do I care. However, I will tell you that I can afford new clothes, just don't see the point in getting new clothes when I wasn't bothering to go out and party or have fun. I was at school for school, and I am at work for work. My clothes are comfortable and work appropriate. And yes, I did buy new shoes. I needed new ones for the longer hours and they are also slip proof. So... Mr. Holmes... why are you here?"
She had understood his deductions. Had counteracted him. And he had learned that if he wanted something from Dr. Hooper deduction in the bad way is not the way to go, just the opposite. He could still remember the way she reacted when he first complimented her.
"How did you know it was just one male when we first met?" He heard her voice as he looked through the lenses.
"You only had one kind and one color of hair on your new coat." He muttered and she sighed a little laugh, making him look up. He had asked her for a couple skin fragments and he really needed them now.
"Very smart. But what if it had been two female grey cats?" She asked and he worked his jaw. He needed those slices.
"Did you try new blush Molly? It's working for you." He asked. She blushed harder, no makeup needed after that.
"No. Just warm in here I guess." He had noticed for a while that she had been watching him. At first he was sure it was to make sure that he didn't take any more equipment home. But now he was sure it was because she found him curious and attractive. Her pupils always dilated when they made eye contact.
"Is there not enough donated bodies for the skin-"
"Oh... right. I can go and get them now. Just give me a couple minutes." She took off quickly, leaving a smirking and impressed Sherlock. He was impressed with himself, not her. He actually pulled it off. And every time she dilly dallied after that he pulled out a compliment he would search out.
"She is stable, they are closing up the organ, salvaging what they can. She might need a lot of time off to recover but most of the doctors are sure she is going to pull through just fine." Sherlock looked up and over to John as he walked closer.
"Good." Sherlock nodded, looking away as he thought about something else.
"What was she doing there Sherlock? Honestly. She couldn't be moving away." John asked, rubbing the back of his head and Sherlock looked over at him.
"She is thinking about leaving. All my fault for not making a move earlier. She mentioned that while Rosie is in school now she didn't need Molly as much. She would come down to play and hang out and be a god mother every other weekend. But she wouldn't want to see me." Sherlock told him.
"Jesus Christ Sherlock. What did you tell her?" John asked and Sherlock just avoided looking at him. "You told her to go?"
"No. I told her that I would have to think. To figure things out."
"You hadn't done that enough in the past couple years-"
"I didn't want to. I didn't think she would want to-"
"Sherlock!" John shouted, cutting him off. "She told you that she loved you. You told her that you loved her. And you thought she wouldn't want to talk about it?" John shouted. "You two have been getting closer these past couple years. When I needed you as god parents you both stepped up. You can't tell me all those sleepovers you never once thought about it."
Sherlock turned away from his best friend again. Thinking back to the only sleep over that always came to mind. It was just a year ago, maybe a little longer now.
"We're here." Sherlock turned to see Molly and Rosie walking into the flat. He went to set down the violin but Rosie squealed and asked him to play a song.
"Something slow Sherlock. I want to show you what I learned in dance class." She ordered and Sherlock looked to Molly as she took off the jumper and shoes, putting the bags down and moving to sit down.
"Now... what do you say?" Molly asked her, demanding her to remember the manners she was instilling in her.
"Please Uncle Sherlock. You know that I love when you play." Molly laughed at the show Rosie was now putting on for Sherlock. Batting her eyelashes, putting her hands together under her chin, tilting her head. She somehow had a rush course in making Sherlock bend to her will that Molly had missed out on.
"Fine." Sherlock told her before going to his mind palace, getting the right slow song he would love watching her dance to.
"Come on Aunt Molly, dance with me." Molly was being forced in as well. One look at the little blonde curls pushed away from her bright blue eyes and Molly caved every time. They all loved to see her smile.
Sherlock started to play, going with high notes, all long carried out ones. Molly was mostly holding her hand up so she could twirl. But Sherlock was matching Molly watch Rosie. She had a glow about her. A glow she had whenever she was immensely happy. And that made Sherlock happy, as happy as he would express anyways.
He watched them dance, doing a waltz and watching Molly take Rosie in circles on her feet and then when they were done, and out of breath, Sherlock moved to start again. Making a new melody that neither of them knew.
They both sat there, Rosie in Molly's lap, simply watching as Sherlock composed a whole new song in a matter of minutes. He moved to write it down as Molly and Rosie went to set up her bed. As usual Molly would take Sherlock's bed, and he would not sleep. Despite taking the couch and 'being okay with it' he knew that he could function without a lot of sleep. But that night, the new composition that he wrote, he tucked it under his chair, hiding it like a kid with a dead animal. He had named it Molly.
"Are you going to ask her to stay?" John asked him, pulling him out of his memory.
"I can't ask her to do anything. She has already made up her mind. Even took the time to think about my feelings. That is why she gave me this ultimatum. Either I tell her that we can try, and we do... or we don't and she leaves. She already explained that if she does leave, which she meant by when, when she does leave... she asked me to never talk to her again."
"Really?"
"Basically." Sherlock interrupted John and looked around. Waiting for another report.
"Sherlock... would you want to try with her? I know that you barely had a relationship with Irene, and you and I both know she is alive somewhere... but please tell me that you aren't waiting for her."
"Why would I wait for Irene Adler?" He asked John completely drawing a blank.
"I don't know. She still texts you. She did-"
"I believe she once told you she was gay John. She might like controlling men but she would never want a serious relationship with a man. Especially me. She just wanted to see me broken. Like I would beg." Sherlock huffed a laugh and John smirked at his friend.
"Didn't you beg Molly?"
"Not in that way John-"
"Kind of. You needed her for a case-"
"Well who else would be pregnant?" Sherlock looked over at him now.
"But you did beg her to help." John laughed before realizing that this situation, it wasn't a laughing matter.
But Sherlock had already gone to that memory.
"A man is murdering pregnant women." He shouted at her and Molly sighed.
"And you want me to be the next target Sherlock. How is that okay?" She asked him and he sighed.
"I would never let anything bad happen to you. We just need to catch this guy. Who knows how many other women and babies could be targets before you." He said and Molly sighed. "Please Molly. I can't do this without you."
"And why can't you find an officer-"
"Because none will work with me. Please."
Thinking back now he knew that he begged twice.
Molly had been signed up for the undercover operation. Going to La Maze for 4 weeks before Sherlock found the first three suspects, and the second had made his move. Flirting with Molly, talking about his wife like he hated her, slightly making fun of her weight, even joked about how fat and miserable the child was making her already.
No happy father would talk like that. The others might just be creeps but a hateful father was something that Sherlock knew wasn't right. He had to admit, seeing Molly with a big round belly, holding his hand, pretending to be his wife, even if h wasn't actually himself, it felt right. It made him wonder what would have happened if he was normal, if had been a chemist and met Molly naturally through work. If he had been normal... he would have talked with her. Would have dated her and married her and they would actually be a real couple with a baby on the way. But he wasn't normal, and deep down he knew that she deserved someone better than he could ever be.
Sherlock decided then and there that was the time he figured him and Molly would never have a real chance. That she didn't deserve to have someone like him. He wasn't good enough for her.
"So... what is it going to be Sherlock? Are you going to take your chance... or are you going to let someone who really doesn't deserve her win her over, and then... when she is so in love, he leaves her high and dry. At least you would never leave her once you are serious about keeping her."
"I can't just keep her John. She is her won person you know. It's not like you kept Mary."
"No... but you can try and keep her. Keep her by your side for as long as you both shall live. And I kept Mary. For as long as I could. I wanted her beside me for the rest of our lives. But instead of her I got Rosie. And I am okay with that. But are you going to let Molly have a fake happily ever after? Or are you going to make yourselves happy by making sure you take your chance with her?" John asked him and Sherlock looked over at him. "You know there is a reason Mary wanted Molly as a god mother, and it was more than just her being the only logical choice."
"John... text me with any and all updates. Bad or good. I need to get something." Sherlock was up and away before he could hear Johns response.
He made it back to 221 B, he grabbed what he was there for before heading back to the hospital. He stayed in her room. He had been told she was in a coma, she would need to come out of it by herself, and it was 3 days before they had positive results and were 100% sure she would recover in time.
She woke up a couple days later, wondering what had happened, heavy on pain medications, and Sherlock started to play the song he had written her. And a couple since. "What song is that again?" She asked humming as she seemed to be ready to go back to sleep.
"I called it Molly." Sherlock told her and she nodded as she closed her eyes.
"It sounds happy." She whispered and he grabbed her hand as she fell back asleep.
"Because you make me happy." He kissed her hand. "I would beg you more than twice to believe me. I want you." He whispered as her heart went to her relaxed beat, her breathing even as well, she was asleep and he would just have to tell her again when she woke up.