Molly Hooper had no pulse. Molly Hooper had no pulse. Molly Hooper had no pulse, and yet she continued to stare up at him with large sable eyes glistening with tears. She stood eerily still, as if waiting for an explosion. He didn't have the words yet to tell her that it was more of an implosion as his mind kicked into overdrive. Once more his mind dwelled on her lack of pulse but he shoved the thought aside, he did so hate repeating himself after all. The evidence was at the same time overwhelming and yet extremely contradictory. Molly Hooper was dead. No pulse. Cool skin, though nowhere near corpselike, more as if she had no circulation to her entire body. Perhaps she didn't, something to study later the most scientific part of whispered before he frowned and shoved that thought away as well. He noticed as he watched her still form that her breathing was sporadic at best, as if the need for it was gone but the comfort of it still had her pulling in the occasional lung full of air.
And yet for all the clear, logical evidence that said Molly Hooper should be laid out on her own autopsy table awaiting a post mortem, a thought that caused a twist in his gut that he refused to analyze the meaning of, she was still very much an ambulatory human being showing all the signs of mental cognizance that she had before her apparent break from reliance on oxygen. She showed every sign of being the exact same woman she was before. Just dead. The odd thought crossed his mind that if anyone was silly and forgetful enough to forget how to act dead when they died it would of course be Molly Hooper.
The juxtaposition of these facts left a dull throb in his mind as the whole system seemed to grind to a halt, unable to find any scientific reason that would explain how a woman, his pathologist no less, could be both alive and dead at the same time. It was as this shut down occurred that he became aware of Molly's soft voice calling his name, her tone worried as she snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Sherlock? Sherlock say something. Oh dear god I broke him. Mycroft's going to kill me." Sherlock blinked, staring down at her. "Molly I doubt very highly that as you are apparently now already dead my brother would indeed be able to kill you. Now do be quiet and tell me everything that happened and how you came to be in this current…" He broke off, gesturing to her personage. "State."
Leave it to Sherlock Holmes to drag her out of her melancholy and straight into irritation Molly thought with a wry twist of her lips as she sighed heavily, settling more comfortably into her seat. Not easy when said seat was a hard steel autopsy table. She didn't bother to acknowledge the contradiction of his order, and it had been an order in true Holmes fashion, knowing that would only earn her a scolding about avoiding the subject and to not play stupid. "Alright then, from the beginning then." She smiled sadly as she launched into the tale of meeting Theodore and the subsequent date, leaving no detail untouched as everything poured out. Despite her earlier fear over telling anyone it felt good to lay it out for Sherlock. If anyone could be trusted with such an impossible story it was him.
"I tried to fight him off when he bit me but it was like hitting a brick wall, it didn't make a bloody bit of difference. And then I got so weak from the blood loss I couldn't even fight him anymore." She could hear the waver in her own voice as tears threatened again but she was powerless to stop it and so she just kept going. "I blacked out after that. When I came to it was to nothing but pain. I felt like my blood was boiling in my veins. I couldn't even scream properly." The tears were finally falling now as she tried to suck them back with little sniffles. "I just laid there and writhed in pain until it was over. After that I felt so sick and so dirty that I wasn't even thinking about evidence when I crawled into the shower after throwing up. I just…I just couldn't believe it Sherlock. It's all so impossible and yet apparently not because here I am. Vampires are not supposed to exist but still I was attacked by one. Turned by one. God Sherlock I just drank two pints that I stole from the cold storage! Stole! Me! Molly Hooper! I haven't nicked so much as a pack of gum since I was seventeen!"
She could hear her voice rise with every word the panic setting back in again as she went over it all once more in her head. Sherlock had yet to speak but she had heard his pulse quicken at the mention of her pain and he had walked away when her tears started. He was back now though, apparently having found a box of tissues and offering them to her awkwardly. She took several as she tried to stop the flow of tears, grateful that he hadn't snapped at her for not being able to pull herself together and merely state the facts. "It was the most horrible, awful thing I've ever done and I wanted to puke but it still tasted so good. And I'm glad I did because as soon as you all arrived and I smelled you I felt so hungry, I was so afraid of hurting one of you that I just ran. I didn't want you to see me like this, any of you. I still don't."
There was a long bit of silence before Sherlock spoke and she cringed, worried about what he would say. "So definitely vampire then. Interesting. I would imagine it could have been far worse. John had a movie on just last week with zombies and as far as not quite dead dead things go that seems by far the worst. Of course that could have been ruled out immediately, you seem far too mentally cognizant for the moaning cretins I saw shambling about. Bit more Anderson's area I'd say. I imagine I'll have to do a fair bit of research, the undead were never really anything I found interesting even as a child. And lab tests will likely prove far more revealing than any of that pop culture nonsense that seems to be rotting the brains of idiot teenagers and lonely housewives with neck fetishes and far too much time on their hands." He clapped his hands together, pressing them to his lips as he watched her with something akin to fascination.
Meanwhile Molly's mouth had dropped open as she stared at him in shock. She really should have known not to expect a traditional reaction from Sherlock Holmes but still, his calm acceptance of the situation stunned her into silence. She couldn't quite understand how he could simply accept her current predicament so easily and already be talking of experiments to perform on her. Not that she was particularly happy about that last bit. Sure she had questions of her own that lab tests would help answer but she wasn't a bloody science experiment. It didn't help that the hopelessly infatuated with Sherlock section of her brain was quick to torture her by pointing out that he had rarely looked at her with as much interest as he did now. Give the man a puzzle and he was happy as clam, and Molly was apparently now the puzzle.
"Oh don't give me that sour look Molly, of course I want to do experiments. It's in your best interest to explore how much fallacy may be in all those myths and legends that neither of us ever gave a fig about. Your very survival may depend on it." The look he gave her seemed to say how obvious that should have been and how silly she was to even bristle at the idea before she could even say a word. "Now! First things first we'll have to get some phlebotomy equipment. You simply cannot go about stealing from cold storage every time you're feeling a bit peckish. You said you've had two pints already and you seem fine for now, we'll monitor that and make a time table. In the meantime I should be able to get you a bit of back stock between myself and perhaps a few of the homeless network not currently on any narcotics. Wiggins is clean and he seemed to take a shine to you, should be easy enough to secure his compliance for a bit of coin."
All this was said as he moved about the morgue, gathering up Molly's purse and coat while she tried to pull herself together enough to at least stop gawking at him like a caught fish. Thankfully he didn't seem to notice as he continued to bustle about. "Obviously you'll have to stay with me a few days while we move your things but it should be simple enough to terminate your lease and transfer the contents of your frankly appallingly small flat to 221C. As a basement flat it will be a far simpler matter to weather proof it from the sun should that particular bit of lore hold true. Not to mention the convenience of you being nearby to better monitor your condition." He held out her coat without looking at her, already busy texting away on his phone. She watched him in awe for a long moment before he finally realized she hadn't taken it. Looking up at her he huffed. "Do hurry Molly. I'd like to get you settled before Scotland Yard makes a complete and total botch of the forensics gathering thereby destroying any chance I have of learning what I can about your attacker. Take your…ompfh!"
The rest of his sentence was cut off as Molly launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she hugged him tight. All that could be heard for a long moment was her sniffles before she looked up at him and smiled through her tears. "Thank you Sherlock. For not rejecting or reviling me. For making me feel like I can still be relatively normal. For just being you." She was grateful that her eyesight seemed sharper, otherwise she may have missed the pinking of his ears before he gently unwound her arms from his torso and set her away. "Yes well…you're obviously still very much Molly Hooper. Just a bit...extra now I suppose. Stronger apparently too. We'll have to test it of course but that grip seemed far too tight for a woman of your delicate musculature. But all in all still wholly the same. You saved my life twice now Molly, least I can do is return the favor. Now do put your coat on Molly, we should be going and I'd rather not be seen with you flashing about your kitten pajamas."
She nodded, slipping on her coat and feeling better than she had since this whole mess started. The fear and anxiety were still very real and sitting like a rock in her gut but she wasn't alone now. For all that could and couldn't be said about Sherlock she was infinitely grateful to have him by her side in this. He was an unorthodox hero, but right now he was hers and she wouldn't have traded him for all the white knights of legend. That didn't stop her from frowning in concern as she recalled what he had said about needing go to the Yard however and she put a hand on his arm to stop him as he yanked open the door. "Sherlock wait! You can't seriously still think you're going to run off and go catch Theodore can you? He's a vampire Sherlock. Even if you did manage to find him I doubt any prison could hold him. And I don't even want to think about what he could do to you. Let it be Sherlock. Don't go after this one. It's not worth the mystery." Molly watched Sherlock scowl, looking affronted at her plea. "Molly Hooper the fact remains that this…vampire attacked you, killed you, and turned you into his kind against your will. The violation of your person can not stand unpunished. The mystery may not be worth the risk Molly, but you most certainly are." She gaped again as he spoke matter-of-factually before sweeping from the morgue towards the exit.