It was nearly an hour later when Sherlock made his way up the stairs from 221C to 221B, his mind jumbled with a thousand different thoughts and questions, though despite this he couldn't keep it from lingering on what almost had happened in the cab before they had been interrupted. It had been a mistake on his part, a momentary lapse in judgment that left him feeling the worst sort of ass. Despite only recently becoming acquainted with the depth of his potential feelings for Molly, he'd never been a stranger to how she felt about him. For him to have nearly made a move on her now, on the eve of her being violated in a literally life changing manner had his conscience taking him to task in for once twin voices, voices that sounded suspiciously like John and Mycroft respectively. If Mycroft was suddenly lending his voice to his conscience he knew he was doomed. He would need to be more careful, Molly was in a fragile state, faced with enormous changes to both her person and her life. The last thing she needed at the moment was him stepping in and declaring feelings he had little knowledge of how to deal with and simply adding more weight to the already taxing load of stress she now carried. He'd suffer on in silence before he did that to her.
All because someone...this Theodore, thought she was easy prey. The very idea made his fist clench, his blood boiling in a rage that had him fighting the urge to tear apart everything in his path. Mrs. Hudson would never forgive him. No, he would approach this calmly, rationally. And then when he was sure he knew all he needed to in order to find this Theodore he would tear the unbeating heart from the bastard's chest and feed it to him for what he had done to his pathologist. To his Molly. She was a rare pure soul, resoundingly caring and always quick to help how she could. To think that this vampire, whomever he was, had nearly taken that from the world, from him, only assured that there would be no mercy for him when Sherlock finally found him. He was never more deadly determined than when the people he cared about were at risk, and now was certainly no exception.
His steps slowed as he entered his own flat and realized he wasn't alone. Scowling as he came around the corner into the living room , recognizing his intruder. Hanging up his coat and dropping himself onto his couch he promptly turned his back on his unwelcome guest. "Go away Mycroft! Don't you have some international scandal to quell somewhere? If not then go play war. I've neither the desire nor the interest to pay any attention to you." He smirked to himself, pleased with his casual dismissal of his annoying older brother. "Really brother mine? Not even when my visit concerns Miss Hooper and her new...condition?" Sherlock sat up, whirling to face off against his brother, glaring darkly. "What do you know Mycroft? I want to hear it all. Now! And if you had anything to do with this so help me I'll..." "You will what Sherlock?" Mycroft stared at him unflinching, as stone-faced as he always was. "We both know I had nothing to do with Miss Hooper's change. I have however come to deal with it. Cleaning up your messes as usual little brother."
Sherlock's jaw was clenched so hard he could do little more than hiss at his brother. "And just what do you mean by dealing with DOCTOR Hooper Mycroft? Because if you think I'll let you so much as lay a hand on her you are sorely mistaken." By now Sherlock had slid to the edge of the couch, fully prepared to launch himself at Mycroft should he say one wrong word. "Come now Sherlock, you've no doubt by now found out what Mi...Dr. Hooper has become. You may not have known of such creatures before this but I have unfortunately far too much experience with this particular kind of problem. She's no longer your pathologist Sherlock, she's a predator. Ruled only by her need to stay fed. It takes years, sometimes decades for a newborn vampire to develop the self control not to attack the first person with a pulse that crosses their path when the hunger strikes them. You have no knowledge of the danger you're courting keeping her here, for you, for Mrs. Hudson. Even the Watson's."
He could picture himself punching his brother square in the face with startling clarity. How dare he imply such horrible things about Molly! He didn't care what may or may not be true about vampires, Mycroft had a file on everyone he associated with, he would know that Molly had never done anything but good her entire life. He couldn't picture that behavior changing due to a mere dependency on blood! His eyes still promised violence as he slid back in his eat deliberately, smirking darkly. "Ignorance doesn't look at all becoming on you Mykey! If you knew as much as you claimed about Molly's change you'd know that she had innumerable opportunities to quench her so called thirst on any random passerby as she made her way to Bart's, not to mention the three easy prey that stormed into her flat right after said change. If she was truly the monster you claim she is then both John, Lestrade, and myself would have ended up her first meal hours ago. Instead she had the presence of mind and self control to make her way to the blood bank at Bart's and get herself a meal that wasn't still moving about. So tell me brother dear, how could she do that if she's supposedly as mindless as you say?" Sherlock looked triumphant at Mycroft's puzzled expression.
"Because Molly Hooper has a pure heart." Both men started at the feminine voice that sounded at the door, their heads turning simultaneously to gawk at their newest intruder. Mary Watson stared at both men calmly, baby Emma perched carefully on her hip while John stared at his wife with much the confused look as everyone else. "Well you all heard me. She won't be affected by some of the things most newborn vampires usually are. She's a pure heart. Believe me when I say it's a rare occurrence. It also puts her in a very great deal of danger."