Okay, Chapter 5. Sorry it took so long, but I had a busy weekend.
londonrunner: Hmm, good point. I don't have much experiance in these things. (Being thirteen doesn't help) You'll just have to bare with me and assume that this type of treatment isn't available at the NHS. *hopeful*
Sherlock glared daggers at the nurse who was arranging his bed. So far, she was the only one that had passed all Mycroft's tests, and now Sherlock had figured out every detail of her life, he was bored. It was early morning, and his conversation with Harry the day before was buzzing round his mind. He hoped that John was in a private room, and receiving all the treatment he needed. But for now, that didn't matter. He pressed his fingers against his forehead, and closed his eyes. He listening closely to the nurse moving around.
"Is Lestrade here?" he snapped, barely moving his lips.
"No, I don't think so dear." said the nurse.
Sherlock's lip curled, but he said nothing.
"What about Harry Watson?" he demanded.
"I think she went to get some belongings from your flat." said the nurse, bustling around.
"Pass me my phone?" he said, holding out a hand.
It took fifty seven seconds for his hand to dip under the weight of his phone. He scowled, eyes snapping open as he fixed them on the screen, texting with practised ease. He sent the text, and tossed the phone onto the table. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored... He thought grumpily. He would have said it aloud, but the nurse had forbidden it. So he sat, thinking. Hoping that he was thinking loud enough for the nurse to hear. She probably wouldn't.
"Is Lestrade here?" he asked a second time.
"No, it's only nine thirty, and visiting hours are from ten onwards."
"Lestrade is part of the police, he should be allowed in here any time." snapped Sherlock.
The nurse nodded, and made and exit, leaving Sherlock to his thoughts. His phone vibrated as it received a text, and he stretched out a hand, only finding that his fingers were a few inches away from the object. He snarled in frustration, and flopped back against the pillows, deciding to wait. It would only be Harry. The seconds ticked by, and the heart monitor continued to beep annoyingly. Sherlock closed his eyes. There was a problem he should be thinking about. But it was hard to do that in hospital. The room didn't spark any ideas. It was only possible to get suicidal thoughts by staring at the walls. And the ceiling was even worse. At least that appalling wallpaper in his flat was vaguely interesting.
At five minutes to nine, Lestrade marched in, towing a terrified looking Molly. Sherlock ignored them, and they seated themselves. He finally opened his eyes. Both Molly and Lestrade were watching him intently.
"Molly, how nice to see you. And Lestrade." said Sherlock coolly, eyes almost unblinking. Molly blushed, and Lestrade shuffled uncomfortably.
"Pass me my phone."
Lestrade handed him the device, and Sherlock scrolled down the texts, finally finding the one from Harry.
Okay, got it. See you 11. Has Mycroft moved John?
Sherlock nodded to himself, and tossed the phone at Molly, who luckily caught it.
"Molly, I need to know about Jim from IT." he said.
Molly blushed, but managed to compose herself.
"Why do you want to know about him?" she asked defensively.
"Hmm, maybe it's the fact that he tried to kill me and John at the pool. And he's the reason I'm stuck in this... place. Or maybe, I'm incredibly interesting in your social life."
Molly's mouth fell open, and she stared at Sherlock. Then closed it with a snap.
"Jim wouldn't do that! What do you have against him? First you accuse him of... of being gay! And now, trying to kill you! Jim would never do that." she shouted standing up, red faced.
"Oh please." moaned Sherlock, closing his eyes.
"Look Molly. If Sherlock says its true, then it is. I'm sorry." said Lestrade gently. "You know all of these explosions," Molly nodded hesitantly. "And how Sherlock's been working on a case. Well Jim Moriarty is responsible for all of it."
Molly fell into her chair, covering her face in her hands.
"Now that we've got that sorted, I need you to tell me every detail of your time together." said Sherlock matter of factly, receiving a glare from Lestrade.
Molly gave a shaky squeak. Sherlock drew a deep breath.
"Molly, I know your upset. But Moriarty has the power to kill thousands of people, he nearly killed me." Sherlock paused. "And John. I need your help. You want to stop Moriarty, right?"
Molly nodded hesitantly.
"He was just always so nice. He understood everything. H-he, took notice of me." she shot Sherlock a teary glance, but luckily missed his eyes rolling.
"Okay, how did you meet?" asked Sherlock steadily.
"About a week before he met you. To be honest, I didn't notice him until he came over, and asked if I would like a coffee. He was so hesitant, and... sweet, that I could refuse. So we went. And I talked all about my job in the Morgue, and he didn't seem to mind I worked with dead bodies. And the end of our coffee, he offered to take me out to dinner the next time. And I accepted."
"More data please, less about yourself." said Sherlock harshly.
Molly nodded quickly.
"Well, we went. And he asked about my job again. And the topic went over to you. He was interested, but sided with me, saying you were an unfeeling man," Molly bit her lip, but Sherlock shrugged this comment off.
"Go on, what else did he say?"
"He said that nobody could ignore me, and that you were crazy to ignore me." Molly blushed again.
"I get the picture. And after he met me?"
"He became a little distant, but we still went on dates. I wasn't sure whether to believe you or not. Eventually he came over and broke it off, without any warning." Molly sniffed a little.
"It wasn't a healthy relationship to start with. You were using him to get to me. And he was using you to get to me." Sherlock shrugged. "Okay, you can go Molly."
Molly nodded tremulously, and stood.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock. I swear I didn't know."
"If you had known, I would know by now." said Sherlock, his voice a little kinder than normal.
Molly quickly left.
"So, any ideas?" asked Lestrade as the door swung shut.
"None yet. Molly didn't know anything. Just another tool in Moriarty's game. Did you double security?"
"Yes."
"Well, make sure Molly's safe, she could be in danger."
Lestrade nodded, and made to leave.
"How's John?" asked Sherlock a little hesitantly.
"Mycroft moved him to a private room, and he's receiving treatment."
"Good..."
A silence spanned out. And Lestrade took another step towards the door.
"For the first time, Lestrade, I didn't know what was going to happen, when John walked out at the pool."
Lestrade was saved from answering this awkward stament by the door being flung open, and Sherlock's nurse hurrying in.
She was middle aged women, twice divorced, and had no children. Though from her scraped pink finger nails, Sherlock knew she had a lover. He gave Lestrade a regal wave of the hand, dismissing him. The nurse hurried over, and examined the heart monitor.
"How are you feeling, pet?" she asked.
At the word 'pet' Sherlock's fists clenched, and the heart monitor sped up slightly. Everything was reminding him of Moriarty and John.
"I'm fine." he said roughly, flinging the thin sheets to the end of the bed, and getting up.
"Hey! Stop right there mister. You are not allowed to leave your bed." snapped the nurse, taking Sherlock firmly by the arm, and pushing him none to gently back into bed.
"I need to pace." growled Sherlock, drawing his legs up to his chest. "You don't have any idea how hard it is to track down bombers in hospital. So much I'm not allowed to do." he glared angrily at the nurse.
"You'll be allowed out in a week." said the nurse weakly.
"A week! I'll die of boredom by then. And Moriarty will have killed at least four other people. When can I go and see John?"
"Your brother gave me express orders not to allow you out of the room. No moving."
Sherlock froze. So Mycroft had said that, had he? he thought angrily. Then a slight smile twitched on his pale lips. That meant that their 'deal' was off. He could be out of this dratted place in a day. Then the search could really begin. Sherlock wiped his smile away, and lay down, escape plans releasing him from the boredom for a short while.
There we go. I hope it wasn't to boring. Sherlock's already getting frustrated. Thanks for all the amazing reviews! Next chapter up by the weekend! Share your opinions and review (=