"I promise to be good, don't look in the mirror
At the face you don't recognize."
The flat was silent. Molly's alarm did not go off in the morning, Toby made no hungry sounds from the kitchen, and no noises from the street made their way into her cold rooms. Fear prevented her from approaching the windows and doors. He could always see her, he had said. Sebastian could be hiding around any corner, waiting for her to make a mistake and give him an excuse to send a bullet through her chest.
"You never know when I might pop in for a chat."
Molly clutched an untouched mug of cold tea tightly in her hands. In the corner of her kitchen, on the floor beneath the top of the counters was one of the only places in her flat that could not be seen from the outside.
Molly had neither seen nor heard from Jim in the three days since he had left her on the sidewalk in front of her flat. The only sign of Sebastian's presence she had seen was the frequent appearance of the small, red pinprick of light from a laser sight. On the first day, she had peeked out her front door and it appeared on her chest, sending her scurrying back inside. The next day she slid open the window of her bedroom and was nearly blinded by the angry red light directed into her eyes. She had fallen clumsily back onto the floor, bruising her already pained elbow. The window was still open, letting the frigid morning air sweep over her unmade bed.
On the wall in front of her was a framed photo of herself from her primary school days. Long braided hair, tidy uniform, innocence and naivety practically written across her tiny face. The world had seemed to be so wonderful at the time, as wonderful as a child could imagine it to be: Full of heroes, princesses, and monsters to be slain. Of course, the world was nothing like that. Sherlock had proven that to her. Jim had wrapped the cold and heartlessness of the real world around Molly like a heavy shroud. No such illusions of the world were left to her, replaced with harsh realities of violence that she saw every day in the morgue. It occurred to her that some other unfortunate pathologist would be examining the charred remains of Tom's body.
She stood up abruptly and put her mug in the sink. For a moment she stared at the photograph, slightly faded with age. She pulled it from the hook and slipped the paper from between the glass and stiff cardboard. Just a stupid little girl, I had no idea….
In a drawer Molly found a book of matches and struck one. The flame sputtered to life, then burned steadily. She touched it to the photograph. The thick paper curled within the flame. Molly dropped it on her counter and watched the fire consume the thin, young face. Small crackles broke the silence. That's not me anymore, she thought.
Molly brushed the ashes into her hand and washed them down the sink. Had she ever truly been so stupid? The world was not made of good people and bad people. She had been foolish to think so. Even those she had thought heroic disappointed her in the end.
Her phone beeped loudly and Molly jumped, cursing under her breath.
Kings Cross. 20 mins. Don't be late.
Her stomach plummeted. It could only be Jim. Who else ordered her about with cryptic texts? Forgetting her messy bun and untidy t-shirt, Molly buttoned her coat and half ran outside. In her frustration and anxiety, she once again did not notice the man watching her from across the street.
Sebastian watched Molly burst out the door and run down the street with confused frustration. Had Jim given her permission to leave without his knowledge? He had scared the girl so easily and affectively; she had avoided even going near the door for two days. He frowned, but decided to consult his employer before proceeding too hastily.
Did you let Molly out finally?
It was several minutes before he received a response.
Go get her. Now.
"Shit," Sebastian shouted, drawing angry glares from passers by. If Jim hadn't let her out… He felt his gun in his waistband. He took off after Molly, footsteps echoing loudly off the brick around him.
Molly waited in front of the ticket office of King's Cross Station anxiously, wringing her hands and glancing around, searching for Jim. Why would he want to meet her here? He had only ever contacted her at work or come personally to her flat. Tired travelers moved past her in droves, some heading for the underground and others for trains heading to further destinations. Her eye caught on every dark haired or suited man, then fell away when it was not him. Her heart leapt each time, fearful, but oddly excited. She was glad he had let her leave, but wasn't sure why.
Sebastian pushed aggressively past a large family pushing heavily laden trolleys, headed towards the platforms. He searched frantically, shouting profanities and tearing at his hair. Why did I let her go? What was I fucking thinking? He spun on his heel towards the shops preceding the main hall and slammed into a hooded figure. Sebastian raised a fist and cursed violently.
"Watch were you're fucking-" He stopped short and stared. If Sebastian knew anything, it was how to hide a gun beneath layers of clothes. The normal people jostling past them would never notice, but Sebastian could not miss it. The man smiled from beneath his hood, and took off towards the ticket office, disappearing into the crowd. Sebastian pulled his phone from his jacket and dialed, running headlong into the crowd.
"She's here. She's at King's Cross. Somewhere in the crowd. Someone here's got a gun." The voice on the other end of the line shouted a long string of profanities. A violent crack split into Sebastian's ear as the phone made contact with something very hard.
Several people frowned at Molly in confusion. She had been standing in the same spot for some time, ignoring their questioning looks and the announcements of departing trains. She wanted to leave desperately. She checked her watch. It had been well over 20 minutes. When she looked back up into the crowd staring up at the schedule, she noticed one man who was not. He stared at her intently for a moment before raising his arm. Molly raised her hand slightly to wave. She smiled politely, and saw the gun in his raised hand. Her face fell.
"Molly!" Someone shouted next to her. The gun fired noiselessly. An impact at her waist pushed her aside. The bullet missed her heart and tore through her shoulder. She fell to the floor, landing hard, crushed by a heavy man who had knocked her away. Her vision clouded. Hands rolled her onto her back and patted her face roughly.
"Molly look at me. Molly!" Sebastian's face swam above her. More shouts, and someone pushed Sebastian off her roughly.
"Jim…" She muttered. Someone's foot hit her shoulder and she screamed in pain.
"Get back! Fuck all of you, I'll rip your lungs out! Sebastian, find him!" Footsteps faded away, and Sebastian's face was replaced with Jim's. A voice above Molly was talking quickly, describing the attack to emergency services. Warm blood was spreading across Molly's shirt and pooling on the floor. Jim was shouting again, fighting off concerned bystanders trying to help her.
"Sir, we need to get her into an ambulance."
"Fuck off! I'll kill you if you touch her!"
Someone jostled her slightly and was knocked back by Jim.
"Jim stop…" Molly felt dizzy. She remembered when she had twisted the chains of the swing as a child, and the sensation of letting it spin out of control. She called for her mother to make it stop. When it ended, she collapsed on the ground and cried until she could walk again. This is worse, she thought sluggishly.
His shouts echoed in the station. Paramedics swarmed around her. Someone was holding Jim back, pulling him away. They lifted her and carried her out onto the street and into the waiting ambulance. Someone held her hand tightly. They spoke to each other quickly, evaluating her condition.
"Is someone bringing her boyfriend?"
"Yeah, but he broke Brian's nose so I think the police are taking him."
He broke someone's nose. Molly had no idea who Brian was, but she instantly felt sorry for him. The ambulance hit a bump and Molly shouted in pain.
"It's all right dear, we're almost there."
"We're going to have to put her under." They spoke as if she could not hear them. What would have happened had Sebastian not pushed her away? An image of her own body spread out on an examination table in a morgue flashed across her mind's eye. A clean gunshot wound in her chest and her hands neatly folded.
"Where's Jim? Who shot… who shot me?" She flinched and cried out, "God, I hate him."
"Its ok sweetie," The female paramedic smiled down at her. "He'll be there when you wake up. I promise."