Chapter 4

Molly had just finished the report on that poor girl when John burst through the doors. The noise seemed deafening to Molly and a small squeak escaped her.

-blink-

Mike crashing into her room, demanding that she had done something to him and then beating the hell out of her for it. (how could she had done anything – she had been hiding in her room all day)

-blink-

The ambulance doors crashing closed taking her to the hospital for her dislocated vertebrae.

Opening her eyes she saw that John had crossed the room and was staring with a look of horror on his face. Molly being Molly just shrugged it off.

"you should see the other guy!"

This earned her a genuine laugh from the good doctor. He approached her the rest of the way to her. He gave her a questioning look that said "may I look?"

Molly sighed but stepped up to him and let John see the damage.

Now today the bruise was a spectacular color. It ranged from a deep purple to a slight green. It seem to be healing fast. "Molly, ya got a bruise but you will have no permanent damage." Shaking his head, he cast his eyes to the growing nothing what PTSD could do to a person's psyche.

Molly shrugged off John 's look of pity.

"John I have had worse. How is Sherlock he practically ran out of here." She sat there looking so worried.

John looked at her a little harder, what did she mean she has had worse? A soft "oh" escaped him. Then all of the things he knew about Molly fell into place. She now makes a little more sense. He didn't feel it was his place to ask what she meant by that. IF or when she was ready she would tell him. He also didn't think he could handle another emotional blow, at least not today. He would be there if she needed him, he was her friend after all.

"Well Mycroft is with him mow. Molly I just hope Baker st. is still standing when I go back home. He is in a right State. Hell, I am thinking of stopping and getting him some smokes. If that is what will take to calm him down."

That brought a smile to Molly.. .Only we would think a cancer stick is a good thing for any one.

"So molly I am heading back home. If you need anything call me. I'll keep ya posted OK?"

Molly Hooper didn't see the lonely tear that fell from her eyes but John did. In two long steps he was next to her and gave her a gentle hug.

"Molls we are going to get through this. Sherlock is horrified at what happened. We are going to be OK!" John did small circles on her back trying to comfort her.

-blink-

Sitting alone curled upon her bed. Her own arms wrapped around herself cause no one believed her.

-blink-

Standing alone at the police station telling the detective everything that she had been through begging her with her eyes to be believed and for help from the nightmare.

A sound close to a sob threatened to escape but Molly swallowed that old pain and sighed. In a very quiet voice she whispered, "tell Sherlock I am sorry I flinched, I know he didn't deliberately hurt me."

221b Baker St was quiet no shouting no gunfire (thank god!) No sounds at all were coming from the flat. John wasn't sure if it was a good thing. After checking in with Mrs. Hudson. He climbed the stairs to the flat.

It was as quiet as a confessional in the sitting room. Both brothers were sitting on the couch smoking. John felt his eyebrows raising.

"Thought you didn't smoke or frequent cafes?"

Mycroft looked up and smiled a thin smile. "only when necessary. I do believe this qualifies- don't you?"

With a quick nod he nodded, "quite right, guess it is a good thing I stopped and got these." With a quick toss he passed the fresh pack to the elder Holmes.

"has he?"

"no not yet. I feel I may be needed to stay tonight. John will that be a problem?"

"No Mycroft, it won't be a problem but don't you have a war to start or a country to run?" John didn't know why but he felt that since Sherlock was silent, it was up to him to tease his older brother.

Mycroft gave a smile that didn't quiet reach his eyes. "no not today John. Probably not tomorrow either. This is more important."

And that, John thought, was as close to a statement of sentiment we will get from Mycroft Holmes.

"So do you want any tea or coffee?"

Mycroft didn't answer that question but asked one of his own. "How is Molly?"

John gave Mycroft the basic info on how Molly was but didn't volunteer any thing to the very astute Mycroft. He didn't want Mycroft to know too much about their pathologist.

Mycroft didn't miss the signs that John had left things out . Important things. His eyes were like lasers they could cut through anyone or anything.

With a wave of his hand he motioned the elder Holmes into the kitchen. Hoping that Sherlock was so far into his mind palace not to over hear. She gave me a message for Sherlock, Mycroft. She said " sorry for flinching and she knew he didn't mean to hurt her. Then she said something that upset me further." John let that statement sink into that complex brain of Mycroft's. He waited to see his reaction to that before he made up his mind -on weather to trust Mycroft with what she suspected.

Mycroft to his credit felt like this was important. He and John shared a common interest in the protecting Sherlock but he understood institutionally that his next words mattered. That John was in his way trying to be Mycroft's friend too?

"John it takes a lot for you to get upset. You have the patience of a saint. Lord ! You live with Sherlock. So what did she say that has you upset?"

Mycroft seemed to pass some test for john. He grimaced and lowered his voice even more.

"She said that she had worse, Mycroft."

Mycroft stiffened ,his eyes enlarged for just a second(any one except someone who knew a Holmes would have missed it.) A tight-lipped I see was his only reponse outwardly. Internally where no one could see , the iceman cracked just a little . Knowing that Molly Hooper had suffered too bumped her listing in his mind from acquaintance to something to kindred soul, and someone else he should add to the list of people he personally protected. Looking back at his brother, as quiet still as if the dead could sit up and smoke. Mycroft remembered a conversation he had with his brother.

"all hearts are broken." Rubbing his eyes he realized that some hearts were never whole to begin with.

"john I am getting Anthea to bring some of my things over. Do you require anything?"

" yeah get a fan will ya? If you two are going to smoke out the flat. I am good, well as good as I am going to get until he comes out of this."

Mycroft appreciated the attempt at humor, "quite right." was his only reply.