Molly can't quite understand why the heart keeps seeping out. This place which was a calm haven is turning into a chaotic mess. She wishes that she could wake up, she guesses that's the bad thing about being dead, you don't get to come back and give life another go.
She wonders when they will bury her, she can't understand why she is still in the freezer, surely Sherlock must have solved her death by now, it was only a mugging, wasn't it?
In 221B he watches out the window as the ordinary people go about their dull life. He has sworn to solve her case, but he hasn't realised how difficult it is to cope with the living, he almost understands why Molly chose to work with the dead, they didn't have feelings to destroy.
John Watson is worried about his friend, he hasn't left the flat for at least two weeks, and the last time he left was a visit to Molly in the hospital. John shakes his head, there is little hope for her, and it seems only a matter of time.
Upon entering his former home he is greeted by a complete and utter mess. Bits of paper and notes lie strewn all over the barely visible floor. And in the middle of the complete and utter chaos sits a cross legged consulting detective, at a complete loss of how to solve a case with no body, at least not yet.
It is quiet in her mind morgue today, no sudden shakes or disruptions, just the serenity of silence. Molly wonders why everything is so still. She expects at least to hear the constant hum of what she assumed was the morgues generator, its noise irritating yet somehow comforting. Slowly she walks towards her own room, the bleached corridors reminding her of the job that she once cherished.
She stops outside the room and tries to open the door, the door handle appears to be stuck, her mind is beginning to rebel. She cannot forget her life, with more determination she prizes the handle, pulling with all her strength. Finally in one swing, it opens and she is struck with her whole life memories, they whizz around her head colliding painfully around her, everything begins to shake and her eyes begin to roll, she can't understand what's happening. How can your mind collapse when you are already dead? Before the darkness collides she swears that she can feel a hand holding her own; but she believes it to be only a hallucination, and promptly continues her journey into the unavoidable black hole.
John stares at his best friend, watching intently his frenzied hand movements and twitching fingers, he opens his mouth to protest Sherlock's crazed behaviour when he feels his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. Quickly recognising the hospitals number he flips his phone open expecting yet another relapse stomach pump for his sister. Instead his face pales as he hears the message.
"Sherlock, we better get to the hospital…"
"Why would I want to go there?" he replied caustically.
"It's Molly, Sherlock, she went into cardiac arrest earlier today, they've managed to revive her…but, her condition's deteriorating."
Somewhere in the great Sherlock Holmes' mind a pillar comes crashing down in front of the room marked Molly, sealing in all the memories, protecting her legacy.
For once in his life Sherlock feels a pain in his chest and he wonders what inspired him to grow a heart, after all, what happened to his barriers of loneliness,
What happened to "Alone is what protects me."
After all it never worked for Molly.