Then

Chapter three: Perfect

"Good morning Molly! Feeling better I take it?"

John grinned, practically skipping into the morgue. Molly glanced up and smiled.

"Yep. Went to the doctors in the end. He gave me some meds. Feeling a lot better now." He nodded, pulling out a stool. Sherlock sat over a microscope.

"Hey Sherlock." Molly added, flicking through paperwork.

Sherlock glanced up briefly. It'd been three days since her friends little visit, and the pathologist looked a lot better. No puffy nose, hair tucked away neatly, nails painted a gentle pink. She looked better- No- She was better.

Still, something didn't feel right to the detective. Something made him squint slightly at her perfect appearance and shiny nails. Something made his brain twist around her smile, something made him analyze the way her fingers scratched the papers. He bit his tongue.

And said nothing.

It was none of his business after all.

"You're in a good mood today John." She noted, nodding at John, as she scribbled on the sheets in childish wobbly handwriting. John coughed and smirked to himself.

"Had a good coffee." He shrugged. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Shut up Sherlock."

"Did you know morning sex has been statistically proven to be a cause of weight gain?" Molly giggled. John choked on air and muttered something about crap-TV. She glanced up from the papers.

"No new cases then."

"How did you know?"

"Well," She grinned. "Sherlock doesn't usually learn embarrassing facts for no reason." John nodded, his entire face flushed like a tomato. Moly laughed and shook her head.

"You've stopped seeing Carl Molly." Sherlock said. Molly dropped the pen. The echo it hitting the table was louder than bomb fire. She froze. Hands shivered, smile dropped. Sherlock tapped his foot. John nudged her.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh. Uhm. Yes. Of course I'm fine!"

"Sherlock. Shut up next time you shove your nose into other people's business."

"Oh no no. It's fine really. He didn't want… um… Well, we just didn't fit well."

"Oh. I'm sad to hear that."

"What? Why would you be sad? She didn't break up with you?"

"Never mind Sherlock."

Molly laughed. She'd been doing that a lot John noticed.

"Mary's right. You two should've got married." Sherlock scoffed. John glared. A moment of dragging silence screamed through the room before the detective's phone rang. And again. And again.

"You going to get that?" He didn't answer. John huffed and grabbed the mobile, flicking it on and bringing it to his ear.

"Hello? Sherlock?" The voice filtered through.

"Hello Greg, and no it's just John. You have a case for us?"

"Uhm. Of sorts. John you might want to sit down."

Sherlock's head flicked up, as did Molly's. The voice from the phone smothered the room in cold sweat.

"What? Why? What's happened?"

"John, please sit down."

John fell onto a stool, eyes flickering around the room like the answer was hidden in a corner somewhere. Water flooded his limbs.

"What is it? Is Mary okay?"

"Mary's fine. It's… It's Mrs Hudson…"

"She's in a coma."

"SHUT UP. YOU WILL DO EXACTLY AS I SAY WON'T YOU." Her head hurt. Drums rattled in her ears, deafening her, hurting her. Always hurting her. Limbs flopped like liquid. Time dragged forwards like chalk on a blackboard. Agony. Pain.

Emptiness.

She could see him. Him. And then the monster. And then just him again. The fluffy hair, the round puppy eyes, the lazy frayed hoodie. And then a shark. A monster with a dagger grin, with a plastic smile, with crimson dribbling from his mouth. A hand hit her face. Mud smothered her lungs, her heart.

"Look at me my kitten. Look at me." A hand moved her head up, something wet dribbled down her face. Tears? Surely not. She was beyond crying now. She wondered if she even knew how to anymore. How to feel anything. Maybe she'd disappeared completely. Maybe she'd never existed to begin with. Maybe the tumour had swallowed her. Maybe the tumour is her, and she is the tumour. His voice was quiet. It burnt. It smoldered.

"Good girl."

She remembered something. Words from a book. Or a film. Or somewhere. A thick fog clouded her mind.

"He hurt you remember kitten? Broke you right in two. Don't you want you're revenge? I can give you you're revenge darling. I love you. I want to help you."

The fog shifted slightly. Ah, she knew the words know.

"Together,"

The world is a wicked place.

"We. Will. Burn. Him."

And there are some very wicked people in it.

"Do her family know?"

"Yes. We told her sister and managed to get hold of her nephew. They're coming down tomorrow."

John nodded, rubbing his crinkled forehead. Sherlock sat by the bedside, just waiting. Watching.

"Is there no evidence at Baker Street?" The doctor asked. Lestrade shook his head.

"Nothing from what we can see." They glanced at Sherlock. Waiting for a rude comment. The silence deafened them.

"I'm sorry." Lestrade said.

I'm sorry. What a ridiculous thing to say. Human beings are so dependent on meaningless condolences. We fall onto them, let them tangle us in webs, and then shatter when they tear, and fall again. Only to find ourselves trapped in another web. And so the cycle continues. Until we learn to pull out alone.

"I should go."

"So should I. Mary is waiting." They looked at each other. At Sherlock.

"Will erm… You be okay Sherlock?" He said nothing. John reached for his shoulder. Sherlock lurched away. An emotion John couldn't place flicked over his face.

"I'm fine." He hissed. The emptiness in Johns gut swirled slightly. He nodded stiffly and walked out. Lestrade stayed for a second like he wanted to say something, but what he wanted to say, wouldn't go into words, and what he could say was utterly useless to a being as clever as Sherlock Holmes. So he left. Closing the door silently.

The detective closed his eyes.

And placed John,

And Lestrade,

And Mrs Hudson

Into a box.

Which he hid under tangles and layers of facts, statistics. Until he couldn't find the energy in him to find the emotion he felt, and emptiness flooded his mind.

A case.

Nothing more.

So he watched Mrs Hudson with mild interest, and left.

Not looking back.

So, did ya like it?

(Sorry it took forever for me to update. My brain won't work properly. Or at all really.)

Please review? Pretty please with a cherry on top? J