Chapter 9
She had certainly fantasised about seeing him shirtless many times, but his back was not a pretty sight. The bandages were a mess and some of the wounds had reopened.
"I'll do what I can but you need to go back to the hospital for stitches."
"Dull"
"Well you go there to see John anyway. How is he? Any news?"
"No", he answered, his voice suddenly grave.
"I'm sure he will get better. You just need to be patient."
"Patience is boring"
Molly sighted. He was worse than a five year old… "Ok, it's going to sting a little."
He didn't say anything but she heard him hissing him pain.
"Sorry, I haven't done this in a while."
"It's a good thing your usual patients are already immunised."
She decided to ignore his remarks and carried on. She cleaned the injuries, placed a few strips and applied new bandages.
"I think you're good for now. But try to be careful, otherwise it will never heal."
"I'll try…"
"You can't put this back on", she said, pointing at his shirt. "I'll try to find you something to wear".
She went to the bedroom and looked through her wardrobe. She had no idea of what she could give him, but finally found an old t-shirt from uni.
"OK I think this will do. It's really big for me so it should fit you", she said, coming back with the t-shirt in hand. She purposely omitted to mention that she sometimes used it as a nightgown.
She found the living room empty. Did he dare to leave? No, his clothes were still on the sofa.
"Sherlock?" she called hesitantly.
"Do you have anything to eat?"
She joined him in the kitchen and couldn't help but giggle as she saw him desperately searching through the cupboards.
"So?"
"I can heat up some pasta if you want."
"Hm… I suppose it can't be worse than hospital food."
"Lovely. Well put this on", she said, handing him the t-shirt. "I don't mind having a naked man in my kitchen, but you're going to get cold".
This time he didn't answer and obeyed.
He sat at the little table as she started to cook.
"So, you do eat? I thought you were some kind of… manorexic."
To be honest he wasn't as skinny as she had imagined, but she enjoyed being the one teasing him for a change. She wished she could see the look on his face right now.
"I don't eat on a case, that's all. And I don't have any".
"What about… Moriarty?"
"They found some blood at the pool that was neither mine nor John's, so he was obviously injured as well. But he managed to escape before the police arrived. And from then, nothing…"
"Do you think he's going to leave you alone?"
"No… this was only the first act."
They were interrupted by a mewing sound. It was Toby, who had entered the room attracted by the smell. He started rubbing his head against Sherlock's leg.
"Seems like you made a new friend."
"He just wants some food."
"Well, then you two already have a point in common", said Molly, putting down the plate in front of him.
She could swear she saw a smile forming at the corner of his mouth.
She let him eat on his own and settled in front of the telly. She was expecting some unpleasant comments about her cooking, but he actually behaved himself.
She was even more surprised when he joined her on the sofa. Molly had though he would leave at this point… but he didn't seem inclined to go back home. They watched some "House" reruns together. She remembered ironically that a few weeks before, Jim Moriarty was seated at the very same place.
Sherlock was strangely quiet, and she realized that he had dozed off by the middle of the second episode.
She couldn't help watching him for a while and thought he looked like a sleeping Greek god. She wished she could run her hand through his curls but this wasn't allowed for mere mortals. She wondered if she should wake him up. But he probably hadn't slept in days, so it was fair to let him rest. She covered him with a blanket and left a pillow in its case on the table.
Molly went to bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. It had definitely been an interesting evening…
When she woke up, she was not surprised to discover that the bird had flown.