edit posted 2/3/2018
Part Seven
Worrying was something that Sherlock felt wasn't necessary even when things looked dire. It wasn't exactly that currently. However, circumstances were something he was concerned about. Ever since the unfortunate night when he found her in the garden there had started to be little things that he picked up on that made it clear of what Molly might have trying to do. She was trying to take steps away from him. It wasn't obvious but there were times when he was enjoying her company in the library or out back where there were minimal people milling around that she came up with excuses to disappear from his view.
It wasn't just that either. Some days she didn't come back to the house. He had expressed his thoughts to Mrs. Hudson one night when Maximus and Lilith had gone to bed and she was the only one awake. More than likely she was also waiting to see if there would be any show of the woman who she had come to know in a very close setting. Working together to upkeep parts of the house that the other maids didn't get to, cooking and all of that. She told him not to worry and though he denied such claims it made him feel uneasy not knowing whether or not Molly was going to keep away from the house. From him ultimately. There were no reasons for this and it was beginning to frustrate him more than concern him.
He had done his best since her arrival to accommodate her in any way that he could to smooth the transitions. Albeit, the new revelations of having to balance working inside the house and her coursework could be a part of it as well. He didn't know exactly what it could be but he planned to have a calm discussion with her about it. As calm as he could seeing as she was a rather emotional person. Circumstances again taking a part in that. Both here where several members of the household had aversions to her presence and the matters dealing with her own family.
He should have thought of that sooner.
Perhaps, she had merely been wanting to spend more time with her ill father, and her brother and mother since they were recovering at a much slower pace than was anticipated by the doctors. He hadn't been back to the hospital since the last time when he had taken her there after the accident. Although, it wasn't in the realm of impossibility that she would want to go alone.
How did she get there? That was something he wasn't sure of.
He had been pacing for the better part of the morning when Michael came in and informed him of a guest waiting for him downstairs. Reminding him to dress. He was still in his silk dressing gown and lounge wear. He had an inkling of who it might have been. With less appearances of Molly there had also been a prominent fixture of another woman in his home; his life.
He let out a frustrated sigh, not wanting to be anywhere near that woman but knowing that there would be more hell to pay from his mother if he didn't at least attempt to appease Carroll for the time being. Besides he could hear his mother's words in his head, "She's come all this way. The least you could do is chat her up for a little while. You're not busy. Pacing in your room and moping is not productive; conversing is Sherlock. Now, go to her now."
He ran a hand through his hair roughly as he flung his gown to the floor and pulled out another dress shirt and a pair of trousers to change into. This was all so tedious and irritating. Why couldn't they see that he wanted no part of their plans? They couldn't just force him into any of this. He needed to make his own way in the world. He couldn't be like Mycroft. Albeit his brother never latched onto the role that was required of him. It fell onto him and that was more reason for him to not be sorry for lashing out at him in the office that day.
After dressing, he glanced at himself in the mirror before making his way down to entertain the woman who was supposed to edge him in the right direction. A direction he did not want.
Running away was not an answer, currently no matter how many times he had thought about it.
This occurred for three days straight with no sign of Molly. He had little time to even try to contact the hospital to find out if she had been there the whole time or go to the college to see for himself if she had even been there for her classes on Friday, or the lab which had been open only on Saturday for a small window of time.
It became more apparent that Mrs. Hudson had even squashed the presence of downplay on her lack thereof worry for the woman. She had even taken a cab with Maximus to look by the dirt that had collected around the hems of her skirts and the young boy's shoes. Muddy as they were, it was clear they had looked in most places for Molly. Coming up with nothing at all.
It nearly confirmed his suspicions that she had ventured somewhere that was uncommon to any of them. Possibly uncommon for herself as well. For what exactly? All these questions kept circling around his mind with no answers.
He kept all of it inside as he found himself in the company of Carroll once again. It had been an almost full week of this and he didn't think he could handle much more of her company. One night was enough, but six and a half nights straight having to converse and pretended that he cared about anything that was going on in her life or that of her friends was something he couldn't tolerate for much longer. It was pleasing his mother very much, and though he abhorred it entirely there was a part of him that wanted to stay in her good graces. After the blowup with his family in the office there had been little nice words left to say on the matters that he cared about dearly.
He was getting ready to lead the woman out of the house after she finished the story she was retelling him of something amusing that happened earlier in the day with a happy expression on her face as she touched his arm which she had slipped into his grasp under his watchful gaze. He found it was easier to try to seem okay with her actions rather than to lash out at her with sarcasm and annoyance. He had attempted that on the first two occasions when she first started coming around only to realize that it did little good for this case. Carroll would either frown at him or seem to find something in it that upset her and he had to change tactics to something of a more amicable sort.
Now, he stood with her in the entrance taking glances at the door every so often while also trying to appear that he was actually paying attention to what she was saying. If only to appease the man in the suit a few paces behind them watching them as if waiting for Sherlock to say something rude again which was something that happened often when he was in her company. On the third day he was so annoyed that he just said anything that came to his mind which led her to the wash room, and then a good talk to from his father who had come down after a call was made by the man who had been looming around him for quite some time ever since the visits between Carroll started. He had been forced to apologize and then play her a piece on his violin which was something he held with much higher care than he did for any of the things that were going on right now.
As he suspected her tale coming to a quick close, the door suddenly open and in stumbled a wary looking Molly. He had to stop himself from extracting himself from Carroll to assess her. People were watching him. There was another man standing on the stairs, one in the next room and one behind the plant near the door.
Molly faltered a moment, he realized she had noticed at least two of them as well. Looking up at him briefly. Licking her lips which he noticed was split open among other very startling things about her appearance. One of which was the state of her clothes. It looked like she had stumbled into muck or had a tussle in the dirt. Regardless, she held his gaze for a moment before nodding and muttering "Evening", and walking past them and down the stairs that led her to her homestead.
He tried for those few moments that he held her gaze to try to find any clue as to what was going through her head or maybe what had happened to result in her looking like that. It was clear she got hurt somehow. Whether another person was involved he really wouldn't know until he could go talk to her. He and his companion were quiet for a few brief moment. He felt unease while there seemed to be some questions lingering on Carroll's part. She said nothing but watched him carefully as he continued staring at the door as if it held all the answers to what he was seeking.
He waited a beat, as he could clearly hear Mrs. Hudson's shouts of bewilderment mixed in with glee at the sight of the woman. He quickly veered his attention back to his special guest, as Michael had come to calling her. Sherlock had a feeling Michael could read his lack of enthusiasm when it came to Carroll and took it upon himself to not make him want to punch him in the face by making any smart remarks about their acquaintanceship. Not that he would exactly go for violence with him, Michael knew more fighting styles than he did and that wouldn't solve anything. However, it wouldn't stop him for going for his throat if he felt pissed enough. It had never came to that and he hoped it never would. He actually liked him. He had been with him for most of his upbringing.
"It was a pleasant night with you, Carroll. Thank you." He was quite stiff in saying all of that as he led her towards the door. He knew she was going to try to ask that they do something else in the future however, he evaded that by saying "I have to go out of town for a few days but I will be in touch when I make my return. I hope you sleep well tonight." He smiled at her as kindly as he could.
Carroll beamed at him, there was slight confusion in her eyes too but it dispersed once he calmly led her down the steps and into the car that would take her back to her home that was a few blocks away. He was trying to get rid of her but also attempting to erase any ill feels she might have had at the change of his demeanor at the entrance of the servant girl as she had termed her a few times while in his company. It was during those discussions that he had to remind himself that there was a reason he had to put up with this. There were also several reasons why he lied to her just then about going out of town. He needed time away from her, and Molly had returned. He had more pressing matters (to him) to concern himself with.
He waved to her as she left, a smile on his face. It slowly slipped from it's place as he turned only to have Michael standing at the door with his arms folded and a knowing look on his face.
"Sherlock, you know your mother will have words about that."
"Well then don't tell her. It's rather simple Michael. Besides you're also curious about the whereabouts of Molly."
"That may be Holmes but I won't be the one who has to try to pry it from her. I've seen enough of women to know when one will guard themselves from any more harm and that is what you're planning to spending the rest of your night and the days you're supposed to be out of town concerning yourself with. I care about Molly as much as you do…maybe a little less but you're about to do something rather stupid when it comes to the road your parents want to direct you on."
"You know that in itself is wrong. I don't need direction on how to live my life, Michael." He huffed, before glancing back up to the man who he had known since he was a boy. He was for all intents and purposes his bodyguard and messenger for all things. At times he also served as a shoulder to cry on, or at least he did when Sherlock knew less about concealing himself from emotions and more on immersing himself in them when he was a child. "I just want something different than what they think is best for me. Carroll is not a part of it. She's bleak and frilly, she won't fit with me."
"Don't you mean you won't let her?"
"No, I mean she isn't equipped for me. You've seen what I've moved her to do, she wouldn't last even if I wanted her to."
"Because you find Molly Hooper interesting."
"No…" He growled, his hands fisting in his hair shortly.
"It's true, Sherlock."
"What if it is? Is there something wrong with that?"
"Not in the slightest. There is a difference between wanting what is good for you and what your heart desires. Desires have a damaging effect."
"Talking from experience there, Michael." Sherlock smirked.
"Sherlock…" He gritted out, he was playing a game he didn't want to start.
"I know who you are Michael and what you had to give up. Don't make me do the same. I'm not saying that it's anything concrete but I don't need you pushing me into something you know isn't going to end well. I'll be unhappy and even if satisfies my parents, I won't like it. I already don't like it."
"You think Molly is the answer."
"I never said it."
"Your actions imply it. Be careful, Sherlock." It was the last thing he said to Sherlock before pushing him inside and pretending to not see how determined the boy got when he rushed down the stairwell that led to where he would find Molly Hooper once again.
It was a bit of a struggle for him to not do anything when he absolutely wished to do a few things, most of them centered around either leaving her bedroom to track down who he needed to hit again and again with his fists for hurting Molly while the other was slightly more distressing to him – he wanted to walk over to her, grab her by the face and find a way to make sure she was fine because she wasn't saying anything to him.
In fact she had rushed passed him when she finally showed up after her disappearing act. This was where he found her trying to fix the problem. He had half a mind to just leave it but he couldn't. It was just like the time he stood watching her late one night after he uncovered her new status. He didn't understand why he couldn't just back track and walk away.
She was doing something to him and he didn't entirely mind. It didn't mean he wasn't conflicted entirely. He just wasn't sure what to do, and then he did know.
He walked from the doorway and over to the bed where she sat in a pair of pajama pants, a white tank top that had seen better days. She looked almost normal in his eyes if it wasn't for the blank expression on her face that has been lingering ever since she stumbled into the house. He loomed over her as he took in the injuries that were easier to see. She had her first aid kit down from the top of her closet but did nothing in terms of cleaning herself up from lines of marking that marred her face. He got the indication that she was getting ready to when he came into the room.
She just stopped for some reason.
"Molly." He called her name. Her eyes flicked to focus on his face, tilting her head back a bit. Her hair had gone from the not completely altogether plait it had been when he saw her moments ago to a pile of pins on top of her head into a slight constructed bun. "Where have you been?"
Her eyes closed as she focused back on her hands. She didn't say anything to him as she fiddled with them. He sighed, deciding to help her a bit with the messy state of her being.
He reached into the kit and grabbed a few cloths with alcohol on them and antiseptic to add to one of the dry rags once he cleaned off the bits that looked rougher on her. He almost commented on the fact that this was her job, not his but he wanted to do this.
She made no comments as he grabbed her face under chin, gripping slightly in order to keep her still as he pressed the cool pad of alcohol drenched cloth on the side of her jaw first where there was a medium sized cut. She didn't budge as he cleansed and moved down to her mouth. It was as he went to press it against her busted lip did she make of noise of agony and protest.
Her hands reached up to grip his hand and move it away; stopping him but he persisted on, and wiped at it even when her eyes welled up. He was quick about it and placed a bit of soothing cream on her mouth where it was the worst. She had opened her eyes at some point and watched him as he fiddled with the items inside her kit, fishing for things that he couldn't find or wasn't sure where they were located.
In the end she looked slightly more like herself even with the lines that covered her face and the bruises that formed on her lips. "Tell me what happened, Molly. You were gone for days without a word to anyone. Then you come back looking like you fell into someone's fist a couple of times. How am I supposed to do anything if you insist on staying silent about everything?"
"I never said I wanted anything from you…Sherlock." She told him, pulling herself up off the bed. It was then that he realized that she might have been more harmed than he originally saw. He went to reach for her when she walked under his arm and over to her mirror to sit down. She looked at her reflection for a moment before eyeing her things on the table. "I had to get away for a little bit because of things that didn't involve you or I guess they did but you shouldn't worry about me."
"And if I choose to?"
"It's fine. I just rather you wouldn't. I'm not worth that."
"If I say you are to me, what then?"
"I'd say you didn't know everything you think you know about me. That would have to be factored into the idea that I am worth it to you, if you truly think so."
He heard her breathe in quietly, eyes raised to look at him through the mirror as he stood behind the chair she was sitting in.
"Then tell me."
"About what?"
"Anything, everything you want to tell me."
"That's the thing…" She paused, turning around slightly so that they were facing each other. "I don't know if I want you to know everything, especially what's happened in the past few days. I think you'd probably find a reason to hate yourself for every little thing that I tell you because it's because of you that it's happened." The tears that had started to well when he was cleaning up her face, came surging forward.
Before he could open his mouth to ask, Molly continued swallowing a large lump in her throat in the process. "It isn't just your family that feel that I am little in comparison to you and all these things that you have. So, I don't think you should try to protect me because though it would be nice, it wouldn't help matters much at all. Wherever I go, people are going to try to take jabs at me because they see something in the space between me and you. It would do you good to remember that next time you decide to have a friend like….never mind." She went to turn back around when Sherlock moved forward.
"Molly." Sherlock started, he grasped her face in his hands as he was once again leaning down to her. "If she had someone hurt you intentionally because you are with me in the house, I need to know so that I can do what I can to make sure you're safe. Call it whatever you like, but I'm protecting you because it's what I want to do and I don't wish to see any more harm come to you."
Molly ignored the sense of security that befell her when his warm hands held her face in that way, swallowing down another sob as she muttered. "Do what you must."