edit posted 2/3/2018
Part Eight
Molly had come to expect there to be questions about her whereabouts in the last couple days. In fact she had hoped to possibly avoid them even a little bit from all of the people who were not Sherlock Holmes. She could never expect him to just forget the fact that she had trailed on into his home while he was in the middle of an engagement with someone (she didn't really know at all not that she was really concerned about that part of the equation) but, covered in blood and dirt and only god knows what else she had tracked into that house. The part of her that had just been grateful to find herself in the living quarters that she had come to accept as her own during her time here with the Hudsons and Sherlock as well, had almost wanted to grab a bucket and scrub all of the surfaces that she had probably ruined with her mess but the other part of her simply hadn't cared at the time.
Now that she had been left for an entire day on her own with tiny moments of doting from Martha who wanted to be sure that she was truly alright. She even brought her food into her room even though it was common for her to go into the kitchen area and eat with the rest of them at the table. Since she had returned she had begun to slink into her space and stay there trying to ignore what would greet her on the other side of the door or really what would greet her when she went upstairs and would be faced with many different obstacles in the form of other people who actually resided in this estate who probably found her scene to be intrusive and vile.
Again, for the moment she did not care but tomorrow when she wasn't huddled over with the lamp being her only source of light writing a few papers for the classes that she had went to – and the ones she had to miss because of the situation she had found herself in, she would return to her smiling ways and give answers to the ones she could muster up the courage to confide in. She owed them something. She had made them worry, hadn't she?
It had been a long time since anyone had longed to worry about her.
That wasn't entirely true. Her father was the only one she could say still cared about her. Only it seemed she had been wrong when it came to him being the only one. The way Sherlock had looked at her last night had given her more than enough ammunition to back up the claim that he was another and Martha, Maximus and Lilith too. They had all greeted her with cries of joy at her reappearance and though she had been relatively quiet during their short moments before she fled to her room for solace. She appreciated it more than she said.
She joined the Hudsons the day after her one day of silence for breakfast as if nothing had changed. The only proof that it had was the bandages that covered her wounds and the hesitancy in her gait as she stepped into the room. They stopped what they were doing and looked upon on her. Martha beamed at her, as she always did and Lilith moved towards her, taking her hand and pulling her towards the table so that they could eat.
No one said anything about her state though. They just bantered as they usually did and rushed to finish before the children set off to finish getting dressed and setting off for the car where Michael would take them to school. Martha stayed with Molly as she ate the toast and jam, and the extra eggs that had been piled onto her plate once she had finished over half of them within minutes of sitting down.
She vaguely remembered telling Max and Lilith to have fun at school but other than that her quiet demeanor stayed that way. Up until the moment when Martha began to clean up the kid's plates and the dishes they had used. The warmness of the older woman's voice struck a chord in Molly's heart as she continued to eat the meal that was set before her. "You look better than you were when you came back. I think you might have worried us more initially but you look okay. Do you feel okay, dear? I know you are probably tired of hearing me ask but I do care about you. Sherlock would join me and the kids when we went to look for you for those days when he could. When he wasn't held back due to these occasions when he was expected to be the in the company of Carroll. You never asked about her – even when she was in the dining room the first time you were expected to work the dinner for the family. She is a peculiar young woman.
This is beside the point. He has abhorred every second that he has had to spend with her, because it meant he couldn't find you and then suddenly you were back and you were in less than pristine shape I think it did something to him. You're important to him."
"Why…" Molly started, placing her fork down on the napkin that sat adjacent to her plate. She sat there as Martha ran the water for the dishes, staring at her hands. "Why does he care so much about me? He doesn't know me. None of you do." She stopped for a moment.
Martha watched her from her position by the counter. There was something about the way the young girl seemed to fall apart in front of her that made the older woman feel like it was okay that she told her what she honestly felt about her as a person. She had been nothing but hardworking and kind to her in the weeks that she had been living with her. It was time that someone showed her how much she truly mattered. She mattered a whole lot.
She had heard it in her children's voices as they wondered softly if she would ever come back. Hoping that they would get to spend more time with the med student who had caught the eye of their in some ways older brother – Sherlock. She had never once told them a lie about the fate of Molly, for she didn't know what to make of her disappearance herself but now as she watched her try to figure out why people who were seemingly much better off than herself were so appreciative of her presence, why did they care so much about her. It had made the girl weep openly with confusion and anger.
Martha had seen this before with someone else, except this was not the same.
The young boy who she used to take care of was shouting another question. He wasn't asking, "Why do any of you care about me? It's stupid." These were the words Molly was sobbing now as she swayed in her seat and pulled at her hair.
This felt different and that's why Martha put the dish towel down, turning back for a brief moment to turn off the tap before moving across the table to hold the young girl in her arms and whisper soothing words that could only come from someone who had experienced much in life as she had.
"We see something great in you. You're blossoming like a flower in bloom in the spring. You are delicate but strong, like a fox hiding away in a hole during the winter. You are kind, something that we only see in our little cavern in this place and we enjoy every little moment we have to share with you no matter if we have to deal with the less pleasant people who we serve and have served for years now. You don't dim in showing how brightly you can shine and that is why we won't ever stop caring for you Molly. Better things will come your way, you just have to wade out the storm for a little while, trust me dear."
Molly sniffled in her arms but she felt better hearing words of comfort from someone who she was rather fond of. It made her want to smile a little bit.
When she had gain her footing again she patted Martha's hand and whispered, "Thank you."
They stayed still for another few minutes before breaking apart and then Molly wiped her face, and ate the last of her eggs which had gone cold now while Martha went back to the dishes. A small light shines in the room as the two shared the space. It made Molly happier to know that there wasn't a huge strain between her and the woman who she had come to think of as family.
She let out a shaky breath as she handed her the dishes and then went back to her room for a moment to make sure her eyes weren't too swollen or red for her to venture out into the main part of the house where she would be bound to bump into someone and she did though it was not the person she was trying to avoid. It was someone she hadn't really spoken to in a long time.
Michael.
Michael was someone she owed a lot to in all reality. Though a part of her knew that he would downplay it as something that was a part of his own job. The Holmes' had sent him to go speak with her about checking out Sherlock after each of his bouts in the ring. She only had accepted their gracious offer. Things between them were different now.
Michael wasn't over her anymore – nor was he ever really her boss. He had always kept his distance from her unless he felt like sharing something that could aid her in her own work. Things had most definitely changed. They hadn't properly spoken in such a long time. The last proper conversation they had was when he mentioned that her services were no longer needed for Sherlock. Then all of a sudden they were in closer quarters with each other.
Now, they were here standing side by side walking towards the garden behind the house.
"I just wanted to warn you about things that will come soon. I don't know when exactly but all I know is that Sherlock will be unprepared and I believe you will be also. He finds you calming in some retrospects. I think that might have been a reason why he sought for you to come live with him."
"I'm not exactly living with him, though am I?" Molly told him upon hearing what he was truly saying. It wasn't just a warning. She knew what Michael's job was as Sherlock's bodyguard. He had ties to the Holmes that dated way back before Molly even came about as anything. She understood him perfectly.
"No. I suppose not. Nor am I, really. I don't think either of us can pretend to know what goes on in his head but I do know this - he wishes to slip from the path that his parent's wish for him to go along with. I can't say I condone either parts of this – his rebellion or the plans they have for him. I don't know those plans let me tell you that firstly. But, what I do know is that he has his eyes on you for some reason. People are going to come after you, it's obvious that some have already have."
Molly only nodded along to his observation. She trusted Michael but she didn't want to get into this. The morning had already been so awfully draining. She did appreciate what he had decided to do by giving her this talk even if he wasn't being entirely clear some times.
"I appreciate your decision to not shut me out so much anymore, Michael. It relieves me." She hadn't realized it until then but confessing that was something she had fully come to grips with being an issue she was struggling with.
"Good. I need you to understand something though, if they ask you to leave it is in your best interest to take whatever offer they hand you and run."
"Are you speaking from experience, Michael?"
They had stopped walking and had moved on past the garden. They were much further away from the house. Molly didn't think this was a coincidence. She gave him a soft smile as he peered down at her.
One of his large hands went to slide across her shoulder while the other brushed through his hair. He bent his head down and begun talking to her lowly. "Yes. Has Sherlock told you something?"
"Sherlock and I haven't really discussed anything."
"That's not true."
The fact of the matter was that it was the truth. "He came to see me but there wasn't really any discussion about anything important. I wasn't ready to talk to anyone about anything that has happened. Nor do I think I am really. What's the secret you're hiding?"
"Who says I have a secret?" He pulled his head back a little but kept his hold on her shoulder, keeping Molly there beside him.
She just gave him a look and Michael chuckled. "You do have an eye on you. I see now." This confused her more but she didn't ask anything as he continued, whispering conspiratorially to her as they began walking again. "Her name was Madilyn…"
Michael had gotten a call sometime after he told Molly the story of his one true love. He explained to her a lot of things that he never could say to someone like Sherlock and it was with this information that she felt she understood Michael a bit more. They weren't chummy or anything but they had grown a mile in terms of need to know information about each other and their experiences in life. She promised not to tell anyone of his past, not that the Holmes' didn't already know about his. It was just easier to try to appease him.
After he had rushed back to the house having gotten the call about coming back to do something, Molly had ventured back to the garden with many thoughts in her mind. She hadn't been here in quite a while. The last time Sherlock found her crying and had nearly made a fool of her in some ways. She diverted her thoughts from that last time. She had felt something almost warm then, now as she was alone and the day was coming to an end she knew she would need to go back inside and possibly help with the preparations for the dinner even if there were only the family to serve tonight.
She felt someone step into the garden but she didn't turn to see who it was. She had a suspicion but she could have been wrong. Something about this place made it feel okay to admit things and so she was talking before whomever it was could speak.
"I lied." She started. "It wasn't your lady friend who had caused problems with me. Or at least I don't think it was."
Molly sighed, almost wanting to turn around to make sure she hadn't made a mistake. Only for it to become clear that she indeed had as the person begun talking. "Of course, Miss Hooper you are wrong. You are often mistaken in your misguided assumptions about people and things around you. There are other people who are watching you, others who find you to be a problem in not only Sherlock's life though he can't possibly see it. He is blind and so are you."
She stumbled to her feet, turning around quickly just in time to come face to face with a man who she had known for two years ago when he first met her and found her to be uninteresting and out of place. More so now than ever before. He bent down to her eye level as he stood uncomfortably close to her and whispered. "You're the problem and the sooner he realizes that the sooner everything will fall into place."
"For him or for you? I won't pretend to understand your motives behind every little string you seem to be pulling behind the scenes for your brother in order to guide him along the path that you probably had the chance to take for some years' time only to take the coward's way out. Or perhaps I'm just making another assumption that is clearly misguiding by things I couldn't possibly understand. Either way, I will not let you push me into running away from this because this is a wonderful opportunity for me, Mycroft."
"To do what, Miss Hooper? Find love, excel in your pursuits of education or simply feel like you finally belong somewhere? All three I suspect though the first might have never been on your radar, I'm afraid." He smiled.
Molly swallowed. This must be what it feels like to be on the receiving end of the less eloquent observations that Sherlock has done before. When Michael and she were talking earlier, he mentioned that the younger Holmes brother could be cruel but that his older brother could be even more so. She was witnessing that first hand and it would be idiotic of her to lie and say that it didn't make her cringe even a little.
"You can say what you want about me but I honestly don't care."
Mycroft opened his mouth to say something, his eyes zoning in on the slight tremble in Molly's voice as she spoke to him, and the watery rim that had begun to surface in her eyes when the other brother's voice broke through. She couldn't exactly pinpoint from where exactly. All she knew was there was a small moment of relief that washed through her. She did not take her eyes off the man who was standing in front of her though.
"It is best not to lie to Mycroft. He tends to already know how you really feel and what you really mean before you do. Also, he jumps on unsuspecting people all the time. A friend of mine, can vouch for this. He likes to scare people. He thinks he's being a good brother. He knows you're not going to run away even though you're afraid of him."
"I'm not -." She started again when she felt the coolness of Sherlock's palm press against her wrist.
"Yes. You are." He muttered as he settled behind her.
Molly drew in a deep breath, feeling a little dizzy at the close proximity of the both of them. She hadn't realized it yet but Sherlock's fingers were rubbing up and down her wrist in small slow strokes. He was trying to calm her down. He had already seen how distressed she was.
"Back away, brother." Sherlock muttered.
"What would Mummy say if she saw you right now, Sherlock?"
"What would she say to you? You're being less than honorable."
"Do you really want to have this conversation right now?" Molly seemed to gain some composure from the lack of understanding of what this whole thing was turning into. She began talking rather quickly, "Okay, I think I need to go back inside before one of you starts fighting the other and I get hit. I think I've taken enough of those lately. See you inside." She mumbled extracting Sherlock's hand from around her wrist and slipping from the closeness proximity that both of them were giving her. Sherlock was kind enough to move back and give her room to move on without any arguments.
He stood there staring at his older brother after Molly had left their sights. "What are you doing back here anyways, Mycroft?"
"I had interests that needed to be addressed head on. Don't worry I will be leaving, I won't even stay for dinner."
"That might upset Mummy."
"She doesn't even know I've stopped by."
"She will shortly."
Sherlock left Mycroft standing there, he smirked at the idea of the deep frown on his brother's face as he tried to catch Molly before she went to change for dinner.
He was elated to find that she had waited for him just before entering the lower chambers where the Hudsons were busy getting things ready. Maximus was tying his tie while Lilith was sitting watching him amused before spotting Sherlock moving to talk with Molly.
"Thanks." Was the first thing that Molly told him when she felt his presence beside her. She was helping Mrs. Hudson plate the remaining of the dishes.
Sherlock stayed quiet just observing the two of them working together. It was fluid and nearly homey. It looked nice…that was the first word he could think. Perhaps, not the first but the most adequate one for the occasion. "Don't just stand there, Sherlock. If you have something to say to Molly just say it. If not then head up to prepare yourself."
He had nearly forgotten how intense Martha got when she trying to get things ready for the dinner. "Right. We can talk later, Molly." He called over his shoulder as he straightened up and rushed up the steps.
Molly giggled at Martha who only shook her head at Sherlock's antics. "You would think he has never had to talk to a girl before."
"You mean I'm not the first?" Molly was joking and that made everyone break out into giggles that stopped soon when Michael came down in a nice dress shirt and bounded over to Molly with a frown.
Any of the easiness that had settled earlier in the day seemed to have disappeared from him as he pulled her out of earshot.
"What's going on now?" Molly sounded annoyed and she felt it was okay to be. She had finally had a moment of near giddiness and now it seemed it was being doused out for something more pressing.
"You have a visitor in the foyer."
"Who? Who could be coming to see me?"
"Your mother. She said it's urgent. There is something going on at the hospital."
Molly didn't really need to hear any more of it for she rushed up the stairs and ignored any of the looks that were sent her way as she headed to speak with her mother. The only thing that was running through her mind was of her father.
Was he okay?