Author: Howlynn
Realm: Sherlock
Story Title: A Statue in the Temple of Mendacity.
Summary: Molly counts. She Promised to help him. But, the reality of saving Sherlock ends up leading to places she never expected. Sherlock needs her again, but this time she must save John.

Character/Relationships: John and Molly would never have noticed each other if he were not dead. The thing is, Molly knows he isn't and she never expected things to get this complicated.

I Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

He nods. "Ok. Has to be I suppose. You should know, the truth of it. Rather it not, but, just remember I love you now. I didn't then. Not yet. This could, probably will, change things."

"No, it won't."

"I hope. Anyway." He clears his throat. "Ok. If you and I dated, as friends, maybe he sent you and he was alive. But, I screwed that up, and we were jumping into sex. I had somehow associated that to mean that I really knew he was dead and was refusing to follow, because I was a coward. He did not want to die and he did. I did want to die and kept making excuses. I was drunk and that tends to fuel my, indiscretionary nature, and I was angry with myself. I was losing him, once and for all and it was your fault and I had been a gentleman and that was going to be my last interaction with a human being. There is a thing I do, very hard to explain, but I flipped the switch put it in gear and let it all just fall away."

"You flipped on Mr. Hyde?" Molly asks.

John nods and looks miserable. " I heard the downstairs door open and my heart heard the soft way you walked up the stairs and I was so certain it was Sherlock. I was surfacing. Third step from the top squeaked and he would not have stepped on it. It was you and I hated you for not being him. I could have done anything I wanted to you at that moment and there would have been no consequences, not for me. I sort of gave up and in a terrible way. I just. Let. Go."

"Four choices." Molly says thinking them through again. "But, I didn't pick the one you expected."

"No. You…did not. You picked the least likely. You picked the only one I didn't plan for. The first choice, in my mind was for you to walk away, and I would have let you do that. But, people don't do that in that situation. I knew you wouldn't. It was there, but it didn't count. You doing what I requested was a wild card and it didn't count. I told you that you were in no danger and it was a lie." He says and his breath is beginning to race and deepen.

"You wouldn't have hurt me. I will not believe it. You wouldn't."

He swallows and his Adam's apple bobs several times. He breaths deeply and opens his eyes and turns his head toward her. "I wish that were true. We said no lies between us and if this ends us, then so be it, because we can't move forward if you don't genuinely know who I can be. Who I was, right at that moment."

"It doesn't matter. You don't have to—"

"Yes I do. And you will see why very soon. So trust me on this, how I feel has changed but it doesn't change that I had something in common with Sherlock." John closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his face stops contorting with nerve impulses defining him and he opens his eyes and they are suddenly steady. He looks at her directly and she realizes there is nothing of the John she knows and adores here right now.

"Hello, Mr. Hyde." She whispers and sits up before she realizes that by moving away, she has just told him that she instinctively recognizes he is dangerous.

His voice is different, more like Mycroft's or Sherlock's, but harder and with so little inflection he sounds like he isn't completely alive. " Mine came from years of practice, just like his. He had emotions, Molly. He really did. I don't know what happened to him but he had at some point learned to turn them off. It protected him. But, he got trapped there. He couldn't turn them back on. He wasn't in control, at all. He had lost control. I can do the same thing you see. You recognize it. You cleverly named it. I can shut myself off entirely, not feel anything, I can be exactly empty. I have always been in control of it. It is a tool, nothing more. I wasn't just an army doctor, and perfecting this tool was a life or death necessity. The problem is that it is also seductive. It is easy to get lost here. It is an angry servant who has all the patience of a black vacant cave. There are things in my life that I should feel terrible about doing. I feel nothing. I know about it and I know how I should feel, but I don't. I do not make decisions in this mode because emotions are necessary to judge right from wrong. When you returned, this side was making decisions. There is no right or wrong here. People who get stuck here, do not live socially productive lives. They can't love, or feel guilt, or know emotional pain. It doesn't exist. I have a deeper version than Sherlock did, his cracks were not sealed and I wanted to fix it. The problem for my emotional side is that I did fix it. I didn't know, my timing would be at the worst possible second that it could happen."

"Please, turn it back off."

"I will once this is said. The emotional coward can't do it and is determined to explain something stupid to you. Leave or undress, half the choices. Two others. Physically attack or stay and watch is how it was presented. Those two led to the same area. Attack and you would have been overpowered, thus volunteering for a much more succinct ending to the evening. Stay and watch, and it would have been a game of intimidation and been a much more dubious encounter, but do note that this side of the barrier does not affect physical response, only the means by which they are obtained. The only favorable part, is I would not have killed you. Not much of a virtue there, but it is a line in the sand. That is what changed in the thirty minutes you were gone. An order to terminate life was issued by the emotional side and handed over to the logical side while in a reduced capacity. Emotional side did not have the strength of will to stop it because even the fact he could contemplate the desire to harm you established that there must be an end. The only possibility, to return to control, was the wild card. One, impossiblle abort button, and you pressed it. The emotional side is a coward and didn't want to die so much as end the guilt and pain. An inner battle of wills so dark and terrible and free to carry out the emotional cowards command, by any means necessary. The rudder could not steer a sinking ship. Imagine a drunken bar fight within and emotion was losing. Emotion had curled up like a little cry baby and given up."

Molly shivered and rested her chin on her knees, her arms folded protectively. "John. Please come back. I want to go back to the hotel now, please."

"Don't like me much do you? You shouldn't. This is who you threw a lifeline to." The eyes glittered and looked her up and down and sighed with regret. "It was very nice knowing you, Molly. Very. Nice."

Molly scrunches her eyes closed and rocks herself. She would not cry but she could not look at him any longer. Mycroft had no idea what would be coming for him. But, she was pretty sure it would get her first and it would be horrible.

The waves lap on shore and Molly waits for him to say more horrible things.

The voice that speaks next, is gentle and filled with regret and deep sorrowful fear. "I am so sorry, but it is important to me that you actually see that. You will probably never see it again unless you are in danger. Or there is some overwhelming disaster and my emotions are getting in the way of saving lives. It has always been a tool for me. Nothing more. But, as I was not getting over …him, I …started using it as a crutch, only didn't realize how close I had come to letting it have control. I was honestly not expecting you. I did ask you to stay, and it would not have been like that. I really was fine and I would have been delighted wherever you decided to sleep. I had really had such a good time but then I did, just like it told you, I curled up in a ball and I said enough. The critical voice in my head started up and you had given me a nice evening, no thanks to me, and how long will this last, a week or two dates? Did I really want to wait for the inevitable? I would screw it up. Me. Not Sherlock. Because, any of the times he interrupted my dates…all I had to tell him was, No."

Molly looks up and John is smiling looking up at the sky and a tear leaked from the corner of his eye. She sags into a more relieved posture. "It isn't a full split personality. Not yet. But, it is going there and you are afraid?" Molly asks.

"Sometimes when Sherlock wasn't on guard, his emotions had begun to bubble up unexpectedly. I got so frustrated with him, but I only gave up on him once. I will never forgive myself for it. Not ever. Because I gave up on him and it was the last thing I said to him, face to face. If he had died, in that other frame of mind, just a cool, logical, calculating robot, then maybe I could accept what I did to him. But I opened that damned door and I hurt him so badly that it all flooded out and it may have cost him the whole game. If I had just walked away, just accepted what he said, then he would not have been distracted and he might have found some way to win. I will never get to take it back and it might be something that I won't ever fix."

"It wasn't your fault, John."

"My life was used against him. My own words took away his best weapon in the most crucial battle he ever fought. On the phone with him, I could not get there. My emotions kept control. If I could have just thought clearly, it might have saved him, somehow. I have always relied on my ability to think under any circumstances. I failed. He was terrified. He cried. He didn't want to die. But he was still braver than me. He did it. He stepped off that roof against everything he wanted. I just stood there. Legs of rubber and that logical side of me didn't come. It betrayed me. You did his post-mortem and I know you afforded him every respect. But I wasn't there. I should have been and had every ability to make it happen. He would have done it for me. But it was just gone, it was suddenly faulty and I don't know why."

"You're being too hard on yourself. It will destroy you. None of that is even true except that you were used against him and you had no control of it and it wasn't just you."

John stands abruptly and puts on a wide smile, wipes his eyes, and shakes his head. "Thank you. For saying that. I don't want you to be afraid of me. I'm pretty sure I have this all under control. I know my limits and will never take a chance and surpass them around you again. But, I am a bit of a coward about some things, now, which is new. I always thought I was a good man, and I proved myself wrong there. That is so hard to tell you. I love you. I'm not ashamed of it. I am pretty damned chuffed about it. But, if I should happen to lose my mind, anytime soon, I want you to know. I'm trusting you, as a fellow doctor, to be aware of these symptoms and the fact there are marked personality changes. If we see, or you see, anything that concerns you, I bank on you to walk away. You're all I have, so I can't."

Molly fiddles with the sand and nods as he speaks. "I'm not walking away."

"Yeah, ok. Um. We said honest and, believe me, I have not wanted to tell you any of that business, but had to be done. Now I am going to go walk up the beach here for a bit. Give you some time to think. If we are still together, I will see you back at the room. We will have a nice dinner and we won't talk about this again, unless it's necessary. If you decide, you can't deal with my baggage, just go to the desk and explain you would like a second room. I won't bother you. I'll stay here, out of your hair and take a different train. You can leave me a note, or I'd prefer not, if that's good, because you don't have to explain. And I love you, by the way. Either way."

Molly watched him walk up the beach. He was far out of earshot by the time she spoke. "I'm not leaving, you idiot. I love you more than you'll ever know and I will only walk away when the tall bloody idiot finally decides he's tortured you enough. I don't care how scary you are. You don't scare me, John."