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.

She sat in the room for two hours waiting, trying to decide what to say to him when he came through the door. A mean grin curled onto her lips. She tucked all her things away as if she had left, then folded a blank piece of paper and placed it on the bed.

She took off her clothes, and stood there without a stitch, waiting for him to return. She heard him, just outside the door. She stepped as far into the corner as she could. He would pick up the paper, see it was blank, turn in confusion and find her posing seductively.

She began to worry he lost his key. "Please don't let him get the manager," she whispered.

Finally the key slipped in the lock, and then she hears sound of the door opening. He stood there for so long she was tempted to peek round the corner. He sighed and tossed the key on the table. She heard the door close softly and then he stepped into the WC and there was no sound at all.

She waited. She changes poses, because her arm is tired and whatever he's doing, this is not exactly working out as she'd planned. She assumed that all that walking had hastened his bowels, which she didn't want to interrupt, but then she started to be worried. This was taking too long. It was supposed to be three seconds of let down and a happy surprise, not fifteen minutes of silence while he cracked to pieces.

Molly takes a step around the corner, but the door is partially closed and the light is off. Her stomach flutters with dread. Her mind catalogues all the quiet ways to die and why else would he be sitting in the dark, but to asphyxiate, bleed, or slip into some drugged coma. She pushes the door open and flicks on the lights.

"Jesus." He yells.

"No. Were you expecting him? Why are you in the bathtub, in the dark, with your clothes on?" Molly asks taking tiny steps toward him, in terror he is up to something she's not going to like.

He lays back and lets out a sigh of relief and then starts to chuckle. "As soon as you explain, everything gone, note on the bed and naked in my loo, I will explain the tub bit."

Molly sits on the edge, giving him the once over before speaking. "I am in your loo starkers because you did not read your note."

"What's it say?"

"It doesn't say anything."

"Then how do I read it?"

"You don't. But you didn't look at it."

"If it's blank why should I look at it?"

"Because, then you would have turned and seen me and I would have whispered 'surprised' and then you would be pouncing on me and I would not have been standing out there looking and feeling stupid that you're floating a loaf in here or something, wasn't a very good romantic surprise, then I peek and see the light is off and my heart falls with all the things going through my head and I can't even breath—"

He pulls her into the tub on top of him and says, "You're breathing now, but only out. Two deep breaths and then, I am kissing you."

He kissed her several more times before revealing that he used to sleep in the bathtub when he was sick because the cool porcelain on the back of his neck felt good and would settle his stomach and sooth his head. In the army, he often had to sleep rough and he always picked a cast iron tub over a floor or even a bed because stray bullets didn't tend to go through them. He had prepared himself that she would be gone and wasn't very surprised when he saw the evidence. He just wanted a cool dark place to rest for a while.

"I was just dozing off, and you almost gave me a wardrobe malfunction of the brown trouser variety."

"I'm very sorry. This didn't work out quite how I planned. I feel ridiculous." Molly squirms around in discomfort and settles on him in a straddle. She snuggles down and lays her head on his chest.

"Better?"he asks the top of her head. "Good. Ok, this is going to sound unappreciative, and it is not meant to, but you really do need to let me know if I have missed something here. So just tell me the truth and we will deal with it together, but I do have the right to know what I am getting myself into just for the purpose of disclosure."

"That sounds like a very serious subject." She teases.

"Are you clinically insane, Molly Hooper, or perhaps your sense of self-preservation atrophied at some point? Because I am without any understanding of how the conversation out there leads to this place, in which you are comfortable to be here. To put it in perspective, I had a small hope that perhaps you would give me a chance, and you would still be here to talk it all out. The expectation was, you would see that I have some major work to do, and you would ask questions and then we would try to form a game plan about our future." His hands move up and down her spine and his voice is filled with amusement as he continues, "So, help me out a bit and please explain what unfathomable thought process, went from me out there laying out my entire arsenal of reasons for you to get away, while you can, to you are in my bathtub naked."

"I love you." She says softly.

"Thank you, that is amazing and I love you too. But, if you look at the facts, PTSD, combined with grief, have done quite a number on me. I handed you a realistic and truthful picture of my probably deteriorating mental state. I am in no condition to be worthy of someone like you. The fact is, I am going to require years of therapy and I am not completely confident that I'm stable…or safe to be around. Once I enter treatment, my license will more than likely be pulled, which will plunge me into a rollercoaster, because it will take away the one thing that has always allowed me to have purpose. You took all of that in, and your answer is, this? I am wondering if I am the most damaged person in the room, after all."

Molly sighs, but doesn't move. "You are making me feel as if you are asking me to leave. You told me all of that, to frighten me away, and you think that telling me how close to broken you are will make it all so easy. I think that the only reason you are even thinking of these things is for me. You never wanted help, this whole time and it's just now that you are noticing that you aren't fine. But, if I do leave, you won't do any of it. I don't think you are really meaning to, but you are testing the waters and I can tell you now that that is much more scary. What you will do to yourself, is more than likely use me as proof that it isn't worth doing. I know what you tried to make this. It was a test run. You didn't think I would see it for what it is. But, I do."

"You think you know everything? You think you're Sherlock Holmes, deducing me?"

Molly shakes her head. "Not like him, no. He set details in a big bowl and threw them in the air and made sense of them. I could never do that, but it doesn't mean I don't see things others don't."

"What do you think you see? What if you see wrong? You didn't see Moriarty. When I think about you alone with him. Do you know how much danger you were in? It makes me sick. He could have used you against him just as easily as he did me. It was pure luck you are here at all, you know. But, I am more concerned that you are making the same exact mistake now. What if I can't do this? What if I can't be fixed?"

"You can be."

John scrunches up his face in pain, closes his eyes in frustration, "You don't know that. Don't say you do, because you don't. I would rather be dead then take a chance of hurting you. It hadn't crossed my mind as much, because we have been sort of taking it day to day, but I wanted to tell you I love you and that made me think about futures. I want one, with you…but I don't want it to end up with me going round the twist one day and harming you. Not worth it. This isn't how I planned this trip. But, I gave you all the information to make the right decision and you made the one I want of course, but the wrong one."

Molly sighs, and stands up, extricating herself from the tub. She grabs a robe and slips it on and ties it. "I am not making a mistake, but I don't have any idea how to convince you. You are basically saying that the only possible reason I could care for you is because I'm crazy. You think I have some, thing for emotionally damaged guys, and maybe I do. I mean, Sherlock then Jim and now you. "

John stands and rests his hands on her arms and pulls her close, gently bumping foreheads and looking at her with a relieved kindness. "Yes."

"Then look at what has been happening to both of us since this began. You act like you told me some big secret out there. You didn't. You clarified some things. But, everyone knows you are not stable. Everyone. Did you really think that wasn't obvious? But the part you are missing is that you have come a very long way since then. You are more stable now than you were. It isn't like you got worse being around me. If you want to get rid of me, I won't stop you. Just say it, but before you do, maybe you don't know this, but it has been a two way street here. You make me feel special and desirable and even pretty. You make me feel lucky, just to be around you. You are funny, thoughtful, caring, smart, brave and I know you are good. The best. Don't take my word, he saw it. He loved you. If the smartest person, who loved almost nobody, picked you, why do I have to be crazy to see it too?"

"But, you are basing it on something we will never know. He and I never had a chance to find out any of that."

"Yes. You did. People don't do that for people who they don't love more than themselves. It doesn't have to be said out loud to be true, and saying it out loud doesn't make it true. I have always been stubborn and you won't scare me away. But all you ever have to do is ask, and I'll go."

"So, I guess you're staying then?"

"Glad we got that sorted." She says flippantly and then giggles.