Chapter 4

The tall man came closer to Sam's hospital bed. He had the most intent stare and Sam could see his blue eyes darting back and forth as if he were in REM sleep. His hands remained steepled below his chin. He began.

"Now, you have been in hospital for two days." It was not a question and he continued on without a pause. "During which this time you have received five visitors. One, your boss at Jiffy Lube. Two and three, Cassie and Jeff something-they found you at the scene of the accident. Four, Aspen Summers, lovely name, don't you think, but you already know that."

Sam startled when he heard Aspen's name and the tall man paused and tilted his head to the side as if he was cataloging the fact then continued on as quickly as before.

"Your fifth visitor was a man that the nurses claim was your cousin. But you have no cousins, and you certainly do not have one from London. He gave the name of Smith, which is so lazy of him, but he must be off his game in the states. I, on the other hand, revealed my true name and the flash of a badge led me, without question, into your room. I am Sherlock, by the way, consulting detective for Scotland Yard, but you do not much care for that, do you?"

Sam's eyebrows raised a full inch. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse, "Uhhh."

"Oh right, sorry about that," Sherlock said as he snatched up the water cup on the bedside roll away table and held the straw close to Sam's mouth. Sam took a small sip then began coughing. After his fit ended, he motioned for more and this time drank without difficulty. The cool liquid felt soothing, and his mind began to uncloud slightly.

"Sherlock Holmes?" Sam questioned with a confused look on his face.

"Yes," Sherlock replied slightly irritated.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Sam whispered, also irritated.

"I assure you it is not, and I must know your connection to your supposed cousin," he answered with little emotion. "The fate of the known world may depend on this information."

Sam just stared blankly at the tall man claiming to be Sherlock Holmes and wondered if he was in some delusional state. It was very possible the accident caused brain damage, but this was all too real to be a dream or hallucination. And why in hell would he be hallucinating Sherlock Holmes. He was in no way obsessed with this fictional character as Aspen was. Wait, did Sherlock say that Aspen came to see me?

"I can see you are trying to piece everything together yourself. From your charts, you may have not even been conscious when Smith came to see you, but I have to ask you a terribly important question. Do you remember him mentioning Molly?" Sherlock's cool composure began to erode slightly at the utterance of the last name. He waited, searching Sam's face for any indication of knowing the name. There was none.

"Molly?" was all Sam could utter.

The flat was unusually quiet. Sherlock could not hear any indication of Molly Hooper bustling about as she had for the past two days. Perhaps she had gone to work he surmised. His fever had broken and the pain was somewhat bearable, but he still had a deep yearning for the morphine that Molly had suggested, and not for the pain. He was resolute that he would not venture down that path. After the Magnussen case and his foray into the drug world as well as the ample morphine he received after the shooting from Mary, he knew it was not a choice he should ever make lightly.

The past year had certainly revealed more of his humanity than he ever wanted. It had been a year of letting emotions through a crack as he witnessed the ones who loved him both in torment and pleasure. He let himself feel, yes feel, a fraction of it all. The rest he play-acted. It would not do to become so out of character that no one would believe you had changed. Instead, he had made a measured decision to give everyone a sampling of what life could be like with a sociopath who was perhaps slightly kinder and more thoughtful, but not too much at once. This was most true for Molly. After she had slapped him, he did not want to make the hurtful comment about her canceled engagement and her lack of a ring. Instead, he wanted to grab her wrist, pull her to him quickly and kiss her fiercely. For now, he needed to give her just enough to keep her holding on. It would not do to let the floodgates opened just yet. There were cases to solve and mad men to stop. That had to be his focus right now.

The door to the flat closed with a thud. An immediate aroma of Chinese take away drifted into the bedroom and caused Sherlock's mouth to water significantly. Hunger was another thing he let take a slight hold in his life. Days without eating was actually absurd, and he knew this habit did not lend itself to health and vigor of which he needed more and more as the years took a toll on his body. He shuffled out of bed and met Molly in the kitchen as she unpacked glossy containers of Curry something, Moo Shu something and a large Styrofoam of Wonton soup. His sense of smell was never more keen. He gave Molly a broad smile that translated that she had done well. She giggled and motioned for him to sit down as she proceeded to ladle the steaming soup into a small bowl for him. They ate in silence, and it was not the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Author's note: My first attempt at a Sherlock deduction/monologue. It was way more difficult than I had imagined. My hats off to Gatiss and Moffat for brilliant writing. I definitely need to do a lot more reading and research to be able to pull this off without seeming ridiculous. Three intertwining story lines is also a bit tricky, and I hope I am not confusing anyone at this point. Let me know if you are baffled. Of course, I am going for the element of surprise and trying to keep you wondering how this will all turn out (as I eluded to in my prologue, not so subtly I might add, ha). I can see that I am getting a lot of traffic, but a comment or two would be nice. I must remember to add more comments to the stories I read myself. Thank you all again for reading! I am having great fun writing this, and it is good practice for my novelette this summer.