COD (Cause of Death): Unknown
Notes: The setup for this chapter and for the next few probably is a bit different. I'm doing POV switches. No worries, I'll have the character's name above the portions that it starts. It was recommended by one of my close friends (Cat) who also reads this. I hope you all enjoy it.
T h r e e.
Molly
There was so many things I was discovering from this new life that was thrust upon me suddenly. One of the biggest has already been reiterated over and over again. Dead. I'm definitely dead. But the new realization is that I don't dream.
I don't necessarily see this as a bad thing since I'm not sure what I could possibly dream about now. I was just space and nothing and it pained me but there had to be something keeping me here. The fact I was here was something else but there was an attachment.
I'm attached to someone who I've come to admire. That's probably not the word most would use for it but I don't care what they think. I was stuck following him around wherever he went. I found that out last night and now again this morning.
I don't particularly have a problem with it. It's Sherlock Holmes. Any time I can spend with him will make me happy. Even though he's horrible to me. Or he was...
When I awoke he was the first one I saw. He was actually sitting in the chair with his eyes closed and a look of deep concentration on his face. His hands were posed together. It was obvious he was thinking.
I just watched for a moment before John came out of his room fixing the sweater he had slipped on.
John
I have come to expect very little when it came to Sherlock. More than anything in the morning when he is usually in his mind palace as he calls it. The night previously was a bit of a shock. Molly Hooper, the young pathologist who works with us on cases was found dead.
Though this was something that plagued my mind for awhile last night, I was more concerned about my flatemate; Sherlock Holmes. He was acting stranger than usual. I already knew he had different quirks about him. But I think the fact that someone who he knew is involved in this case and dead could have possibly shook him. You never knew with him however.
He kept his thoughts to himself until you completely badgered it out of him. Notice I said thoughts, he doesn't do feelings. It's laughable at times because he shows sparks of humanity at times. It surprises me.
"Grab your coat." He stated as I stood just a few feet from the couch area where he was. He was on his feet without another word and over to the coat rack to grab his coat and scarf and put them on.
"Where are we going?" I called as I ducked back into my room to retrieve my coat. Once I slipped it on I was running down the stairs to where he was waiting.
"Where are we going, Sherlock?" I asked again as he raised his arm out to hail a taxi for us.
He turned his head as if just realizing that I was there. He looked at me briefly before speaking. "To Molly's, I thought that was obvious."
Sherlock did this a lot. He thought I was able to decipher his thoughts as if I was a part of his brain. I wasn't, his brain was too complex for me anyhow.
"Okay." I mumbled as I got into the taxi and then we were off to Molly's flat.
Molly
My flat. They were going to my flat. I didn't really understand why at first. But upon thinking of it more I realized that this was a smart move. Since I wouldn't be much help and didn't know what I was doing during my last hours this was a good thing. Sherlock would be able to find something out.
I hoped.
There was a chance that my killers came back and fixed the mess to make it seem like nothing happened. The criminals out there didn't want to be caught after all.
There seemed to be something stalling Sherlock from going inside my flat however. He stood there observing it when we were dropped off. It was odd.
Sherlock
To the untrained eye there wasn't much on the outside of the flat but keys and an ajar door. But to someone like me there was the beginning of a story. There were many strings to it. Many possibilities that could lead to the truth.
Here's what I saw.
Chipped paint at the sides of the door frame as if someone had clutched on them for dear life. The keys obviously had been dropped. Either due to force or clumsiness. It wasn't clear yet but I had an inkling about it.
I stepped forward leaving the set of keys there and pushed the door open and waited to see if anyone was going to come out before walking inside. I walked to the center of the room and began the rest of my observation.
The place was a mess but through that I saw different thinga that helped me see Molly as she was in her home or at least last night.
She had been in a hurry and the visitor whom ever they were had come in and set down on her couch. It's a hideous floral couch but regardless her visitor was much larger most likely male and most likely not her date. She rushed to the kitchen. The dishes are knocked over at different angles. Which helps justify this statement.
A saucer in tea cup are broken into pieces on the floor at the foot of the couch, the visitor was upset it seems. That or Molly herself dropped them out of spite? It was obvious now that she didn't want this guest to be here. Let alone drinking her tea, she usually would be courteous to guests.
Moving on to the small vanity near the pullout bed. Her different beauty products which by the marks on the cloth usually have some sort of order. That be one of the only things in order it seems. Back to the point, the products are in disarray. There is a smiley face smeared in rosy red lipstick on the mirror. Not very huge but still visible.
I stopped a moment and snapped a photo of it with my phone before continuing to look around.
There wasn't much left to figure out. From the clothes that were everywhere it seemed that she had trouble picking out attire for the night.
"Meow." I stilled for a moment as the feline peeked it's head from behind a door. I just blinked at it as it came in my general direction and meowed again. It rubbed against my legs as it circled me.
"He likes you." John and faintly another I could have sworn I heard spoke. I crouched down and petted the small cat's head carefully. "Toby." I read off his collar.
"What's not to like?" I muttered to John as he came and crouched down next to me and picked up the cat and headed towards the kitchen. I didn't even ask what he was doing. It was clear he was going to feed it. I wasn't going to.
"What should we do with Toby?" John called from the kitchen as I stood back up and dusted myself off.
"Put him down." A rather irritating, irritated voice spoke from the doorway. Sally Donovan, of course. I turned in her direction as she continued to speak. "This is a crimescene."
"Great deduction, Donovan." I stated as I looked and saw Lestrade standing behind her. He looked tired. No sleep clearly.
"We're done here anyhow. C'mon John, bring Toby." I muttered as I slipped by the two who immediately started a heated discussion. It was obvious it was about our intrusion into Molly's flat and how we tampered with evidence. Some other nonsense.
I began to tune them out once John was back around and I began to fill him in as we walked. We could make it back to 221b without a taxi. There weren't many around.
A/N: another chapter for you loves. It's my birthday so I figured I'd give y'all a treat. It was my first attempt and delving into John and Sherlock's mind. Did I do okay? I hope you liked. Let me know what you thought. Until next time. :) -D.