Authors Note: Chapter 6! Yay! This story is getting a lot more followers than I expected, which is wonderful; A big thanks to everyone who continues to follow this! Enjoy!
Molly sat wide awake with her hands behind her head as she stared up the ceiling. Daylight had only started to seep through the bedroom curtains. It was no surprise to her that she went yet another night without so much as 20 minutes of sleep.
It wasn't that she didn't want to sleep; it was that she genuinely couldn't. Not since the one case that had landed her at Baker Street. Not since Sherlock had practically shut her out from any and all information regarding the case.
She wasn't exactly sure why he decided to shut her out. Sometimes she thought it was just the fact that he didn't feel like talking. Others, she wondered if he shut her out because he thought she couldn't handle the truth.
Finally giving into the reality that she wasn't going to get many details for the time being, she stood from the bed, only stopping to pull her knotted hair up into a rat's nest of a bun, and headed for the living room. She stopped at the end of the hallway when she heard slightly hushed voices bickering back and forth.
"You can't just keep shutting her out, Sherlock. She works. She has family; a life outside of this! You need to tell her." She heard John say.
"Tell her what? 'Yes, sorry, Molly. There are several members of the secret assassin group I've been targeting planning an attack on you.'" Sherlock mocked.
Kill her? That explained how he got her some 'vacation time' off of Bart's.
"Tell her the truth, Sherlock! She deserves to know, especially when she's put up with you for the past 3 weeks now, god knows how I've done it!" John argued.
Their voices remained quiet; probably because they thought she'd still be asleep at this hour. Why weren't they?
Molly took a deep breath, and stepped out into the kitchen.
"Molly, hi!" John had cut Sherlock off before whatever he was about to say made it past his lips.
"Um, hi." She said, though it sounded more like a question.
"Alright you two, I'm going to get a shower and I'll be heading out. I've got a job interview later. Don't want to be late." John said.
"What are you hiding from me?" Molly uttered the question before she lost the courage to finally get some answers out of the two.
Sherlock stared at her for a moment before a look of realization crossed his face. "You were listening." He said. Molly looked down at her feet for a moment.
"Just tell me the truth." She said. "How much of the truth do you want to hear?" Sherlock asked.
"All of it. For starters, why are you shutting me out?" she queried.
"Because I didn't think you needed to know." Sherlock answered quickly.
"You don't think I have a right to know when my life is in danger?" She asked angrily. "Molly, listen, I'm going to give you the basic information first. Then Sherlock will have to answer any other questions you have." John began.
The Pathologist nodded, "Alright, let's hear it."
"You were right, for starters. The husbands were all lying, as was Mycroft. We discarded any information given to us by the British government. Sherlock used his homeless network and god knows what else to get the little information he has now. He hasn't told you that there are rumors floating around that whoever is behind this is out to kill all of us, including you. Sherlock pulled some strings with Bart's to get you extra time off so that he can keep an eye on you, which isn't going to work for much longer. Right now he is at a loss for ideas, and I need a shower." John explained, sounding quite a lot like Sherlock at this point.
Molly forced a smile at the army doctor, "Thank you." "You're very welcome." He returned the smile before heading to the bathroom.
The two stood in silence for a while before they heard the water running, and Sherlock finally spoke.
"Do you miss it?" he asked.
Molly gave him a confused sideways glance. "Miss what?" She asked.
"Your old life. A life where you slept regularly and you didn't have to keep looking over your shoulder." He replied.
They locked eyes from across the room. "It's not your fault. You're just trying to help." She said. Was it really that obvious that she hadn't been sleeping?
Sherlock smiled and nodded towards the kitchen. "Tea?" he asked.
"I think coffee would be helpful at this point." She replied with a yawn.
Ten minutes later, the consulting detective returned with her coffee. Molly smiles at him, "Thank you."
He's being strangely pleasant today. She thought.
"How long has it been since you've slept for over 8 hours?" He asked finally.
She shrugged groggily. "I can't remember. And honestly, I don't know how you do it."
Sherlock ignored her comment and started quietly plucking the strings of his violin.
"Alright," the Pathologist began. "I'm going to get dressed, and you're going to elaborate on this case a bit more." She said.
Sherlock stood and moved towards the couch where she sat. "I don't think we'll be doing that quite yet." He took her hand as she stood.
"Sherlock, wh…" she trailed off, suddenly feeling weak in the knees.
She stumbled, and started to fall when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist. "Sher…" she started.
At this point the consulting detective had picked the woman up and held her to his chest. They were moving somewhere, but she couldn't quite make out where.
"What the hell… what are you…" Molly tried to ask, but still couldn't get the words out.
Sherlock carefully set her on his bed, and she felt the covers being pulled over her.
"You need to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." He said softly. Had he seriously just drugged her?
"You're unbelievable…" she said, trying to fight the medicine. "I get that a lot. Believe me when I tell you that this is for the sake of your health. You're sleeping less than I am. I'll explain everything when you wake up." He reassured.
Asshole. She thought.
Sherlock bend over the bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Sleep well, Molly Hooper."
SsSsSs
"She's going to be furious with you when she wakes up." The doctor warned.
"Yes, I am aware, but she hasn't been sleeping, and she can't know what we're about to do."
"You shouldn't have told her that. You shouldn't have told her we would be back when she wakes up. We might not come back." "Don't talk like that." Sherlock warned his friend.
"We're going to go crash the meeting, and we are coming back." Sherlock reassured.
John smiled at the man standing before him. "What are you staring at?" Sherlock snapped.
"You. You really care about her, don't you?" "John, please don't get sentimental. We have work to do." Sherlock warned.
Of course he cared about her. Why else would she be at Baker Street?
"Seriously though. Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper. Seems like a good enough pairing." John teased.
"Shut up, John."
MmMmMm
When Molly woke, it took her a moment to recollect what had happened to her. When she finally figured it out, she was beyond irate. She stood from the bed, ripping the covers from her body, and storming out of the room.
"Oh, good morning, dear. Did you sleep alright?" Mrs. Hudson asked sweetly from the kitchen. "Yes, thank you, where's Sherlock?" she asked.
Though she did feel 110% better after actually sleeping, she was still ready to kill Sherlock for drugging her.
"Oh, Molly. Sit down, dear." Mrs. Hudson looked sympathetic.
Her heart beat picked up. "Mrs. Hudson, what's wrong?" She asked.
"Sherlock and John went out on some completely mad case yesterday." She began.
"Oh god, is he alright?" Molly breathed.
"He's at the hospital. He got shot. I'm not sure of the details. They won't tell me anything." She said, obviously worried.
Molly stood from the kitchen table without another word and darted into the bathroom. She quickly brushed through the tangle of hair she had still in a bun on her head, and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater.
"Where are you going?" Mrs. Hudson called.
"I'm going to St. Bart's. I'll call you when I know what's going on!" she yelled.
SsSsSs
When she arrived at Bart's, she ran straight up to the first person she recognized, a nurse named Mary, who was more like her sister since she started work at Bart's.
"Mary!" the woman called.
"Hi, what are you…" "Listen, I'm sorry, I can't talk. Sherlock Holmes, what room is he in?" she asked frantically.
"Room 207 floor 2, I believe. Are you alright?" Mary called after the woman, who was already running to the elevators.
When Molly finally found the right room, she burst through the door without so much as a single knock. Sherlock stood next to the bed shirtless as he fought to re-position the bandage on his shoulder.
"Molly, what are you doing here?" he asked with an obvious element of surprise in his voice.
She stopped walking after she entered the room, and stared at Sherlock while he spoke.
Molly started walking towards him, "You bastard!" she yelled.
Sherlock stood in silence while Molly made her way towards him. "Molly, I understand you're probably not…" Molly cut him off by slapping him hard across the face. "You are unbelievable. First you drug me, then you go off on some suicide mission, leaving both me and Mrs. Hudson worried sick! How could you do that?" Molly yelled.
"Do what?! Try to protect you with my life? I'm not having this argument again, Molly." He said irritably.
Molly stopped and stared at the consulting detective. "How did you get shot?" She asked.
"If you must know, John and I went with Scotland yard to catch a small number of the assassins." Sherlock explained.
"Oh my god, Sherlock. It really was a suicide mission, wasn't it?" she asked. "No, don't be ridiculous." He said.
John walked through the doors and stared at the two. "Oh, Molly, hi. What are you…?" "Tell me you didn't know about the drugs either." Molly cut him off.
"Only after he gave them to you." John said innocently. "Great, so it's just him I have to be pissed off at."
"Molly, do calm down. You needed the rest weather you're willing to admit it or not." Sherlock said.
"How long did I sleep for?"
Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes, "26 hours at least."
Molly stared at Sherlock, trying to calm her pounding heart. "26 hours?" she seethed.
"Yes. I do apologize, but in my defense, you were safe for once, and you got some well needed rest."
Molly didn't need to hear anymore. She had already slapped him; and she didn't want to say anything she would regret. The pathologist stormed out of the room, and headed for the elevator.
She pressed the button, but the elevator wouldn't come. She pounded away at the keys, coming out extremely unlucky. Sick of waiting for the elevator, the pathologist headed towards the staircase. She pushed through the doors and turned at the feel of a hand around her wrist.
"What the- Sherlock?!" She yelled. "You know, usually when a girl storms off, she wants to be left alone."
"Well usually that girl isn't being followed." Sherlock said quietly.
He had redressed himself, and donned his traditional coat and blue scarf. "What are you talking about?"
Sherlock pushed her towards the first flight of stairs. "You're being followed. Was there anyone following you when you left the flat?" he asked.
"I- I don't know." She stammered. "I was in too much of a hurry to make sure you weren't dying." She added.
"It's alright, just keep walking." He instructed.
When the two made it half way to the bottom of the stairwell, they heard the door swing open, and heavy footsteps follow their trail.
"Go." Sherlock whispered.
He grabbed her wrist once more and led her out the door, and darted through the lobby to the outside of St. Bart's. "Sherlock, where's John?" she asked. "He's meeting us with some of Scotland Yard in a secluded location. It's the man that shot me; I recognize his face." Sherlock explained.
"Molly, listen. This is a very dangerous situation. I need you to stop being angry with me, and trust me." His tone was almost pleading. "Yes, of course. What do you need me to do?" she asked.
Sherlock held his arm out to stop a cab. "Go back to Baker Street. Lock the doors and windows. Wait for us to return." He instructed. "What? No, I'm coming with you." She argued. "No, you won't be safe. Now go, we don't have a lot of time."
"Sherlock, you're not risking your life for me twice in a row while I'm back at the flat playing the damsel in distress. I'm coming." She persuaded.
Sherlock shook his head. "Fine. Come with me, but be very quiet, and stay with me." He ordered.
Molly nodded. She was not about to watch the man she had fallen in love with die for her.
Not this time. Not any time.
Soooo… how'd you like the chapter? I am currently unable to find a name for the assassins group… any ideas? Please tell me what you think! Thanks once again for reading, and have a lovely day/night/morning/evening. :)