A/N. Sherlolly Appreciation Week fic for 3/18 & : "I'm stressed, you're dying" and for 3/16: "What was today about?"
Warning. Mention of drug use.
The Redemption
It was a sharp and firm knock on the door of the lecture hall to interrupt Professor Robinson's lesson was. All the students held their breath knowing how much the man hated being cut off in the middle of a lesson. Most of them turned their heads towards the door, curious to see who had dared to go so far and ready to witness the ensuing reprimand.
The dark curly head of one of the professor's favourite students peeked in, making the fun of a harsh scolding vanish for many. "Mr Holmes!" the teacher addressed him, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, placing his ass on the edge of the desk and crossing his arms over his chest, "If memory serves me correctly, you have no lesson in this class today".
The young man gave him a broad knowing smile as he opened the door halfway, "No, you're not wrong, professor. I need to talk to Miss Hooper for a few minutes, if you allow me" he replied with that apparently affable way of his. The professor looked down at the girl sitting in the front row whose cheeks, as soon as she heard her name, had turned a bright red colour from the embarrassment of being the cause of the interruption.
She swallowed hard as the corners of her mouth twisted into an uncomfortable smile, "Please, Miss Hooper, go ahead" said the teacher encouraging her with a wave of his hand to get up and join her senior colleague outside the classroom.
The man did not miss the fiery gaze the girl had thrown at the young man who was waiting for her at the door. And he smiled inside himself. He was increasingly convinced that his was a super brilliant idea in pairing those two for the annual chemistry and science project involving classes from different years.
No one could see, not even his distinguished colleagues, the two guys were like yin and yang, sun and moon, night and day…but at the same time they shared multiple common interests. Mr Robinson followed the girl with his eyes as she moved awkwardly between the seats of other students to reach the door and said to himself that yes, Molly Hooper was the right one to save Sherlock Holmes from himself.
"Sherlock! What dawned on you?" she asked as soon as he closed the door without bothering to hide her annoyance, "Oh, don't blame me!" he scoffed at her, "If you had answered my texts, I should not have come looking for you personally". Molly stomped her foot on the floor and shoved her hands into her trousers pockets, puffing like a teapot ready to explode "You know very well that when I'm in class I keep my phone in the locker!".
"Well, obviously you shouldn't!" Sherlock shoot back noticing how cute Molly was when she was angry with that bright light in her eyes and the slight blush that spread from her cheeks down her neck disappearing under her blouse, not to mention her bottom lip between her teeth.
Molly gave him a warning look not to go any further and shaking her head, sighed "Fine, Sherlock. What's so urgent you can't wait for the end of the lesson?". He gave her a charming glance, one he flaunted when he wanted someone to do something for him, and one that Molly was well aware of but couldn't resist giving in.
Fine, let's face it. She had a crush on him. And how could it be otherwise? Sherlock Holmes wasn't just attractive with those indefinitely coloured eyes of his, chiselled cheekbones, dark curly hair – a silent invitation to run your hands through it, by the way – and a slim but fit body. He was smart. Really smart. His bright and vibrant mind was what struck Molly the most.
She could have spent hours working with him in the lab or assisting him when he was busy solving trivial or noteworthy mysteries around campus, setting in motion all of his impressive deductive skills with which he was gifted. Gift which, to Molly's immense regret, he threw away from time to time.
Molly couldn't say why but every now and then Sherlock needed an escape to reality. "To quiet my speeding mind" he had told her one winter morning when she found him in such a heart-breaking condition she couldn't hold back the tears. He was half-lying down on the steps of her dorm, drenched in sweat, shivering and babbling but definitely not from the cold. As soon as she managed to open one of his eyes, she immediately understood what was the cause of his discomfort and had called his brother.
"The results of our latest experiments" his voice stirred her out of her reverie as he pulled a tangle of paper sheets out of an inside pocket of his coat, shoving them into her hands. Molly widened her eyes following Sherlock's gaze moving quickly and briefly down the hall, "They must be reviewed" he said peremptorily, "And transcribed, of course" he concluded, looking back at her and shifting his weight from foot to foot as if he was in a hurry to get away from there.
At first Molly glanced disconsolately at the papers, then took a look over his shoulders noticing the presence, next to the main staircase, of a tall, brunette and curvy girl together with a dark boy, very thin and very pale. She couldn't hold back a derisive snort, "Are you serious, Sherlock?".
He raised his eyebrows questioningly, "You won't come at the lab at 4pm, as scheduled…" disappointment and a hint of concern in her voice made Sherlock suddenly look down into his shoes, "…to wander around with those two?" she let out a deep sigh and then grabbed his coat's sleeve, "You don't need them, Sherlock".
He frowned, annoyed by her words. How the hell did she manage to make him feel guilty every time? Why was she always trying to show him that he was a better person than he thought he was? He was an obnoxious arsehole, who didn't care about anything or anyone and didn't want that to change.
"It's none of your business, Molly, what I do with my life" he spat out, sharper than he intended. Sherlock regretted it the instant she stared straight into his eyes. He saw she was on the verge of tears from her quivering lip chewed hard between her teeth and he felt like a piece of shit. She let go of his coat's sleeve as she sniffed a little and backed away from him.
"Molly" he reached out but she shook her head and backed away even further, "I got the message loud and clear" she said in a trembling voice but never stopping to hold his gaze, "I'll go on with Professor Robinson's project. At your convenience, you know where I am".
Then Molly turned her back on him and after a long, deep breath, opened the lecture hall's door and went back inside, leaving Sherlock standing frozen to curse himself for hurting the only person in the world with whom he could truly be himself.
It was nearly 8 in the evening when Molly, back and shoulders aching from having spent three hours and a half in the lab reorganizing the experiment's data Sherlock hadn't finished, was walking back to her room on campus. When her phone started ringing non-stop she noticed two texts in the message box. Before answering the call she read them grinning bitterly
COME AT ONCE IF CONVENIENT – SH
IF INCONVENIENT, COME ANYWAY – SH
Oh, so typical of Sherlock! He used to say such horrible things, then regret it and apologize but this time she wasn't going to let him get away with it! If he thought of endearing himself to her only by apologizing, well he was very wrong! He had a long way to go to be forgiven, this time. If Sherlock really cared about her friendship, because Molly knew he would never see her any other way, he would have to go to great lengths to prove it to her.
With this resolute mind she accepted the call. "No more stupid games, Sherlock" she said ready to retort whatever he said to coax her, "Come here in a hurry, you silly girl. He doesn't feel well" on the other side of the phone a male voice, she recognized as Sebastian Wilkes', bluntly snapped at her.
Molly froze on the spot, a bad feeling creeping under her skin "Here…here, where?" she asked with her heart now beating wildly, "In his room. Hurry up!". She glanced around looking for the shortest way from where she was to reach the boy's dorm, and then started running wildly.
Sebastian was waiting for her at the main entrance. After looking cautiously inside and out, he ordered her to crouch down so as to pass unnoticed by the supervisor, whose control post was at the side of the entrance. All this because after dinner girls were forbidden to enter.
As soon as she got to the top of the first flight of stairs, Molly stood upright "Is Sherlock okay? What's the problem?" she asked worriedly, trying to lengthen her pace to keep up with Wilkes, "Well, he was entertaining himself…" he cleared his throat and avoid looking her in the eyes, "It's better you see with your own eyes to get a better idea" the young man merely said, guiding her along the corridor.
At the endo of it, on the right, Wilkes stopped and put his hand on the knob "Are you ready?". She took a deep breath, wondering what on earth she had to expect beyond that door for Wilkes to be so dramatic.
It crossed her mind that it was a joke, that Sebastian had dragged her there to mock and embarrassed her with Sherlock because of her obvious crush on him. But then she thought of Sherlock's two texts in which he asked her to go, so she nodded to him and he opened the door.
The room was in a bad mess. Books and newspapers scattered everywhere, a blue dressing gown lay rolled into a ball on the desk. On the floor, at the end of the bed there were the clothes worn by Sherlock that day along with his underwear and a clearly feminine one. Molly's heart sank. Sex and drugs, of course. It was known the two things were closely related, why did she delude herself Sherlock had chosen only one of them?
Trying not to let her heartache leak out of her voice, she asked Sebastian where the girl had ended up and if, unlike Sherlock, she was okay. Sherlock's dorm mate nodded "The chick got quite a scare…She knocked at my door like a madwoman" he explained with a low chuckle as if amused by the situation.
She gave him a look of stern reproach as she let her bag slide off her shoulder onto a stack of books by the door and then approached the bed where Sherlock was writhing and moaning. It was obvious to Molly he wasn't okay but he didn't look like he was in danger of life. Not that time, but next?
"Sherlock" she called firmly as she bent over him, trying to ignore he was completely naked and had a slight amount of a fine white powder scattered around his genitalia. "Where's the list?", Molly asked as she gently covered him with the crumpled sheet.
"Hooper! What fucking list are you worried about? Holmes is not well! You should worry about him and not a goddamn list!" Sebastian had rushed forward waving his hands feverishly getting a chilling look from Molly in response that silenced him. She turned her attention back to Sherlock.
It was understandable that Molly's request didn't make sense to him, but she wasn't allowed to talk to anyone about the deal Sherlock had made long ago, just when he'd shown up at her dorm half dead, with his older brother. Each time Sherlock would give in, he would have to write a list of what he had taken.
Sherlock writhed again as slowly opened his eyes "Hey! Mo-Molly!", her lips quirked in a sad smile as she sat on the narrow mattress beside him, "Yeah, it's me. Where's the list, Sherlock?" she asked again running tenderly a hand over his face, "M-Mollyyyy! I…I…pwease…" he mumbled slurring.
"I need the list, do you understand me?" Molly all but growled down at him, feelings of frustration building up inside her. He was a mess. How dare he do this to himself? Sherlock answered with an incomprehensible moan and she shook him by his shoulders "For Heaven's sake, Sherlock! THE LIST!".
The curly young man stared up at her glassy-eyed and breathing heavily, "No list…no need…only cocaine to-todayyy" he whined, trying and failing to get on his elbows. "Oh, God! Ne-never sni-niff stuff out of a girl's body…" Sherlock's head dropped heavily on the pillow as he burst into a rambling laugh that turned into a cough, "The best shaaag ever, I swe-swear", looking hurt and disappointed Molly turned and whispered "Get the point, Sherlock".
She started to stand up but Sherlock grabbed her wrist pulling her to him "I te-texted you…why aren't you…I didn't want to but I was get-tting bored…she was so boring, not like you…you're clumsy but not boring at all".
He cupped his hands on her jaw and tried to draw her even closer to him "Kiss me, Mol-lly Hooper", she instinctively placed both hands on his chest and pushed him down onto the mattress "Sherlock Holmes! If you weren't so high I would slap you!". Sherlock chuckled amused trying to grab her wrist again but having to give up for his shaking hand "What do you say if I spank you instead? It would be sexy".
Molly stood up steaming with rage, "This is not a game, Sherlock! How long do you think you can go on taking what you take…" she broke off seeing him writhe and withdraw into himself once more, "Oh, re-lax Molly! You seemed very stressed" he groaned, "I'm stressed, you're dying" she almost screamed as she could no longer contain her worry and fear for him.
Molly wiped with the back of her hand some tears lingering on her cheeks and rummaged in her bag for her phone, then she pressed a speed dial button. "Miss Hooper, if you call me I must deduce that my little brother…is not well" she sighed heavily, sniffed and wiped a hand across her nose, "Please, tell me what to do, Mr Holmes" she begged him.
SHMHSHMHSHMHSHMHSHMHSHMHSHMHSHMHSHMHSHMHSHMHSHMHSHMHSHMH
Sherlock pulled himself up on his elbows. The sunlight was so strong it took a while for his eyes to focus on the petite woman's shape moving around not far from him. Molly was sauntering towards the foreshore. The light blowing wind sometimes made her yellow sundress' fabric stick to her legs, other times it lifted it a bit.
Even her hair, which in the sunlight seemed a soft honey colour and left loose on her shoulders, was ruffled by the gentle breath of air. He watched her intently as she repeatedly moved a few strands behind her ear and lifted her face to the sky so that the sun's rays caressed her features.
Sherlock sat down on the beach chair and rested his eyes on her a little longer before getting up and joining her. As he took a few steps towards her, Sherlock saw her turn and beckon him to come closer, her voice calling his name. As soon as he was behind her, he put his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to the skin of her right shoulder.
Molly leaned in his body letting out a sigh of bliss, "Sherlock?" she whispered to get his attention, "Mm?" he hummed as his lips brushed the shell of her ear and pulled her back into the warmth of his body, "What was today about?". He raised his head and rested his cheek against hers, aiming his gaze towards the point where sea and sky met, "Saying I love you".
Molly turned on herself to be able to face him and look in his eyes, "I love you too" he met her lips in a loving kiss, "And saying thank you" he added softly, "For saving me from myself many years ago". She smiled softly while he crouched slightly on his knees, his hands firm on her hips, his mouth close to her belly "It's better I warn you, my little one. Your mother is the most tenacious and obstinate woman I've ever met" he said in his lowest baritone tone ever.
Then with a small smile he gave Molly a wink "But it's thanks to her that I can now say I am a happy and better man". She gave him a slightly pat on his shoulder "You really are a shameless flatterer, Sherlock Holmes!" she said cupping his jawline with her hands and pulling him up to her for another kiss.