Next chapter ! This time it explains the role of Molly during the fall. I don't own BBC Sherlock. Please Review :D
Everything was calculated. Molly was on the second floor, in front of the open window, ready to let fall the corpse of the man who looked like Sherlock she had been ordered to find. Mycroft Holmes' men had disguised him like Sherlock. She just had to wait for the terrible instant, to contain herself to look at the window to see if the plan had worked, and just through the corpse by the window. She checked if the door was locked one more time and took her phone in her hands. Soon, she received a text saying : « Lazarus is go ». Molly sighed. She didn't know the entire plans, only her role in them. She waited to see the real Sherlock jumping from the roof, her heart racing, afraid of loosing him for good. « 3…2…1… » she thought in her head and then she threw the cadaver away, letting him crashing down on the floor of the street. She could not see what was going on, the risk of John seeing her at the window being too elevated. But when she heard the noise, down in the street, it woke her up. She moved quickly the bed where the corpse had been and unlocked the door before heading to the emergency department. She ran downstairs and hid herself behind a wall, just hearing the noises. Sherlock's homeless network took in charge to bring a faked bloody Sherlock to her. Sherlock opened his eyes and sat down on the bed he was on, putting off the little ball he had placed under his shoulder to stop the pulse.
« - Get me to the mortuary ! » he ordered Molly.
The two of them ran into the big room when John Watson was finally coming in the emergency building.
« - I have to make the fake papers of your order of autopsy, she said to the detective while he was putting of the blood from his face. Lock you in here and wait for me here, as planned. »
Sherlock nodded absently. His mind was repeating again and again the cry of John Watson when he found out he was dead. About one our later, Molly opened the door of the toilets where Sherlock was locked and took a surprised look when she saw him sat on the sink, his fingers under his lower lips, back in his mind-palace.
« - Sherlock ? she asked softly, afraid of making him jump off the sink. I have the papers, you're officially…dead. Wanna do a party ?
- Stop making jokes Molly, muttered Sherlock, leaving his mind palace to go out of the toilets.
- Sorry… » she murmured.
Sherlock came into the mortuary and observed the big room smelling formaldehyde. Molly followed him and began to make some strange gestures.
« - Molly, humans are gifted with the ability to speak you know ? he said while crossing his arms.
- You…, she began nervously. You'll need to take your clothes off for the recognition of the body…Oh of course you'll be under this white sheet and you can keep the underwear ! »
Sherlock nodded and took off his coat and scarf and then began to unbutton his shirt. Molly's jaw dropped a little while she stuttered :
« - You..you know you can…change in the…toilets, because I'm here and well uh…
- Molly you do post-mortem, you see naked men everyday, shall I recall to you ?
- Well..I…I… » she stutter and then turn the other way not to see Sherlock putting off his pants.
Molly waited for what seemed to her an eternity before she heard Sherlock getting up on the metal table and cover himself with the white sheet.
« - Can I turn ? she asked shyly.
- Molly…, he answered with an annoyed voice.
- Sorry ! » she said before turning.
She almost gasped, seing Sherlock, eyes closed, unmoving, barely breathing. He seemed so…dead. That was perfect. Well…not perfect for everyone. She heard a knock on the door and ran to get Sherlock's clothes and put them into a cupboard.
« - Ready ? she whispered to the fake dead. Okay I open the door. Time to show up your actor talents ! »
She walked to the door of the mortuary, erased a small smile on her face and just the thought of John helped her picking a sad look for her face. She opened the door and a literally devastated John Watson pushed her away yelling and crying. He turned to Molly, a bit disoriented and asked her frantically, taking her by the shoulders :
« - Where is he Molly ?! I need to see him, he's not dead, he is not ! I'm sure he's not, he's my friend he wouldn't be a fake !
- Wait John, I…
- You made a mistake ! He's not dead, he not a…he is not a fake… »
On that, he collapsed in tears against Molly, who could just hugging him back, understanding the hurt Sherlock had done to his friend. Lestrade stormed in too, crossing Molly's desperate look.
« - Tell me that's not true ! » he said, shaking his head.
Molly frowned and looked down in anger. Sherlock didn't tell her his reasons for faking his death, but the hurt made to his friends was just not acceptable. She held a sob and looked on the direction of the fake dead Sherlock. She was wondering what he was thinking of the situation. But to protect himself from possible harm, he had locked his mind in his mind palace.
Molly led the two poor looking men to the metal table where Sherlock was lying and pulled off the sheet to show Sherlock's blank face. Molly herself thought he was actually dead. After a few minutes, she placed back the sheet, and walked the two friends out of the mortuary.
« - Molly…, began John in a painful voice.
- I know, she answered before he could say a word which could make her cry.
- Why ? Lestrade asked. Why on the hell did he say he was a fake before jumping from that bloody roof ?!
- Really, I'm sorry, I don't know more than you, I just know he is… »
But Molly couldn't say it anymore. She didn't want to say it anymore.