Molly's got some new co-workers, can you guess what BBC TV show they're based on? ;)
Sherlock placed his bag down and collected his violin and phone.
"I want you to hear something," he said, unlocking his phone. "You might think that you've ruined this one thing for me but you haven't. I should thank you because, without your intervention, I would have never heard something as beautiful as this." And he played the video.
Eurus' interest peaked and she finally turned as she sat, staring intently at the video.
Mycroft stood up to gain a better view of the phone and was surprised to see Molly playing. She can play now?, he thought curiously.
When the fifteen-minute video ended, Sherlock returned his phone to his inside suit pocket and placed his violin in its natural place between his chin and shoulder.
"She doesn't sound as sad as you," Eurus stated, retrieving her violin. "Is that why she holds more value than me?"
"No."
Eurus started to play, her questions now becoming her melody.
'What makes her hold more value than me? Your sister, flesh and blood?'
Sherlock responded by adding a bit of vibrato. 'The fact that she is not flesh and blood. To me, water is thicker than blood although that is scientifically incorrect.'
Eurus almost chuckled, her melody becoming more sadder by the minute. 'What about Mummy? Or Daddy? Or even our good old brothers?'
'They hold more value than you do although not as much as Molly or John.'
'Ah, Watson... Good old Dr Watson and little Rosie was it?'
'Don't mention Rosie's name. Do not even dare speak of her.'
Eurus smirked. 'Getting protective of your little pet's daughter, now? I wonder why they made you godfather. You aren't exactly the caring type, are you?'
'Nor are you but who's complaining?'
'We are programmed, little brother, to filter out any signs of emotional context such as love. I am beginning to understand your infatuation with Molly Hooper.'
Sherlock turned away from her, his hands shaking a little more. 'You are the reason why I cannot comprehend emotional context but I thank you for that as I am getting help from those I love and care about. After murdering my best friend from my childhood, something in me clicked and I am relieved to say that it is coming back.'
'Why? Why do you want something so distasteful and distracting back?'
'Eurus, if you haven't noticed... we are unfortunately humans. I doubt we were sent from Space to destroy the Earth.'
Eurus smiled brightly. 'I would have liked that. That would have made things more fun. Unfortunately, this life would suffice.'
She ceased playing.
"Time's up. Please leave the way you came through. You too, Crofty."
Sherlock halted his playing abruptly and placed his violin into its case gently before putting that into his bag and leaving.
...
John turned to face Sherlock again. "Are you sure you want to do this alone?"
His friend nodded, straightening his Belstaff. "I have to. I think it's better if Mr and Mrs Trevor hear this from me."
"I can be in there, you know? For support."
"I appreciate that John, I really do but... this is also for me. This is the closure that I had never got when I was a child. I had done so much to block him out, I think I owe him to do this alone and not be the coward I was as a child."
John sighed sadly. "You were a child, Sherlock. You weren't a coward for being traumatised."
"I believe that I was. Wait here."
Sherlock got out of the car, courtesy of Mycroft as he was also close to the family, once close with a distant cousin of young Victor's.
The young detective made his way to the gates and buzzed the button, the intercom coming to life.
[Hello?]
"Hello, it's Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes, we spoke on the phone?"
[Oh! Dear boy, do come in!]
The gates opened and Sherlock strolled into the compound, nervously straightening out his Belstaff again and fixing his curls.
He made his way to the front door and it forcefully opened, revealing an old grey-haired man who smiled brightly.
"As I live and breathe... it's the young detective that's always in the papers! How are you, Sherlock?"
Sherlock took a deep breath before mustering up a smile and shaking the elder man's hand. "I've been well, thank you. You?"
Oliver Trevor gulped loudly, gesturing for Sherlock to follow him. "It's been difficult, these past few years. Leona... she suffered an aneurysm seven years ago and has never been the same. To be honest, she has never been the same since... since Vicky."
"I apologise, Mr Trevor." Sherlock frowned, finally being led to where his young best friend's mother sat watching the garden by the window. "Mrs Trevor? It's me, Sherlock." Sherlock said, kneeling down beside her.
Leona turned to face Sherlock, a small smile gracing her lips. "Look, Ollie... it's that Holmes boy that our Vicky played with. Call Vicky for him, will you? Tell him his friend is here." She said gently.
Sherlock could feel the tears threatening to fall from her cheeks and timidly went to dry a stray one from the corner of her eye. "It's fine, Mrs Trevor. I do not wish to disturb Vicky."
"Always were such a good boy, Sherl..." Her eyes darkened. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house? Oliver!"
Oliver rushed to comfort his wife, placing a loving hand on her shoulder. "Leona, it's okay. Look, it's Sherlock Holmes. He's come to visit us. Don't you remember our Vicky's dear friend?"
Leona took a good look at Sherlock before breaking out into a smile. "Boy, he's grown! Hasn't he, Ollie? He looks so handsome! Our Vicky is handsome too, Sherlock. He comes to sort my garden twice a week!"
"How about you take a small nap before dinner, Leona. Holmes-boy and I have to talk."
"Men things?" Leona smirked, rocking her chair gently.
Oliver chuckled. "Men things, my love. Come on, dear boy."
Sherlock followed Oliver into the kitchen, where they sat in the breakfast nook as Leona's nurse made tea for them.
"You see how bad she is, Sherlock..." Mr Trevor sighed, rubbing his face. "At least she recognised you."
Sherlock almost hesitated in asking. "She said that Victor comes to sort out her garden. Does she not remember that..."
Oliver sighed, nodding. "Our gardener's about your age. Light brown hair, brown eyes, the whole debacle. He is her interpretation of our Vicky's older self."
"I'm so sorry..." Sherlock mumbled, thanking the nurse for his tea. He drank it black, not bothering to add any luxuries as he remembered that John was still waiting in the car.
"I never once asked you how you were following Vicky's disappearance. Leona and I could seldom hear your screams during the night when you were a child."
"I was traumatised, sir. In the end, I guess that I completely rewrote history to make me feel safer and better."
Oliver leant in a little, rejecting the offer of tea. "May I ask what you rewrote?"
"It will hurt..." Sherlock gently warned. "I made myself, forced myself, to believe that Victor was my dog who I named 'Redbeard' but I also forgot to remember that my father was indeed allergic to dogs so we never even had one."
Oliver moved back, settling his back against the seat. "Children are very delicate things, Sherlock. I am not surprised nor hurt at all. Your parents did everything they could to comfort you as well as us but nothing seemed to work for both sides."
They sat in silence, Oliver finally taking his tea and putting cream, milk and two spoonfuls of sugar in it.
"I know what happened to Victor."
Mr Trevor gave a non-surprised look and nodded. "You do." He more or less stated.
"He drowned. There was an excavation at our old home and well, my associate found his bones at the bottom of a well, between our homes. He will need your DNA to compare to and confirm this but I know it's Victor and I am so sorry."
Sherlock allowed a few tears to fall. He had received the information from Mycroft (who gave it unwillingly, afraid of his brother's current mental state) and then sent the facts to Lestrade who conducted the search and eventually found the young child's remains.
"I will come. To give my DNA sample but Leona must not know about this, okay?" Mr Trevor begged.
"You have my word, Oliver," Sherlock replied, receiving a pat on the back from the older man.
Oliver looked outside to where Sherlock's car was waiting and gave him a small smile. "I believe your friend is becoming impatient."
"Please," Sherlock scoffed. "It's only been twenty minutes."
Mr Trevor bellowed, sipping his tea. His eyes glanced down to Sherlock's hands and the young detective found himself becoming cautious about them, opting to slip them further into his sleeves.
"Those look nasty. How did you do it?"
Sherlock gave him a small smile. "I fought with a coffin."
Oliver laughed and Sherlock joined him. "You always were a strange little kid... You always were."
...
Molly sighed in relief when she stepped into her newly decorated bungalow in sunny Orlando, Florida.
The driver - Mycroft's, who else? - helped her with her suitcases, declining her offer to help.
"Dr Hooper, I am under strict instructions to make sure that you are comfortable and not stressed," George said, wheeling them in. "I could take them to your room unless you want that bit of independence?" He teased.
Molly laughed. "I can take it from here, thanks, George."
George soon left, leaving her comfortable in her new home. Something wrapped around her legs and Molly gasped, picking up her beloved cat, Toby.
"Mycroft sent you didn't he?" She cooed. "I'm so glad you're here with me. We can be alone together."
The cat purred, reaching to play with her hair and Molly giggled, kissing his fur lovingly.
She took her phone from her pocket and looked at her to-do list in her notes.
"I'm going to have to leave you again, Tobes. I got Dr Stamford - Mike - to call and tell him of my safe arrival and I've got to visit my new workplace to confirm my presence."
Toby hissed but snuggled up to her before jumping out of her arm and running over to his new bed by the TV.
"Yeah, you stay there." Molly chuckled, phoning Mike Stamford.
After her call, she grabbed her new keys from the kitchen counter and her bag before leaving outside to see a note stuck onto her door as she turned to lock it.
It said, 'Your new vehicle is secured in the garage. Enjoy - MH'.
Molly smiled, pressing a button on her keys to see the garage door roll up, showing a brand new SUV. Perfect for a little family.
"You sure do impress, Mycroft." She mumbled, checking out the new car before getting inside to admire it more.
It took her 45 minutes to get to her new place after false directions from her Sat-Nav but she wasn't late nonetheless.
She sat in her car for five minutes, studying the new high-tech building which would fulfil her career choice. She almost felt anxious. She had spoken to her new boss, Thomas - or Tom as he preferred - Wilson and he had seemed nice, telling her that he was a fellow Londoner who got a hefty bonus and promotion to work in America. He was good friends with Mike so that assured her even more.
Tom had spoken briefly of her new co-workers. Most from the UK too which should help her settle in very quickly. There was Emilia Alexander, a pathologist who had moved to the States after the death of her dear husband, only being 34. There was Rhys Hodgson - a Scottish - and forensics analyst who had a brother in jail and he had sadly provided evidence to put him there and he was the youngest being 32. And lastly, Liz. Molly didn't know much about her nor what the American did as she was barely seen - in and out and a frequent flyer - and she was in her mid-sixties so barely even spoke to the younger co-workers. Molly sort of hoped that she didn't meet this 'Liz', yet.
After pondering, she finally exited her car and walked up to the building, surprised at the automatic doors. Impressed she made her way to the reception, only to see it empty.
"H-Hello?"
She jumped when a door to her right beeped open and she was met with a smiling blonde with brown eyes.
"Dr Molly Hooper? Tom said you'd stop by."
Molly nodded, offering her hand to shake. "Yeah, I just wanted to have a little induction. You must be Emilia...?"
The blonde nodded. "Dr Emelia Alexander. Tom has been called out to a meeting so I'm the one who will be showing you around if that's okay?"
"That's fine. I was kind of anxious to meet him anyway. Anxious to meet everyone."
Emilia smiled and went to the reception desk to collect a key card. "Like every business, we have security measures aka key cards. Here is yours."
Molly smiled proudly at the shiny card containing a photo of her from her St. Bart's days and she placed the lanyard around her neck.
"Follow me," Emilia said, clocking back into the right room as Molly quickly clocked in.
Emilia gestured to various of rooms, explaining what the conference room was for, the Chapel of Rest, staff room, personal offices and forensics lab as well as the morgue.
"I'm sure you're familiar with all of these but it helps to be reminded," Emilia said gently. "That's Liz. She's nice when you get to know her. Dr Fontaine is a forensics analyst."
Molly saw the brunette hard at work, using her microscope to identify different substances. She then saw a tall brunette man enter, smiling jokingly at Liz.
"That's Rhys. The only one Liz allows to get close to her. He is what we call 'Jack of All Trades' and the joker here. Don't worry, he's harmless and he can really be deep with you when you want him to. He's a big softie inside if you mind the muscles," Emilia joked, making Molly giggle.
"I was a bit scared to know Liz."
Emilia nodded. "From what Tom likes to say, she's like a vampire. Sucks on your blood and leaves you hanging. Don't worry, she's fine."
Molly gasped subtly when Rhys turned to her, his sharp blue eyes reminding her of Sherlock's.
He gave her a smile and a small wave before saying something to Liz who waved him away, determined to not get disturbed by him. He then proceeded to walk to the door and open it, the glass door settling back into place when he stood in front of them.
"Aye, Dr Molly Hooper. Nice to meet you." He said, shaking her hand.
She gave a polite smile, forcing herself not to wince at how strong his grip seemed. "You must be Rhys."
"Yeah, don't hold a doctorship like the rest do but I get on well." He chuckled. "I hope you'll fit in just fine here."
Molly gave him a brighter smile. "I hope so, too."