The Fall
Molly was expecting it, but it's still a shock. Sherlock's lifeless body has been left for her at the morgue. She knows this is fake, just a magic trick they set up together but it looks so… real. It shouldn't scare her, she sees dead people all the time. But this is Sherlock. Her Sherlock.
His hair is drenched with blood (not his, she prepared the pouch herself). They closed his eyes but his mouth is slightly open. His shirt has been removed as the doctors were trying to revive him. She hopes the CPR didn't last for too long. There are no burn marks so hopefully they didn't use the defibrillator. He looks strangely peaceful and she knows this is her last moment of calm before a long time. They agreed that he will temporary hide at her flat before he manages to disappear abroad. The perspective of living with Sherlock is undeniably exciting, but it will certainly not be peaceful.
She also knows that somewhere, a few floors above, John Watson is lying in an hospital bed. The doctors had to give him a sedative, for the shock. She cannot believe that Sherlock chose her, over him to be his confident. His words are still echoing in her mind "You always counted, and I always trusted you."
But enough daydreaming, there is no time to lose otherwise his heart might stop for good. She prepares the adrenaline shot and injects him with it. And she waits. He said it should take around five minutes but they are the longest in her life. Suddenly she breathes in relief, there's a pulse. Thank god, there's a pulse.
The relief is brief though. The adrenaline should have provoked a shock but he is still unconscious. Molly gently shakes his arm and whispers in his ear.
"Hey Sherlock, you can wake up now. You're safe, please wake up…"
She warned him, a 70-foot fall, even absorbed by the bags, isn't riskless. He has, of course, dismissed her advice but maybe there is something wrong. Her fears are confirmed when Sherlock finally opens his eyes. He seems disoriented, unable to focus his attention, he has trouble breathing, he's panicking. Molly puts her hand on his forehead, trying to calm him down.
"Hush, you're fine Sherlock, don't worry. Do you remember what happened?"
"No… Moriarty?",he answers, wincing in pain.
"Moriarty is dead. And you made it but you probably have a concussion. Try not to move too much, I'll check if you have other injuries." She is trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. She remembers the time she once spent in pediatrics and dealing with Sherlock is often close to dealing with a child.
She starts to examine the detective when another wave of pain, much more violent, hits him. He lets out a load moan, like a wounded animal, which makes Molly's blood freeze.
"Talk to me Sherlock. Tell me, where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere… DO something!", he cries out. Suddenly his breathing becomes erratic and he is losing consciousness again.
"No!", exclaims Molly, "Sherlock you cannot sleep". No reaction, she grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him. "You need to stay awake, it's important." She takes his pulse, it's far too high. He's going into cardiac arrest.
She might be able to save him, for a moment. But he won't make it without a full medical support, and there is nothing in the morgue to take care of a living patient. She can feel the tears running down her cheeks. This is the worst possible scenario and she knows she has only one option left.
Her hands are shaking when she dials the number left her on a paper.
"Mr Holmes? This is Molly Hooper from Bart's Morgue. We met before… Did the hospital already call you about… Sherlock? Sir, I know this sounds crazy but Sherlock is alive. He's alive but he needs your help, we need your help."
To be continued…
^/^
Many thanks to all of you who reviewed the first chapter! You are the best!
So I decided to write a bit more about Sherlock / Molly backstory during the hiatus. It will be shorter chapters but it may allow me to update more regularly. So stay tuned !