Chapter 9

So… many apologizes about being so long again. But I'm really happy to finally deliver this new chapter.

As I said last time, this one is much darker than the precedent. And I must warn you that there is some mention of some possibly triggery issues*. But I didn't change the rating as there is really nothing graphic.

I hope you still enjoy the story, and please review ^^.

(*Spoilers : child sexual abuse, domestic violence, abortion, drug use).

Sherlock and Molly's relationship definitely took a new turn after their first kiss in the park. Molly was in heaven, her dreams finally becoming reality. She hadn't been so happy in a very long time. Maybe this was even the happier she had ever been. Every morning she was feeling like a 15 year old before a first date. And the whole situation looked indeed like a teenage romance.

They both decided it was better to keep it a secret for the moment. Hopefully Mycroft was still travelling, but Sherlock knew that the staff would inform him immediately of this new situation. And the last thing he wanted was to receive a phone call from his brother lecturing him about his love life. The only one to be in the loop was Helen, the elder nurse of the staff who always had a soft spot for Molly. Britain was going through a real heat wave that summer, so they had to cancel their walks in the park and take refuge in Sherlock's room which had air conditioning. Helen would make sure that no one would disturb the new couple.

Sherlock's bed being large enough for two, Molly had taken the habit of joining him for an afternoon nap. That particular day was so hot that she had stripped off of her jeans, wearing only her knickers and a tank top. This was the more intimate situation they had been in so far. In fact, after being together for 10 days, they hadn't gone past kissing and it seemed that none of them dared to take things further. Molly had done a bit of research about sexuality for paraplegics. She knew this wouldn't be easy and she could easily imagine that Sherlock would be a bit apprehensive about it.

The kisses were becoming more heated. Initially, she had the sensation that he had little experience in that area, but he was starting to be really good. Quick learner, she wasn't surprised. Instinctively, her hand made her way under his shirt and her fingers brushed against his stomach. She felt him tense at her touch and he pulled out of the kiss.

"It's fine", whispered Molly, "there's no rush".

He looked embarrassed, staring at the wall to avoid her gaze.

"I just want to be with you", she added, placing a tender kiss along his jaw. He finally looked back her and she gave him the most adorable smile. He remained silent for a moment, almost mesmerized.

"What you are you looking at?", she asked.

"You. You are beautiful".

She looked beautiful indeed, her skin slightly tanned from the hours they had spent in the sun. Simple and fresh, like a flower. Sherlock removed the elastic holding her hair and passed his hand in it, it felt softer than silk. He carefully pushed away the lock of hair falling on her forehead, revealing a white scar just below her hair line. He gently passed his finger on it.

"Who did that to you?", he inquired.

"What?"

"That scar. Who was it?"

This time it was Molly's turn to look uncomfortable.

"That…Oh nobody it was a bike accident."

"Molly…" he sighed, "You know it's no use lying to me."

"But I'm not lying!"

Sherlock closed his eyes and mumbled, "Don't make me do this…". When he reopened them she was still staring back at him with an expression between surprise and indignation.

"I was slow…", he started. "It was there in front of me all those years but I understood only a few weeks ago. You had even told it to me. I know what that means, looking sad when you think no one can see you. And you do know what that means, right? The unimpressive clothes, the way you keep apologizing for everything and why you always choose such elaborate hairstyles when you look much better with your hair down. Then there is your very interesting choice of boyfriend. Amongst all the men crossing Bart's doors you end up with a criminal mastermind. A bit of pattern don't you think? Because before him there has been another man, the one who made you that scar. Did you date him because he reminded you of your brother? Who kept bringing you down. Or maybe even of your father?"

"My father was nothing like that!", she exclaimed. "And you're being cruel. I don't know what you're talking about."

Molly turned away to the other side of the bed, feeling mortified. Why did he have to speak about that and spoil everything? And how could she have been stupid enough to think she could hide anything from him? She briefly considered running away but she was paralyzed by fear. It was Sherlock who suddenly broke the heavy silence:

« When I was ten… », he started. "My parents hired a private tutor to teach me at home. I had been expelled from a few schools because of my antisocial behaviour. Anyway, they hired this guy who had an excellent resume and had taught at Oxford. That should have caught their attention in the first place, why would an Oxford teacher want to become a private tutor? But they didn't consider necessary to do a background check."

Molly wondered why he was counting her this story, but she had an unpleasant feeling about it. She hesitated for a moment and turned back to face him. His hands were pressed together under his chin, as if praying.

Sherlock continued: "His name was Paul Carter. He made a good impression, he was smart and most of all I liked him. He was completely different than any of the teachers I had at school. He never gave me any textbook or silly exercises. Everything I learnt I had to discover it by myself, by making experiments. He was brilliant and interesting and I was fascinated. Everything was doing well until one night he came into my room and decided that he wanted to teach me about something else."

Molly's jaws dropped in horror.

"Did he…?"

"… Rape me? No. However there is no doubt what he did could be classified as pedophilia. He told me I was special and I that I shouldn't tell anyone because people wouldn't understand. I hated it, and I guess that somehow I knew it was wrong. But I trusted him so I didn't say anything."

"You were only ten, of course you trusted him! What about your family, nobody noticed anything?"

"As I said my father was rarely at home. And my mother was depressive, she was often under heavy medication. It was Mycroft who found out. He came back from University at the end of terms and it didn't take him long to suspect something. He caught him red-handed. My brother told me to go and hide into his room and he stayed with him. I don't know what really happened that night, but the following day Carter resigned and left."

"You parents didn't press charges?"

"My parents never knew about it. Mycroft thought it was better to spare our mother. And a trial could have been damageable for my father's political career. So it remained our secret. We never talked about it again. Except one time, a few years later, Mycroft told me that Carter had been taken care of. Apparently an unexplained car accident."

He had said those last words with a grin but she could see a single tear falling down his cheek. Molly felt her hear sink.

"Sherlock I'm so sorry", she whispered, hardly holding back her own tears. "I had no idea…"

"I had never told anyone. Well, except Mycroft."

"This is wrong, what you brother did. There should have been a trial, you needed it. He let that guy walk away freely, maybe he had the time to do it to another child before… whatever happened to him."

"Mycroft was only seventeen… I know he still feels guilty about it. That's why he's being overprotective now and has the detestable habit of constantly meddling with my life."

Molly completely forgot about their previous argument and rested her head against Sherlock's chest. His heart was pounding but she felt it slowly coming back to its normal pace. Her fingers were tracing light patterns on one of his hands. Molly was still shook up about what she had learnt. It explained a lot about Sherlock's behaviour, but it also raised a lot of interrogations in her mind. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, her curiosity was stronger.

"Sherlock… can I ask you a question?"

"Yes"

"Did you… ever had a relationship before? I remember this woman, Irene Adler. And I'm sorry she died by the way."

"There was nothing with Irene, it was a just a game between us. She preferred women and I wasn't interested in the kind of services she provided. But if your real question was did you ever had sex, then the answer is yes. Did I enjoy it? Not particularly."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be indiscreet. I'm only asking because I don't want to do anything you would be… uncomfortable with."

"Sex doesn't make me uncomfortable. But I can hardly see the point of it, especially in my situation now."

"Well… it can be something beautiful to share when you love somebody. You said you didn't enjoy it, why? What happened?"

"There was this girl in my class in high school. Apparently she already had a lot of experience in that area. I was curious so I decided to give it a try. Seducing her turned out to be very easy indeed, I didn't even need to take her to the movies."

"And then?"

"I got nervous, she said it was terrible."

"Ok, so she was a bitch."

"Molly Hooper!"

"What? It's normal to be nervous on your first time. And generally it's never that good. She shouldn't have told you that. And you can definitely not judge from that experience."

"There was a boy too… In Uni. His name was Victor. He actually owned the dog which bite me, that's how we became friends. He was gay. I wasn't particularly attracted to men but it was another experiment. And I already knew about Mycroft so I thought it might… run in the family. We ended up sharing a bed a few times. Actually we didn't do much, because Victor was more interested in drugs than sex. He introduced me to the wonders of morphine and cocaine. The sex was somehow pleasurable but mostly because I was high. One day Victor left Uni and moved abroad. Mycroft put me in rehab. I classified the whole sex experiment as inconclusive and I never bothered trying it again."

Molly remained speechless.

"You're shocked", he said.

"No, no, I'm not shocked."

"Then you're disappointed."

"No", she shook her head. "I told you, I just want to be with you. If you don't want to have sex, then it's fine for me. But I you want to give it another try then I'm here for you."

"Molly, even I wanted to… you know I can't."

"I've been… reading on the subject, actually it's not impossible. We could try and if it doesn't work then we could see with your doctor. There are solutions. And I also think it would be good if you could talk to a professional about what happened to you as a child. I've heard there is an excellent psychotherapist at the hospital."

"I don't know."

"You know what? Let's take our time. I'm already so proud of you." She gave him a kiss on the cheek before putting back her head on his chest.

"And you were right, it wasn't a bike accident."

"I'm always right. What was his name?"

"David. David Sheppard. He was my boyfriend at Edinburgh medical school. Handsome, good family, brilliant surgery student. The kind of guy all the girls were dreaming of. I was madly in love with him."

"But he wasn't such a prince charming after all?"

"I got pregnant. It was an accident, but I thought we could make it work. Except David didn't see things this way. He said that we were too young, and we should wait to be settled in life. After we graduate, we could get married and start a family. I wanted that baby. But I let him convince me and I got an abortion."

Sherlock didn't say a word but he felt anger rising in him.

"We graduated and we moved in together. I was hoping he would propose. But instead he started to change. At first it was little details, like complaining that I didn't clean the flat properly. Then he started to talk bad to me, and finally he slapped me because I broke a glass in the kitchen. He apologised, he said that he was under a lot of stress at work. He was nicer for a while, he would bring me flowers and take me out to dinner. I forgave him. But then of course it started again. One day I had the courage to stand up. He grabbed me by the hair and slammed my face against the wall. That's how I got this scar. The morning after, when he had gone to work, I packed a bag and left. I was so afraid that I never dared to come back to pick up the rest of my things. I left Edinburgh and moved to London. That was two years before you and I first met at Bart's. That's it, you know everything."

Molly felt a huge weight drop off her shoulders. She was waiting anxiously for Sherlock's reaction.

"That David Sheppard…", he said. "If you want we could give his name to Mycroft."

"No!", she exclaimed. "No, that's the past. That's why I didn't want to speak about it. It's behind me, I don't care."

"Alright. Molly… I want you to know that I'm not like that. I may have many flaws but I would never do such a thing."

"I know", she reassured him.

"Good. But you to need stand up for yourself. Don't let men talk to you this way. Don't let me talk to you this way. If I cross the line you have to tell me to shut up! Otherwise, you know I won't."

"I'll keep that in mind. Pity I don't have a recorder with me."

"Of course I'll deny I ever said that."

Her crystalline laugh filled the room. Molly was so tiny in his arms, so fragile. Sherlock felt like he could kill anyone who would want ever want to harm her. He stored David Sheppard's name somewhere in his mind palace. He would decide later what was to be done with him.

"And Molly?"

"Yes ?"

"It seems that my opinion on sex requires additional experimentation. Consider the case reopened."