Chapter 7
Disclaimer: Not mine
Notes: Sherlock is a bit high handed in this one. This one isn't beta'd...I just feel bad for her, I've sent her so much stuff, I thought I'd give her a break.
It had taken about an hour, but Gavin had managed to speak to all of Molly's neighbors and of course, no one had been outside when the post man had come. He tried calling the post office to see who was on duty, but the Post Master had told him that the postman that delivered to Molly's part of the Village had only left an hour ago and it couldn't possibly have been an employee who had delivered her post.
Barnaby had been on his mobile with Mycroft, having him call the coroner for a copy of the post mortems of Molly's parents, sister, and nephew. The coroner was being rather difficult, wanting Barnaby to dance through the proper channels and he just didn't have time to. Mycroft was able to have the reports delivered to Causton CID before Barnaby and Troy had even got back to the office.
Next Barnaby reached out to DI Lestrade and briefed him on what was happening. Lestrade had agreed to stop by St. Bart's to speak with Mike Stamford before he made the trip to Causton to meet with Barnaby and Troy.
It was around 5 pm when Lestrade got to Causton CID. A younger officer was waiting to take him back to a briefing room where Barnaby and Troy were waiting for him.
"Sir, DI Lestrade from Scotland Yard." The young officer said presenting him to Barnaby.
"Thank you Meeks." Barnaby said dismissing the officer. "I am DCI Barnaby and this is Detective Sergeant Troy." He said offering his hand to Lestrade.
Lestrade shook it and nodded to Troy. "Nice to meet you sir…Sergeant."
Troy nodded in greeting. Barnaby offered Lestrade a seat and all three men sat down.
"We are waiting on one of my officers to bring Dr. Hooper."
Lestrade nodded before a pained expression crossed his face. "And Sherlock?"
Barnaby smiled while Troy scowled. "He and Dr. Watson will be arriving shortly." The elder answered.
"Has he always been like that?" Troy blurted out looking at Lestrade.
"What? An insufferable git?" Lestrade asked. "Yes, Sergeant, he has."
"Is he really as brilliant as he thinks he is?" Troy asked again.
Lestrade sighed. "Yes, by God. Bloody brilliant he is, as much as it pains me to say. And unfortunately the size of his ego matches the size of his brain, makes him almost impossible to deal with at times. He's rude, condescending, a bloody nuisance and sometimes I'd like to knock those blasted curls right of his bloody head but…" His voice trailed when he noticed the amusement on Barnaby's face.
Barnaby chuckled. "Don't hold back, Inspector."
Lestrade laughed. "Yes well, he's an arrogant prig, but he is brilliant. And he's the best at what he does, God save us."
There was a knock at the door before being opened by Officer Meeks. "Sir, Dr. Hooper is here."
Barnaby nodded and stood. Meeks opened the door further and Molly walked in. Her face lit into a bright smile when she saw Lestrade. He stood, just in time to catch her when she flung herself into his arms.
"Oh Greg…I'm so glad to see you and that you're safe and…"
"I'm fine Molls, and so is Mike, so don't worry." He said releasing her to the ground, but keeping his hold on her arms. "Are you alright?"
She nodded relief evident on her face.
Lestrade's smile turned into a scowl. "Why in the bloody hell wouldn't you come to us Molly? Why didn't you tell us about what happened? I had to hear it from Sherlock and then I had to call Sgt. Bristol to get the police report and you know what a right git he is, acted all strange about it. You should've come to me instead of running off."
"I had to leave…" She said desperately trying to explain before she was interrupted.
"Why?" Lestrade pressed the anger and hurt evident in his voice.
"Because I thought if I left, Simon would follow me here and leave all of you alone. I couldn't risk losing anyone else and…I needed to get away from…"Her voice failed.
"Sherlock? I can understand that. But you still shouldn't have shut me, John, and Mike out."
Before Molly could respond, the door opened and Sherlock Holmes entered followed by John Watson.
"Ah Lestrade." John said. "Good to see you mate."
After everyone had said their greetings, Sherlock sat down beside Molly, smirking at Troy who glared at him.
"Give it a rest, will you Sherlock?" Lestrade snapped.
"I am merely taking a seat so Chief Inspector Barnaby can begin his debriefing." Sherlock said smiling innocently.
"I can see that you haven't changed much since boy hood." Barnaby remarked.
Sherlock's brow rose as he looked at Barnaby. "I'm sorry?"
Barnaby smiled. "I knew you when you were a boy. I knew your father and have enjoyed a long friendship with your brother Mycroft. Yes, I believe the last time I saw you was when you were around 7 years old. I believe that was when you were going through your pirate stage. You were running through the corridors of your father's summer home in nothing but your underwear, an eye patch, and a plastic sword, with your nanny in hot pursuit."
The entire room burst into gales of laughter except for Barnaby whose face remained impassive and Sherlock, whose face and neck had taken on a lovely shade of dusty rose.
"Oh my God…thank you…thank you so much for that…that is bloody brilliant…" Lestrade said laughing. "Can't wait to get back to Donovan and Anderson with that one."
Sherlock glared at John. "You're not even trying not to laugh!" He accused.
John shook his head, unable to answer through his laughter.
"Yes yes, it's all so bloody amusing! May we move on now?" Sherlock snapped, his eyes moving from face to face before landing on Molly, who was looking down at the floor, her hands twisting in her lap and her lower lip caught between her teeth as she struggled not to laugh.
Sherlock's eyes immediately zoned in said lower lip, noticing the plumpness and how the pink darkened as she kneaded it with her teeth.
Sherlock's attention was pulled away when he heard a throat clear and his gaze met the hostile gaze of Sergeant Troy. Sherlock smirked and scooted closer to Molly.
"Molly, that's a lovely shade of lipstick you're wearing."
She looked startled. "Oh, I'm not wearing any lip stick Sherlock…"
"Oh, then your lips must be naturally pouty and pink…" He said looking back at Troy and grinning.
Barnaby rolled his eyes. "That's enough from the both of you! This is a police investigation and you both will behave in a professional manner or you both will leave, is that understood Troy?"
Gavin had the decency to look abashed. "Yes sir."
"Sherlock, is that understood? Or shall I call your mother?"
Sherlock paled as the smirk slide from his face. "My apologies, Chief Inspector." Sherlock mumbled.
Lestrade snorted. "Good God, is that all it takes?"
"Yes, apparently so." Barnaby said. "I will be more than happy to provide you with his mother's mobile number after the meeting. May I suggest that you assign her a number for your speed dial?"
Lestrade looked at Sherlock and grinned evilly.
Sherlock returned the grin with a glare. "Could we possible stop wasting time?" He snapped.
Barnaby smiled. "Excellent idea Sherlock."
The meeting took around 2 hours. After the first hour, Barnaby had Troy take Molly for coffee under the guise that she looked exhausted and this was difficult enough for her. After Troy had taken Molly out, Barnaby had gotten down to business, passing around the coroner's reports on her family members, the police photographs, the police reports, and the photographs from the crime scene at her cottage when the message in blood had been written.
"My God Sherlock…her parents and sister were alive…they were alive when he burned them."
Sherlock didn't respond, the synapses of his mind already firing full speed, storing the new relevant information in very specific places of his mind palace.
"And these photographs are the most recent she has received, there's one of each of you." Barnaby said.
"So he's following us?" Greg said.
"Obviously." Sherlock said. "He has been for more than a week now,"
Greg and John stared at him wide eyed. "You mean you knew he was following us? And you didn't bloody tell us?" Greg demanded.
Sherlock sighed in annoyance. "Of course I knew. You know who I am Lestrade. How in the world do you manage even the simplest of tasks in your dull mundane little brain?"
Sherlock stood and began to pace. "He's clever. He's managed to keep his face hidden from me. I have only been able to see the back of him when he turns into an alley way or into a shop."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you? Lestrade accused. "You're enjoying that he's clever. Good God Sherlock, look at what he's done! This is Molly…"
"Calm yourself Lestrade, I know what this man is and I am well aware of the danger Molly is in. I have known for some time. Who do you think has been protecting her before she ran away to the country, hmm?"
"I think I might actually shoot him, John. I've finally had all that I can take. I'm going to bloody kill him." Lestrtade said looking at John.
"Inspector Lestrade, please remember you are in a police station." Barnaby said. "Sherlock I can't say that I agree with your methods. In fact, I find them selfish and dangerous, but perhaps you could enlighten the rest of us with what you know."
"Of course." Sherlock said smiling and taking a seat on the other side of John as far from Lestrade as possible.
Barnaby had been true to his word. Molly had not been allowed to go back to her cottage. Before dropping her off at the hotel where she would be staying with 24 hour a day police protection, Gavin had stopped to collect Toby for her.
He helped her into the hotel room with Toby and the few suitcases she had. "I'll come by later and check on you." He said.
"Thank you for your friendship Gavin. It means a lot." Molly told him. She locked the door after he left and was about to make herself some tea when there was a knock at her door.
Molly sighed. Gavin must've forgotten something. She was so exhausted and wanted to be left alone. She turned back to the door, saying a quick prayer that he wouldn't stay long, and opened the door.
Molly groaned. "I have got to start asking who it is. What do you want Sherlock? I told you that I don't want to talk to you."
"That's unfortunate as I am not going anywhere until you do talk to me. Now shall we have this conversation in the hall or are you going to let me in?"
"Do you promise to go away after you say what you want to say?" She snapped.
He smiled. "If that is what you want."
She stepped back and let him in. He stepped into her room and she closed the door. She turned to see his signature smirk "Would now be a good time to point out that I was lying, Molly?"
"What?" She asked
"About going away when I say what I have to say? Of course I won't go away. I'm here to bring you home with me."
"Sherlock…"
"What? You know who I am. Why does is surprise you that I lied?" He said walking over to the sofa and making himself comfortable. "Do you have any tea or coffee made Molly?'
Molly could feel the anger churning inside of her. She could feel her heart rate and blood pressure climb. She could feel her skin getting hot as her anger began to over flow. Hot tears began to roll down her cheeks. Her small hands clenched into fists. "Get out." She hissed.
Sherlock's face became serious. "No. I'm not going anywhere until we talk."
"Get out! Get out! Get out!" She screamed, her body trembling with her rage.
Sherlock stood and in two quick strides was towering over her. "I. Said. No."
His head reeled from the impact of the slap. Before he had time to recover, she launched herself at him. She began slapping him and pounding on his face, chest, his arms, anything she could reach. Sherlock stumbled backward and fell over the glass coffee table, luckily not shattering it.
She prepared for another attack, but he was too fast, getting off the floor before she had even made it around the table. He stood in front of her again and she attacked.
"Get out you bastard! You hateful, cruel, heartless bastard!" She screamed, her hands going for his face to scratch him. He caught her wrists and before she knew what had happened, found herself pinned against the wall by his body, her wrists on either side of her face.
She struggled against him violently, all the anger, pain, sadness, grief, loss, and loneliness pouring out of her. Sherlock remained silent while she fought against him, waiting for her to tire out. It took only a few more moments for her tears of anger to turn into tears of despair. She fell limp against him and he released her wrists.
She renewed her struggles when he pulled her into his arms, sliding them down against the wall and onto the floor where he held her against him.
"No…I don't want comfort from you…not you…anyone but you…" She choked out through broken sobs. "Let me go and get out! Please Sherlock….just this once…be kind to me…"
Sherlock didn't answer her nor did her release her. He held her against him, stroking her hair until she calmed.
After several moments, Molly pulled away from him enough to wipe her eyes. "Let me up Sherlock, I'm alright now."
Sherlock released her and Molly crawled away from him, putting her hand on the wall to help her stand. She walked away from him and sat on her couch.
"Why are you avoiding me Molly?" Sherlock asked coming to sit beside her on the sofa.
"Sherlock, please, I don't want to talk to you and I don't want to argue."
"You ran away, why?" He asked, "Why didn't you come to me?"
"Why should I?" She asked her voice strangely calm. "All those months I was dying inside and you never once noticed did you? You never bothered to ask me if I was okay. You just tossed me aside when you didn't need me anymore. And I just couldn't…not after losing my family…I had to get away from you."
Molly stood up and stared down at him.
"Why are you even here? Let me guess, no one will work with you, is that it? Mike put you out, has he? Or maybe it's because you feel threatened by Inspector Barnaby and you don't want to risk being out done?" She laughed mirthlessly. "Or is it because you can't stand that I didn't fall at your feet begging for help or because I have other people who are capable of helping me? Is that it?"
She began to pace becoming more agitated as she spoke to him.
"Answer me Sherlock! You wanted to talk, so talk! My God, could you for once in your bloody life just open your mouth and speak? Did you know what happened to my parents? Did you Sherlock? Answer me!" She screamed, her anger overcoming her tears.
Sherlock spoke and his voice was low and calm. "No I didn't know about your parents until you ran away from me and I went to your flat to see what had happened. I found the letter from the solicitor Molly. That's how I knew. But you think I didn't notice the changes in you before you ran like a coward?"
He stood then, moving to stand in front of her, towering over her. "You think I didn't notice Molly? That fake smile you plastered on your face any time John would ask you how you were. You think I didn't notice that you had lost weight and by the way, you're still dreadfully thin. You think I didn't notice the sunken circles under your eyes and the fear in them anytime you heard a small noise or something came in an envelope or your mobile rang?"
He began to walk her backwards as he spoke to her. "You think I didn't notice you trying to mimic me? You think I didn't see that you were desperately trying to become cold and devoid of any feelings? And you know what Molly? You failed! You failed miserably because that is not who you are. You are not cold and aloof. You are nothing like me, nothing at all and no matter how hard you might try, you will never be like me. It's against your nature. You are warm and kind and soft and lovely…" He stopped when he realized he had backed her up against the wall. She was staring up at him wide eyed. He swallowed hard, seeing the confusion, fear, and mistrust in her eyes.
"Get off me!" She screamed, shoving at him again, but he refused to move. "Why are you doing this to me? Why now? I loved you…you bloody idiot! Do you even know what that means?"
"Yes Molly, now I do. I absolutely know what it means, with perfect clarity."
Molly's eyes opened wide, horrified. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare say it Sherlock."
"Why can't I say it Molly?" He asked softly, his lips hovering just over hers.
She turned her head to stop him from coming closer and pushed on his chest again. "I don't need you here Sherlock. Inspector Barnaby is perfectly capable of solving this without any help from you. Just go back to London and leave me alone."
"I can't do that Molly." He said gently turning her face back toward his.
"Why? Why can't you? Is this a game Sherlock? Some sadistic pleasure you get in tormenting me? Do you think it's funny to string poor pathetic Molly along…?"
"Shut up." He said.
"What?" she glared at him.
"I said shut up. You are not pathetic Molly Hooper. You are bloody brilliant and you have no idea what you are talking about. I am not leaving Causton, not without you. And I sure am not going to leave you in the hands of that moron Detective Sergeant. Barnaby might be capable, but Gavin is as clueless as a …."
"Don't say that about him" She said weakly.
"Fine, we'll have to agree to disagree about his level of intelligence, but I'm not leaving you Molly, not ever again." He breathed against her lips before pressing his lips against hers.
Reviews welcome. Thanks so much to everyone who has already reviewed and followed. I have written fan fiction for years under different pen names and under different catagories...I have to say that the Sherlock fan fictioners are the MOST supportive and encouraging that I have ever had. You guys are awesome. Thanks so much!