THE WAR INSIDE MY HEAD
I'm in the middle of working on a new installment for Entwined finally… but thought it would be good to post another edited chapter of this one. I think this one is slightly more lighthearted hehe ;) Hope you like it. - day
7.
Sherlock was good at pretending to do things. Human things. If it was any other time he might have decided to go with the way things were going but it still wasn't safe. He hadn't wanted to leave her, yet. Despite her smiles and glances that told him that everything would be fine with due time he found himself in a compass as to what he could do about that. Clearly leaving her in the first place had been a mistake. She was used as bait to bring him back and now he was merely stuck. Besides Moran's arrest, there were still others out there that he needed to make sure didn't try something like this again.
His eyes flitted down to the woman who was beginning to make him question nearly everything. What was he supposed to do with her? Or without her really? She made it seem so easy to be good and normal. That had never been particularly his forte, however.
He tries to put what Molly Hooper was to him in words; but for the first time ever, words failed him. He found himself at a loss for what Molly meant to him-why he had did what he did, why he had said what he said when he called her "love". Words were popping forward in his mind palace, yet he saw it all as a blur. Except for the word Molly.
He snapped out of his head in frustration, only to feel his eyelids beginning to open. He cursed himself as he realized that he just dreamed about a person.
What surprised him more was the fact that he had woken up to an empty bed. There was a smidgen of light coming from the window but it was still fairly early. He sat up with a start, and looked around the room. It looked no different than it had the night before. Besides the blanket that fell off of him as he moved around. Had she left him? Had she actually turned the table on him? His ears perked up at the sound of noise coming from the kitchen. A curse, and louder clanking of metal and such. Sherlock chuckled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly edged his way out of the room. He stuck to the walls as he wasn't sure if it was completely safe. It was daytime now and it was more plausible to have visitors over during the day. He was sure Molly would have found a better way to conceal him however. The sight that he found himself with was a bit more than baffling. Molly was there but she did indeed have company. Another woman. Who was she? He ducked back behind the corner, as the two women continued juggling with the pots and pans obviously looking for something in particular.
He squinted his eyes, and began to deduce the stranger. Close to 40, takes extremely good care of herself, chalk on black skirt, so elementary teacher then. Has the same eyes, mouth and hair texture as Molly, only blonder and taller. Molly doesn't really like her. Probably because her sister has always been "the prettier one", she "the smarter one". Sibling rivalry, not uncommon. Sister asking for money, broke her heel nearby, judging by the splatter. Was about to return it, now she has to pay. Big spender then.
"I'm sorry but I don't really have the funds to spare right now." He heard Molly mutter as she turned away from her sister and opened the small fridge to grab a couple of things.
"Maybe I have a pair you could borrow until the weekend. I should be able to give you some then."
Molly, Molly, Molly always willing to make amends when the thought of disappointing anyone surfaces. He couldn't see it on her face for he was hidden again, it was in her tone. Her hesitance to let anything happen to her sister. Despite her irritation with her.
"Mom has been blowing up my phone, Molls." The tightness of her sister's voice was something Sherlock expected from her appearance but it still threw him off guard. She was the opposite of Molly. "What happened last night? She said that Mrs. Lewis called her after all the noise that the police and those men in black came through."
He heard Molly sigh. "It's nothing, Leslie. I'm fine. Tell her to stop worrying, or better yet not send you to do her dirty work. I have a phone." Sherlock frowned at the tone in Molly's voice. He had never heard that before. "I'll get you a few pairs. Size eight, right?"
"Yeah."
Before Sherlock could think about moving, he hadn't wanted to really… Molly had turned around the corner and bit down a gasp at the sight of him. She continued walking towards the room, despite the look he had already given her.
"What's with the gasp Molls? Should I come?" Leslie asked, beckoning forward to follow her.
"NO!" Molly yelled, panicking a tad. "No, erm, just a lizard, but it scrambled away. No worries. You know how I freak out over these pesky creatures. Here are your shoes."
Leslie took the pair of black flats from her sister, her face slightly scrunched up at the idea of her mismatched outfit. She sighed it off and put them on, then began to head out.
"Thanks. I love you Molly, but you are really weird."
A small giggle elicited from Molly as she led her sister out the door and then she turned back around, locked the door and let out a sigh. Phew, that was really freaking close. She ran a hand through her hair and looked up at the peeking Sherlock who was leaning around the corner where he had just almost been caught.
"What am I going to do with you?" she mumbled as she walked back into the kitchen, decided that she really still wanted that French toast.
Sherlock stood up and walked to Molly. Molly did a double take at the consulting detective who was leaning into her face as close as a man could. She recognized the eyes; he was looking at her as if she was a case, one of his puzzles.
"You're... Interesting, Molly Hooper." He concluded finally as Molly face burned from the heat that had risen onto it at his minute-long stare.
Molly cocked her head slightly, then asked mechanically, "Should I say thank you?"
Sherlock chuckled at that, leaving Molly blushing even more.
She was being completely serious. Should she? When he said things like that she wasn't sure if he was actually complimenting her or what. Not that she thought after everything that he was capable of that again. Who exactly knew Sherlock Holmes? John Watson, some would say. His brother, more than most but Molly found herself confused about the things he's done since he saved her from that Moran. He was still very much himself he just did and said things that either she didn't agree with or she would never ever thought would fly out of his mouth.
She composed herself, smiling a little at the notion that she was interesting to him…even a little bit. She wasn't doing anything differently. What was he seeing, now?
"What are you laughing at?" Molly squeaked, feeling awfully self-conscious of herself at the moment.
Sherlock looked at her with an amused stare, and said in a cheeky tone, "You cut people up for a living and yet you are afraid of lizards. You disapprove of your sister and hate how your sister calls you weird just because you are smarter than her yet you tolerate her to such an extent. Such an extent that even John wouldn't allow himself for Harriet. You, well, you have a problem, Molly Hooper."
Molly's mouth drew into a line. She looked away from the all-seeing eyes of the former detective suddenly feeling uncomfortable. She's always felt that way around him. Never knowing how to go about defending her choices before, now however she felt like she could. Just this once at least.
"Thanks for point that out, but yeah. Everyone isn't like you or John or your brother or whatever. Not everyone is willing to degrade someone to make them feel good about themselves despite how nice it would be. It would be easy to tell her that but I choose not to because she's my sister and that actually means something to me."
Sherlock didn't say anything for a brief moment once Molly was done with her small defense. She took that as it her cue to let him be. He needed to simmer on his thoughts and she really needed to take a shower. She felt unclean now.
Molly locked the bathroom door and hung her towel neatly on the hook next to the shower. She felt conflicted. In the span of hours, her world took a 180 degrees flip only to flip back to complete normalcy. She let the hot water run her thoughts out of her mind as she allowed herself to get lost in her emotions.
It took her some time before she realized the bathroom door has been unlocked, with Sherlock sitting on the toilet next to the shower with only the thin, translucent curtains between them.
Molly froze for about three minutes before she could even think about doing anything. She was in the middle of lathering her hair with shampoo and it only took her to feel the burning in her eyes for her to jump back into action. She dipped her head under the water, wincing as she tried to get rid of all of the soapy mess that had slipped down onto her face. While at the same time calling out to Sherlock.
"I came in here for a reason you know. The door was also locked for the same exact reason. This is a bit much, Sherlock."
She ended slowly trying not to remind herself that he could probably see her naked clad body right now or at least her silhouette. That thought didn't make her happy; it made her feel very tense.
Sherlock pursed his lips, he did not have a single clue why he was so vehemently bent on entering at that very moment. Or why he couldn't wait to say the things to make things right with Molly.
"I've upset you," he began, only to be interrupted by a very still and stiff Molly yelling, "OBVIOUSLY". He ignored her burning anger and continued, "I apologize, I want you to know that I mean it, and that I needed you to know that."
Molly remained still but kept the yelling, "REALLY SHERLOCK, NOW?"
"Yes. If I chose any other time, I fear it might be wasted. You've been thinking about it and while you're angry with me, I feel that-"
Sherlock didn't get to finish his sentence as Molly pulled back just a small bit of the curtain, her head peeking out. Her hair sopping wet and glaring right at him.
"Sherlock as much as I would love to hear you weasel your way out of being an ass to me about my life, I am in the middle of showering. I want some privacy…to be alone for the moment. Would you mind…no…just get out." She stated, each word coming out through gritted teeth. The steam that was surrounding her made her point that much more plausible.
"Right." He stated, blinking as he made a move to leave once Molly was hidden behind the curtain once again. He was making it worse.
He huffed, as he reached the door. "I only say those things because it puzzles me, how you respond to such negativity with such cheeriness even if it isn't real. Sorry for disturbing your private time, Molly." His hand twisted the door knob and he was gone.
Molly whispered to herself as the door shut close, "Well, at least now I know it's not exactly complete normalcy." She cursed Sherlock under her breath before continuing her bath.
Sherlock leaned against the wall opposite the bathroom door. His head was spinning with confusion. He was usually gone by this time, off to finish off what he started when he "fell" months ago. Yet there he stood, seconds ago before a naked Molly silhouette, he gulped at the recollection. Something was wrong with him.