THE WAR INSIDE MY HEAD

Hello again. Another smallish chapter for you. I'm a bit tired and under the weather right now (fever) and I have to go to work in the morning but I hope you enjoy this. - day

8.

He could only recall two instances that he hadn't deleted that he felt this way. He was having trouble deciding why that was and why he didn't just walk away now. She didn't want to see him and he had the perfect solution for that. He could walk away, delete what had happened and it be over with. He would see her soon. He would come back when the time was right. Something was holding him in his place across from the door where she occupied a small space. His eyes veered from the door to down the hallway. Maybe if he took a brief moment of air outside he could clear his head. Yes, that's what he would do. He walked down the corridor, to Molly's room and entered, walked over to the window and peered down at it. There was no one there. This would be safe and he'd be able to come back later. Yes, this was a good plan for now.

When Molly finished her bath, she instantly noticed something was different. She wandered around the house to allow Sherlock's disappearance to sink into her. She sighed at that, wondering whether she had chased him off after all the yelling. She ignored that thought, concluding that she is sort of angry with Sherlock at the moment. She looked at the time, still too early for work. She then decided to unearth her diary from the back of her shelves. She needed to write all these feelings out somewhere.

Once she finished scribbling down every thought and event that had passed her mind the past couple hours, she found herself tearing up. It had been a roller coaster emotionally and it was really starting to hit her. Sure, she was still a bit peeved at Sherlock for being so him but she knew she also couldn't blame him for being himself. It's what he does best even if it's not such a welcome thing. Especially when it comes to her. She tucked the small leather bound book away again, before looking at the time again. She needed to head out now. That had taken more time than she had thought. Hopefully her boss wouldn't be too pissed with her for being a little late. She needed to get back to the normal part of her life if only for a few hours. In the back of her mind she mulled over what she could be possibly have to deal with next.

Sherlock appeared out of nowhere next to Molly as she stepped onto the road. Molly look at him incredulously, then hissed loudly, "Are you mad? Nobody should see you. You're dead!"

"My dear Molly, do you think I'll allow it?" He proceeded to hail a taxi, then explained, "I'm escorting you to work."

Molly frowned at that. "Sherlock, you've apologized. I accept your apology. Now go back into hiding like you did before."

"Nonsense, I'm not going to risk another Moran incident, not anymore."

Molly glared at him for a moment before letting out a huge sigh. "You're unbelievable, you know that? I'm not a china doll. I can very well take care of myself."

She told him as he opened the door of the taxi and gestured for her to get in before sliding through himself. Molly told the cabbie to head to Bart's while also turning her attention back to her companion who she thought would have gone by now. "Once I get out of this taxi, you need to go away. As much as I appreciate your concern I don't need to be worrying about you being found out. Don't you have much more important things to do than look after me?"

Sherlock was looking at her with the most unreadable gaze. She prided herself as of late of breaking those looks down to one thing or another but when it was directed specifically at her, she wasn't sure how to decode it.

"Stop looking at me like that. I'm really not that fascinating, rather dull actually. The most I've ever done was help you," she whispered as she turned to look out the window at the passing streets.

Sherlock pursed his lip like how a five-year-old would when denied of his candy. Molly knew that he was holding something in, an insult probably. She shrugged her shoulders to his unwavering stare.

"Stop it!" she said, her voice almost shrieking, as she smacked Sherlock's face away from hers. Sherlock gasped at the sudden attack from the mousy pathologist, his hand cupping the cheek she laid hands on.

"YOU'RE unbelievable," he huffed, looking away from her sorry gaze.

Molly didn't know what came over her. She was just so stressed out.

"Sorry." She mumbled as the taxi came to a stop.

She reached over the seat to give the cabbie her fare and ducked out. She hoped he would heed her request for him to go while he still could. Her heart was going to plummet if she had to endure anymore of this. There was so much a girl could handle before she truly cracked into little pieces. The stitches wouldn't hold for much longer.

Sherlock remained in the taxi. His former frown beginning to loosen up as he started to laugh silently at Molly's outburst. He smiled at how she never fails to surprise him, in a good way. His grin widened at the thought of how special she is and yet she does not have the slightest clue.

"Molly Hooper... She's an odd species, Mr. Holmes?"