It wasn't long when Sherlock and John returned to the flat, but when they spotted the police parked in front of the building with lights on, Sherlock's heart grew cold with dread. The taxi stopped and the two quickly climbed out, paying the driver, and hurried to police with the detective taking the lead. "What happened?" Sherlock demanded, trying to remain calm.
"Bit of a break-in," a young cop answered. "Lestrade's inside."
Sherlock sped walked to the door and up the stairs with John at his heels. If something happened to Molly, he would never forgive himself for leaving her alone. He burst through the door to find Molly holding the baby and talking to Lestrade. "Oh, thank God," he heavily sighed, approaching her and taking his girlfriend into his arms. He cupped her face and looked her in the eyes that were red with a tear-stained face. "Are you alright?" He ran his fingers through her hair and deduced no visible injuries.
She gave a small smile and quietly answered, "I'm fine."
"What happened?" John asked, getting the detective's attention to the inspector detective.
"There was a break in and Miss. Hooper was… A bit in danger," Lestrade answered, glancing at the woman.
Worry pulsed through the detective's veins. "What does that mean?" He coldly asked, turning to Molly.
"If Mrs. Hudson didn't call the police…" Her voice faded as her eyes began to fog up.
He held his girlfriend tight as John took the baby from her arms, allowing her to get close to his chest and bury her face in his shirt and softly wept. "He busted through the door and I grabbed the baby and ran to the bedroom. He demanded to know where you were. I locked the door to grab the gun and he said if I didn't tell, he'd shoot the door down and would kill me." She began to sob harder as she placed her face in her hands. "He said that you were going to find me dead." She broke down and he held her tight.
Whoever did this, would pay dearly.
"He got away before we showed up," Lestrade replied softly. "Guess he knew we were coming."
"No," Sherlock stated coldly. "He had second thoughts." He took Molly's wrists and looked down at her. "Why did he leave?"
She looked up at him with pain-fillled eyes. "H-he got a text."
"A text?" Lestrade repeated, taken aback.
Sherlock eyes slightly raised at the answer, but didn't show his surprise as he remembered that he sent a test to Mycroft around that time. "Do you know what he looked like?"
She shook her head. "He was wearing a black hood, but he looked really sinister."
"Do you think he'll come back?" John questioned, still holding the baby.
The detective looked at his friend, slowly releasing Molly's wrists. "After what happened? No. It's my turn to find him. He is quickly losing his patience." He turned to Lestrade and pulled out the photo of the woman. "Have you seen this woman named Emily?"
He shook his head. "No."
Sherlock said nothing as he walked to the wall and pinned it back up. "Lestrade, you and your men are done here." He stepped back, staring at the photo.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," he answered coldly, still staring at the picture.
Lestrade began to round up his men and walk out.
"John," Sherlock called, not looking at him. "Return home. Your wife and baby need you. Could you take the orphan with you after what happened?" His voice dropped, "Now is no place for an infant."
"Are you-"
He looked at him with a emotionless gaze. "Yes."
The doctor hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Fine." He pulled out his cell phone and dialed his wife. After a quick conversation, he hung up. "Mary said it's fine."
"Of course she would," the detective stated as if the answer was obvious as Molly handed him the baby.
"Call me if you need anything." He gave a quick kiss on Molly's cheek and began to head for the door with baby in hand. "Night."
"Night," Molly called, then the door closed.
Sherlock returned his attention to the photo as Molly stood beside him, joining him in the photo staring. "He was looking for you."
"Yep," he replied, popping the 'P'.
"He said that it wouldn't be enough for him for you to find me dead."
"No. He wants to kill me and hurting you wouldn't satisfy."
"Still didn't find the mother?"
"No. Emily is her name, though."
She took a small breath. "I'm actually glad you weren't here."
He looked down at her with wonder.
"He was determined to kill you," she continued as she didn't look at him. "I knew if had the chance, he'd-" a tear rolled down- "I feared that if you walked in…" She bowed her head, trying not to cry.
"You afraid I didn't stand a chance," he gently finished for her.
"I kept hoping that you weren't coming home soon. I always worried that you wouldn't return home, but this time if you did…" she looked up at him with fear.
Sherlock sadly smirked as he placed his hand on her cheek as she placed an hand over his and held it, refusing to let him go. "I wouldn't go down without a fight," he told her as he leaned forward. "I'm just glad that he left. If he didn't," he looked her in the eyes, "my heart would bleed." He passionately kissed her with her arms around his waist. The thought of finding his girlfriend dead was shoved from his memory as he just savored the taste of her lips. She was alive and her heart was beating. He kissed her neck, over the jugular feeling her nervous pulse. He could sense that she was relaxing, relieved that her boyfriend was home and that they were both alive.
"Sherlock," she whispered as he held her close. "What are the texts-"
There was a knock on the door, breaking them up. "Come in," he called, starting to remove his coat and scarf that he forgot that he was still wearing.
The door opened to a shaken Mrs. Hudson. "Oh, thank goodness you're home. I heard the commotion upstairs and I knew it couldn't have been you," she explained as he walked over to the coatrack and hung up his coat and scarf. "I was hoping you would come home soon and you did just in time." She walked up to Molly, taking her hands. "How are you, dearie?" She began to look around the flat. "Where's the baby?"
"John took him home tonight."
"That's for the best. I was worried for both of you."
"Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock sighed, looking over at the landlady, "we just had a break in and a long day, so could you-"
"Of course I'll go make tea," she said with an innocent smile.
Sherlock rubbed his hand down his face with annoyance.
"He meant was," Molly kindly smiled as she wrapped arm about the older woman's shoulder, leading her to the door, "I nearly died tonight and need to spend sometime with my boyfriend."
"Oh, I got it. Want some alone time after having a near death experience," she smiled knowingly as she gave small wave of the hand. "Want to show how important you are to each other, I see?"
"No, it's jus-"
"I understand completely." The landlady took the door, ready to walk out and smiled slyly at the woman. "I suggest making it romantic for the occasion." She then walked out, closing the door behind as Molly just stood there, staring at the door with puzzlement.
"Well," Sherlock began, placing his hands behind his back. "She always gets signals mixed up." He looked down at the floor, then back to her. "Molly, there's something I have to-"
"Damn right there is, Sherlock," she began coldly, looking back at him with frustration in her brown eyes. "First, there was calling from your bother, then, you thinking about a case, and then this happens!" She stormed up to him, her eyes not breaking the gaze. "What is going on?" She demanded.
"Someone wants to kill me," he loudly announced with annoyance. "I didn't want to tell you, until I knew more. There was a murder this morning that had my name written in blood on the wall," he hissed. "He sent texts to my brother, telling him messages to send to me. One was a code on the 18th of July, I am to meet him on top of St. Bart's." Frustration and irritation was fueling his blood. Already this man killed someone and nearly killed his girlfriend. He need to find the killer and soon!
Dread over came her eyes. "Another suicide?" She whispered with fear.
"I hope not, because I already did that. The second time gets boring," he grumbled as he walked couple of paces away. "No, this is something else, but I am going to learn that in eight days."
"What if he comes back?"
"He won't." He looked at her over his shoulder. "You'll be ready if he does. While I am out at night, I want you to carry the gun with you to every room just in case. I want you to have your phone on you at all times," he ordered as he looked back in front of himself, then relaxed. "I nearly lost you once, I don't plan to lose you again." He hardly said that to his girlfriend, but when he did, he meant it and she knew it.
Molly wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back. "Tell me next when something like that happens. Tell me about the cases. Especially if someone wants to murder my boyfriend." Her voice fell to a whisper at the end.
He knew that she was trying not to cry as she gently took a small breath.
Sherlock lightly sighed. "No one is going to murder me," he stated lowly. He wouldn't be surprised if it did happen, but he wouldn't let it happen.
"How do you know?" She whispered. "How do you know that you won't end up like one of your cases? How do you know that I won't have to examine your corpse?"
"Do you want me to quit my job?" He asked with confusion.
"No, I don't want you to quit," she hissed as she released him. "I want you to tell me what is happening," her voice grew louder. "I want you to tell me what danger you are in."
"I don't want to worry you," he snapped, trying not to lose his temper.
"I'd rather know, so I won't be surprised to find a bullet in your head!" She began to cry.
Her nerves are shot, he told himself. Kept secrets of murderer, break-in, attempted murder… That is sensitive to some people. "I'll tell you about cases from now on," he quietly told her, making her stop sniveling and listen. "I won't keep anything from you anymore. I promise I won't die." He looked at her over his shoulder. "That last one I intend to keep."
Molly approached him, wrapping her arms around his waist and held tightly as he did the same to her. Words didn't need to be traded to know what they were feeling. Sherlock knew that she was hurting, scared, and worried. He was going to protect her, no matter what happens and he wasn't going to keep any case away from her again.