Dead Girl in the Shadows
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Summary: This time he isn't sleeping. This time it's real, and that's Molly, standing before him. Dead.
Rating: T
AU for obvious reasons
Disclaimer: Characters and Sherlock do not belong to me, but to Moffat, Sir A.C. Doyle and all associated thus. I am responsible for creating the alternate universe, the OCs, and the storyline only. Please do not take and use or post elsewhere without my permission.
xXx
Sherlock has taken to dreaming horrible things. Fingers ripping at his skin, lips moving without noise, blood spilling... All of it like slowly losing his mind. Only this time he isn't sleeping. This time it's real, and that's Molly, standing before him.
She's wearing black, a color he's never seen on her before and doesn't quite like. Her dress is thin and satin, rippling in a non-existent wind, while the corners of her mouth pull down as she looks at him, hair hanging down in wispy tendrils. Black tears creep down her cheeks. "Oh Sherlock." Her voice is soft, echoing somewhere between his ears and his brain. "You see it, don't you? See what you've caused?"
When he swallows, it hurts; he can't explain why. His voice is trapped in his throat behind broken promises and failure and caught breath. He has no answer for her because this is his fault. He wasn't quick enough.
She smiles, and it's a heart broken affair. "Yes. You failed this time, Sherlock. The most important time. John can't save you from yourself, from your own mistakes. Mycroft won't look at you after this. Lestrade won't trust you. And me?"
"Molly," he chokes out, hand lifted, outstretched for her. For what? He can't tell.
She goes on like he said nothing. "I'm just dead." Her smile is bittersweet and resigned.
Sherlock takes a step. "Please," he says, and if it sounds like a sob, he will deny it later, if he can. "Take me, not her."
Molly lowers her eyes. "You've killed me, Sherlock."
There are whispers in the shadows, but he pays them no mind, walking closer. "Molly... Take me for Molly," he pleads desperately.
"You're keeping him here, you know," Molly tells him, and his steps freeze in place. Hazel eyes ringed in black look up at him. "John." Her face is full of sorrow. "He stays to keep you safe, because of his guilt."
Sherlock is horrified. The words ring true, and his knees give out beneath him. Molly walks forward, long fingers sliding into his hair and through it. He stares up at her, even as her fingers clutch at his hair, and the whispers get more insistent.
The last piece of the puzzle falls into place, however, as she leans down slowly. "You're not a Wraith."
Molly pauses; then she screams.
xXx
Yeah. I know. Shit be morbid.
This chapter is dedicated to the absolutely delightful NarutoRox, who actually took the time to review every chapter thus far. Thank you so much, honey! You're a gem! Brownies for anyone that can guess what she actually is.