"Get your possessions together and we will leave on the next train. There is a car waiting for us outside." Mycroft waved his hands at Molly as he left. "I'll take care of him." Dr. Erikson motioned to the sullen Sherlock "You go get your things."
"Mycroft this is ridiculous. I don't need some nurse to take care of me." Sherlock yelled as he staggered towards the car, leaning on Molly. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"Need I remind you of the summer when you were twelve? You got sick and refuses to get out of bed." Mycroft yelled back, getting into the car
"I had pneumonia." Sherlock snapped, as Molly slowly helped him into the car.
"You wouldn't stop complaining"
"I was dying."
Molly gave a small smile and turned back to the hospital. She was going to miss it there. Sure, working with dying soldiers had some down sides, but she really liked some of the people there. Dr. Erikson had become almost like a father to her and he always made sure she was ok.
"Are you done reminiscing or shall we make camp?" Sherlock asked, his tone condescending.
"I'm done" Molly replied, getting into the car. As they drove off, she watched as the home she had known for almost three years disappeared into the distance.
After they had safely gotten on the train and settled Sherlock into a position that was as comfortable as possible, he had quickly fallen asleep. This left Molly and Mycroft to discuss the particulars of her duties. Mycroft promised to open a bank account for her in town and just deposit her money straight into it. When he told her the amount that he was planning on paying her each month she thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head. "That…that will do just fine Mr. Holmes" she replied feeling flustered.
Mycroft gave her a sincere smile "I thought as much." He turned to look at the window and Molly took this as a sign that most of their journey was going to be spent in silence. She settled into her and was soon drifting off to sleep.
"We will be there shortly." Mycroft said, as he climbed into a nice looking car. They had gotten off of the train and were met at the station by a driver. Apparently, Mrs. Holmes had gotten wind of her son's condition and insisted that their private driver get the boys from the station. Molly had tried not to look so shocked when she realized that she was not going to some little cottage or small house as she had previously expected. 'What have I gotten myself into to?' she thought as she got into the car.
'I should like to warn you, Ms. Hooper, that my mother can be something…of a handful" Mycroft said, trying to put it delicately. "I'm sure she will take to you instantly, but don't not be offended when she is blunt."
"She'll insist on buying you new clothes, of course. She can't you running around in the rags you have now" Sherlock told her.
"Rags?" Molly turned to him, trying not to feel too offended.
"Of course rags" Sherlock scoffed "You're an orphan. There is no way that you actually own a decent piece of clothing. Everything you have is old and used; probably doesn't fit you correctly either. We can't have a heathen running around our house. We have a reputation to uphold."
"Sherlock" Mycroft warned when he saw the hurt look on Molly's face "It's not like they will be many of Mummy's friends around for miles."
"What do you mean?" Molly turned to Mycroft.
"We can't go to London; too many bombs being dropped there. We have a summer home in Norwich-"
"Yes I understand that" Molly replied simply "I know we are in Norwich…I just didn't realize that you all live far away from each other."
"We own five hundred acres. Most of the wealthy own at least that. Our manor is smaller than some but we have the most land. It's quite well known between the richer of the country" Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I suppose a person of…more common birth wouldn't know that."
"No I wouldn't." Molly replied. There was a moment where Sherlock and Molly just looked at each other, in some kind of battle of wits. The moment passed, however, and everyone went back to staring out the window.
"Sherlock, my darling!" Molly watched as an elegant, white-haired woman came running out of the door to grab Sherlock in a bear hug. "Hello Mummy" he mumbled into the woman shoulder. Molly tried to keep her mouth from opening in shock at the sight of the house. The front yard was larger than the orphanage she had spent most of her childhood at. There were stone steps leading to the large front doors. There was three stories of tan bricks with many windows spotting the house. Molly could hear the sound of water trickling somewhere behind the house, presumably a fountain. Flower boxes dotted the lower windows with every assortment of flower Molly had ever seen.
"And this must be Ms. Hooper" Mrs. Holmes said as she let go of Sherlock and caught sight of Molly. She faltered slightly and soon composed herself. No one else took notice of it. "It's so wonderful for you to be here. We will have to go to town tomorrow, of course, to get you some new dresses and skirts."
"Oh no ma'am, I can't let you do that for me."
"Think nothing of it." Mrs. Holmes waved her hand. "Now, Sherlock, I'd like to discuss some things with Mycroft, privately. I'll have Ms. Hopper take you up to your room to rest. Should I have one of the servants draw a bath?"
"No mother, I shall be perfectly fine." Sherlock said as he stumbled his way through the front door. Mrs. Holmes ignored him and called for one of the servant girls to make sure a bath was ready for him. Sherlock gritted his teeth and began to make his way towards the stairs. Molly set her bag down with an apologetic look to Mycroft and Mrs. Holmes before jogging to Sherlock.
"Here let me help" Molly said bringing his arms around her shoulder.
"I don't need your help." Sherlock snapped, trying not to lean on Molly.
"Ok" Molly said, not changing her position at all. When they came to the stairs, Sherlock tried to wrench himself free from Molly's grasp with little success.
"We're going to take it one step at a time" Molly said quietly, feeling as Sherlock leaned heavily upon her as they went up the step.
"I know how to climb the stairs!" Sherlock snapped. This cycle went on until they were about halfway up the stairs.
"I don't know why you insist on helping me. It's idiotic. I don't need any help."
"Of course you don't" Molly replied calmly, refusing to let go of him. Sherlock huffed in annoyance. Slowly they made their way to the top of the stairs. When they got to the top Sherlock inclined his head to the right. "Room's down that way". Molly nodded and slowly made their way to the door. A girl servant appeared from behind the door and gave a squeak when she found herself face to face with Molly.
"The bath is ready Master Sherlock" she curtsied and scampered away.
"I don't know why you insist on helping me." Sherlock grunted as they made their way into his room. "Because I'm an idiot" Molly replied, setting him on the four poster bed. "Now, do you not need my help with the bath too?" Sherlock look up at her slight smile and gave her a glare.
Unknown to both of them, Mycroft and Mrs. Holmes had watched the whole affair.
"She may just be to handle him" Mrs. Holmes smiled. "She is going to surprise us, I can guarantee it."