"You'd think, being a nurse, you would have more experience with the male anatomy" Sherlock smirked.
"Just take the towel" Molly said as she handed a large, fluffy towel through the partly closed door to the bathroom. She made sure to stare out the bedroom window so there was no way of seeing anything, even though the door was barely open.
"I still don't understand why you insisted on staying outside the door." Sherlock replied, his hand brushing hers as he took the towel. Molly retracted her hand faster than she thought possible, bringing it to her chest. She could feel her cheeks getting warmer and busied herself with finding Sherlock some clothes. "I could have fallen and hurt myself. Bathtubs are very dangerous" Sherlock tried to sound like he was teasing her, but it really just came out flat. He stared at the white bathroom door, trying to figure out why she would flinch away from him.
"Just get my pajamas and my dressing gown" Sherlock said as he dried himself off.
"Your brother said that you would be expected downstairs for dinner. He said that you had to look presentable." Molly replied, confused.
"Just do as I say."
Molly gave a sigh and pulled out a pair of pajamas; white with blue stripes.
"Leave your shirt off. I have to bandage your chest again." Molly said to the white bathroom door as she picked up a blue dressing gown from the floor. Sherlock rolled his eyes and snorted. "I don't see why you have this ridiculous notion that I am some damaged puppy in need of help."
Molly didn't respond and just handed the clothes through the door. Sherlock soon appeared, stepping through the door and sitting down on his bed. Molly got the medicine and applied it to the cut on his chest. She gently poked his side trying to check for broken ribs again. Sherlock stiffened and grunted when she began to poke harder.
"Sorry" she whispered backing away slightly. She slowly finished wrapping his chest and when she was done, she took care of his leg. Sherlock watched as she fretted over him, enjoying the way her eyebrows creased as she assessed the damage to his body. Her lips would move slightly as she mouthed what she was finding. He could see as she assessed how long it would take it to heal, the exact way the debris must have hit him to give him the injury. He was shocked when he found that he was smiling. He hadn't genuinely smiled in years, and this girl whom he had known not even known for a day had brought a smile to his face.
"Do you need something for your head?" Sherlock heard Molly asked quietly. He shook himself out of his own thoughts and looked down to see Molly staring at him.
"No. The pain has ebbed enough." Sherlock replied, not taking his eyes off of Molly. Molly tried to tell herself to stop staring at Sherlock, but to no avail. She wasn't sure how long both of them stayed where they were when she heard a knock on the door. Molly jumped up and walked over to the window. Sherlock cleared his throat. "Come in"
The same servant from before entered and curtsied. "Master Holmes is expected in the dining room." The girl began to walk out the door when Molly called after her.
"Um…Master Holmes is not in the condition to be going up and down the stairs. Tell Mrs. Holmes that I will be down to collect some food for him." The girl nodded and gave one last curtsy before leaving the room.
"Why did you do that?" Sherlock asked.
"You really are in no condition to be moving too much" Molly replied "…besides, you were trying to make your brother angry by showing up in pajamas." Molly said the last partly quietly, worried about the way Sherlock was going to take it.
"Am I really that obvious?" Sherlock smiled leaning back onto his bed.
Molly just gave a small smile. "I'll go get your food."
Molly walked into the kitchen to see an old woman running around grabbing the food for diner.
"Here, let me help you" Molly said grabbing a large, silver tray with potatoes.
"I'm here to bring some food up to-"
"To Sherlock, of course. I already sent someone up with some food. I expected it wouldn't be good for him to come downstairs"
"Oh…well I'm Molly"
"I know who you are sweetie" the woman smiled. Molly retracted slightly, giving a confused look.
"Word travels fast in this house" the woman explained. "I'm Mrs. Hudson, the cook. And you are Molly Hooper, the nurse that's been hired to take care of Sherlock."
"Lovely to meet you." Molly smiled.
"You've got your work cut out for you. Once his wounds start healing, the whining will begin. He hates being uncomfortable." Mrs. Hudson gave a small smile as she reminisced. "I remember once, when he was about five-years-old, he fell down and skinned his knee pretty well. Not a tear came out of his eyes, but dear God did the boy complain. 'I can't think like this, Mrs. Hudson' he would yell. 'Make it better this instant!'" Mrs. Hudson let out a laugh. "I swear that boy will be the death of us all."
Molly gave a small laugh. "I consider myself warned."
"Ah, there you are Ms. Hooper. I wondered where you were." Mrs. Holmes smiled as Molly entered the dining room behind Mrs. Hudson "And I see you've meet our dear cook" Molly nodded and set down the food on the table that was already laden with food. There was more food than Molly had ever seen and she had to try hard not to let herself droll.
"You are dismissed, Mrs. Hudson." Mrs. Holmes interrupted Molly's thoughts, and she watched as Mrs. Hudson walked back to the kitchen. "Molly dear, I thought you would eat with us."
Molly nodded slowly and took a seat by Mrs. Holmes, noticing that Mycroft was at the head of the table.
"Now tomorrow we'll take the car and get you fitted for some clothes. I can't have you running around in a dirty nurse's uniform, dear." Mrs. Holmes said as Molly filled her mouth with some turkey. She swallowed and slowly responded "Really, I can't let you do that. There's no way I can repay you."
"My dear" Mrs. Holmes took her hand "You are here taking care of my youngest son, who I was afraid was never going to come back to me alive. You have already repaid me in every respect. Besides, I always thought it would be fun to have a daughter."
"Thank you ma'am…thank you very much."
Hours later Molly was laying in her large, four poster bed. After a quite dinner, Mrs. Holmes had led her to her own room. Molly had felt her jaw drop at the beauty of the room. She had seen Sherlock's room, but she never expect hers to be of the same quality. Her room was had dark hardwood and a large area rug covering the ground. Her bed had a baby blue duvet and crisp white sheets. Her minimum amount of clothes was set in a beautiful wardrobe and she soon found that she had her own bathroom.
'This must be a dream.' Molly thought to herself as she felt herself falling asleep 'This is too good to be true."
Soon, however, she was awoken by muffled screams. She slowly got out of her bed, making sure she got to the door without falling over anything. When she opened her door and rub the sleep out of her eyes, she realized that she had no way of lighting her path. She gave a sigh and slowly made her way down the hallway. Thankfully, the servants had left some of the window blinds open, so she navigated most of her way by moonlight. She was down the hallway when she realized that she was walking to Sherlock's room. She began to run, realizing exactly what was going on. When she came to his door she swung it open and ran over to the bed. She could see, by the light of the moon, Sherlock writhing in his sheets and clutching his pillow.
"Sherlock!" she began shaking him "Sherlock wake up! It's just a nightmare!"
Sherlock groaned and shot up, grabbing Molly's hand in a death grip. He was breathing hard and he could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He looked up to find Molly staring down at him, her eyes large in concern. He noted that her hair was in a braid, parted to the side. 'It looks good like that' he found himself thinking. Her nightgown was obviously passed down to her, seen in the yellowing color and the random stains.
"It's okay. It was just a nightmare." Molly said softly, running her thumb over Sherlock's clamped hand, trying to soothe him.
Sherlock gulped and turned his head away from her.
"Was it about the war? Something like what happened when you were injured?"
Sherlock's head shot back to look at her, shocked that she could guess something like that.
"So it was. Anything else?" Molly asked, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Sherlock just stared at her. "You aren't going to talk about it are you?"
Sherlock gave her a small smile that soon disappeared as he began thinking about the nightmare again. It had all been so real.
"Okay…" Molly let go of his hand and thought for a moment "Would you like some tea?"
"What?" Sherlock said, breathless.
"Well, whenever I had a bad dream, I would sneak downstairs at the orphanage and make myself a little cup of tea. It always made me feel better."
"So you're trying to help me avoid my problems by making me drink tea."
"It's either that, or I can keep asking about your nightmare. Your choice."
"I'll be right there."