Hi guys, this is my first attempt at a Sherlock fic, any comments are greatly appreciated :)
Chapter One
The silence was utterly deafening. The phone had gone dead as soon as the words had left her lips, and had lain, still illuminated on the countertop as she had slid to the floor, legs collapsing underneath her own weight. Molly had been staring at the patch of floor in front of her, back stiff from being pressed into the dishwasher door, bottom and legs numb from remaining unmoving on the cold kitchen tiles.
Her day had been less than abysmal before she had spoken to him. After performing autopsies on four children, all who had died in a house fire started by their father for insurance fraud, she had excused herself to the bathroom for an extended period of time. Death was not something that usually bothered her, but children seemed to strike a different chord, particularly when their demise was meaningless and avoidable. After pulling herself back together and finishing off the remainder of her paperwork she had headed home, intent on drowning herself in wine.
And then she had spotted her ex – fiancé Tom, a slim and pretty, young golden – haired woman on his arm, her sweet and charming voice floating across the road as they laughed together over to Molly as she eyed her full lips and breasts, slim legs and obviously very pregnant stomach. Her chest had been tight as though she were being slowly squeezed through a tube too small for her and her breath stilled as he seemed to notice her suddenly, waving enthusiastically with an almost cruel smile upon his face. She flushed from head to toe and gave the smallest flicks of her fingers before scurrying away, head bent low, all thoughts of wine melted from her mind as a sense of jealousy and embarrassment flushed through her.
Before the call Molly had been leaning heavily on her sink, the weight of the day pressing into her, exhaustion and a melancholic shadow bearing heavily over her as she had tried to find some sense of stability. Her heartbeat was slow now, her breathing shallow, their words repeating in her head on an alternative loop,
'I love you…'
His voice and then hers in reply. Over and over again. Their tones, the volume, all the emotion carried through them. The thought made bile rise from her stomach and up her throat, burning as it went, but she was unable to turn the record off, the loop continuous and unforgivingly relentless.
'I love you…'
She had called his bluff, standing up to his mockery and demanding he play her game for once. Despite his initial hesitation and slight stutter, he had complied, the words forced and stretched, foreign to his mouth and her ears. It sounded like the hardest thing he had ever had to say, not only to her, but to anyone. She heard him take a sharp breath, and say it again, the words more free this time, more comfortable and less fearful. As though he was repeating a successful trial run of a mundane lab experiment. The change in his tone had stunned her into silence, her throat dry and scratchy as she had realised, she would need to hold up her end of this humiliating bargain. She was both baffled and mortified at the phone call, if not a little hopeful, for all the good it did her. The weight in her chest was now heavy leaving her feeling as though she were drowning, gasping for air that was just out of her reach.
And then he had said her name, desperation filling his tone in a way she had rarely heard,
'Molly please!'
He was begging her. And that's when it finally sunk in. Something was urgently wrong, and he was unable to tell her what it was. She needed to comply with his request, and without delay.
Swallowing her pride and desperately sucking in every ounce of air that she could, she breathed the words back to him,
'I love you…'
And she was instantly cut off. Kept in the darkening wilderness of her repeating mind as the passage of time became inconceivable. Even Toby had abandoned vying for her attention and slunk off in search of comfort elsewhere, leaving her alone and in shock.
Her mobile phone sprang to life, vibrating loudly in the stillness of the evening, startling her back into reality. Her eyes flicked to the counter above her where it lay, just out of sight, and she swallowed thickly, dread washing through her and rippling over her skin. Reluctantly and stiffly, she pushed herself onto her feet and stood, eyeing it gingerly as Greg's name flashed onto the screen. Relief flooded her being and she reached for it with her cramped hands, hesitantly unlocking it to answer,
"Hello?"
"Molls? You okay?" He sounded out of breath and stressed,
"Yes. Of course. Perfectly fine," She responded with a less than enthusiastic tone, having become unaware of how hoarse her voice had become during her reticence.
"Molly, look I'm sending someone round. Don't move until they get there." He was rushing even more now, as though it was physically exerting him to speak to her. "Don't worry. We're pretty sure it's nothing, but need to know for certain-"
"Where is he?" She cut across him and it sounded as though Greg had temporarily lost the ability to breathe as silence filled the air. "Please?" He let out a long sigh and Molly made her way towards her living room to sit on the sofa, pulling an annoyed Toby into her lap. He hissed at her agitatedly, but she paid him no heed, instead listening intently for Greg's reply,
"Sherlock is fine, so is Mycroft. John…He's seen better days but will be okay," He was being cautious as to not give her details, she could tell as much from his demeanour and choice of words. No one would been able to tell her what was going on and her body shrunk into the plush cushions at his response, her brows furrowing together harshly.
'It must be bad…They wouldn't keep it from me otherwise...Surely…' She thought dismally before resigning herself to drawing in another deep breath,
"Okay. I'll wait," And without allowing him to respond she ended the call, throwing her mobile sideways without a second thought. And there she remained, lost in thought and stroking a now contented Toby who purred in her lap until Sally Donovan burst through her front door. How long it had taken her to arrive since she had last spoken to Greg Lestrade, Molly couldn't say, but from the look on her face and her hairs even bushier appearance than usual, it couldn't have been long. She was almost on the same level as Greg at Scotland Yard, so whatever it was had to be serious for her to be first on the scene with at least half a dozen officers rushing in behind her and rapidly dispersing throughout the flat.
"Molly!" She gasped, pulling her to her feet and dislodging Toby in a fury of hisses and claws that Molly was barely able to contain. "We've swept the rest of the flat, it looks clean, but I'd rather get you out of here until we're absolutely certain," She rambled, Molly nodding dumbly and following her silently into the hallway and then out into the crisp evening air, Toby scampering at her heels to escape the intruders.
Japan's Arc Angel x