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sherlock stormed into saint bartholomew's. it was a freezing saturday morning in london. even in the morgue, you could hear the rain sloshing from outside. it was so cold, if you spoke, you could see your breath float way from you in a gray mist.
"molly?" sherlock called out in a firm tone. "molly?" he looked around for her, taking in the repulsive smell of dead bodies and the faint aroma of her perfume. sherlock barged into the women's bathroom. "molly!"
"sherlock?" she called from the back stall.
"i need to speak with you- immediately."
"i'm in the loo, can't it wait?" she sighed. only sherlock would run into a ladies restroom and demand to talk at once, regardless of one's situation.
"i'll be outside." he replied, stomping out. he slammed the door as he left, the end of his trench coat dancing behind him. in a few minutes, molly came out of the restroom to find sherlock standing over a microscope, peering attentively into the lense. she walked over to him, seeing that he was deep in thought. his eyebrows were scrunched together and fingers lightly tapping the smooth counter top. his lips were tightly pursed together and there was a glimmer in his eye that only a tough case could put there. eventually, he broke the silence.
"he's back." he said.
"who?" molly starred at him in confusion, slightly tilting her head.
"no other than the napoleon of crime, of course. it was so stupid of me to think that he wouldn't find his way back. i just don't know how he wiggled himself out of something this deep." molly still was confused. sherlock glanced up, sensing molly's uncertainty of who he was referring to.
"moriarty!" he shouted, as if this was a known fact and molly was the dumbest person alive. "i need you to help me, john is still a bit cross with me after, well, you're aware of what." a knot formed in molly's stomach. while this was a once in a life time opportunity, the danger involved would make any sane person immediately refuse the offer. she looked down at her shoes and bit her upper lip. she knew she couldn't ask for time to consider, but she also knew saying no is something she'd never forgive herself.
"i'll do it." she said, a bit shocked that she had even agreed.
"fantastic." sherlock exclaimed with only the slightest hint of enthusiasm. he ruffled his hair and began to walk out.
"wait!" molly cried. sherlock turned, his hand on the door knob. molly grabbed her coat and ran towards him. "i'm coming with you."
Chapter 2: tea time
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"where are we going?" molly asked. her nose red from the cold as her hands sit softly in her pockets. the rain was still pouring down on them, and a small, black umbrella that sherlock held kept them from being soaked.
"221b first, then perhaps mycroft's. in a case like this, we'll need his assistance, however minor it might be," sherlock responded briskly. molly struggled to keep up with him, he had a faster pace and much longer legs than she. eventually, they arrived at his flat. sherlock trotted up the staircase, with molly not far behind. he unlocked his door and they entered. "fancy some tea?" he inquired with a friendly nod.
"sure, thanks." molly responded.
"mrs. hudson!" he called out, while taking a seat in his favorite chair. before molly had time to respond to sherlock's chamomile or early gray query, mrs. hudson opened the door and popped her head in.
"what is it, dear?" she asked.
"make molly and i some tea."
"i've said it before and i'll say it again- i am not your housekeeper!" she said sternly. she slammed the door and stomped down the stairs.
"pity." sherlock said as slouched down in his leather chair. soon, his phone began to ring. it was lestrade. "yes?" sherlock asked, sounding annoyed.
"new information on moriarty, you've better meet me. you're gonna wanna see this." sherlock hung up his phone.
"change of plans; we're meeting lestrade. the game is on!" he quickly got up and left. molly reluctantly got up and followed him out the door. within the hour, they arrived at the scene. sherlock briskly handed the cab driver forty pounds as he left the car, with molly on his tail. lestrade soon saw them and met them by the caution tape.
"triple suicide by slitting of their wrists; normally i wouldn't call you out on a case like this but the security cameras tell a different story." the house in front of them was ginormous. it had old, white, pealing paint with dying hedges, like a small, sad row of dying soldiers the front lawn. there was a stone pathway that led up to the door. everything glistened in the drizzle, and the smell of death became evident as they stepped over the police tape. lestrade glanced at molly.
"what are you doin' here? don't cha have work?" he asked her.
"technically, i do. i just--"
"she's with me." sherlock interrupted. "but that's not what matters. what's so perplexing about suicide footage that the police couldn't solve it? have they really become so dependent on my brilliant mind to solve the simplest of cases? "
"you better just see for yourself." lestrade responded. they approached the house where a police officer stood outside the door; his walkie talkie spewing useless information in a croaky voice. as they walked in, they saw a front room furnished in white couches and rugs. old fashioned chandeliers hung directly from the roof. numerous dirty stained glass windows were positioned around the circular room. right above the brick firewood. spray painted in black across the top of the fireplace, the words: "miss me?"
Chapter 3: the game is afoot
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"huh." sherlock said. he walked closer to the wall and frowned, caressing the spray paint.
"careful. it's a crime scene, can't touch anything." anderson said as he walked in. "hi, molly. what are you doing here?"
"that's none of your business, anderson!" sherlock yelled. "why is he a forensic again?" sherlock asked lestrade.
"after the empty hearse ended, i reapplied and got the job." anderson smiled.
"why would anyone ever hire you back again?" sherlock uttered.
"why would molly be accompanying you?" sherlock turned away from anderson.
"you mentioned cameras." he said.
"cameras?" lestrade questioned.
"yes, cameras! you said it was a triple suicide but the cameras told a different story. what was on them?" sherlock asked in frustration.
"oh, yeah. follow me." he walked out of the room. sherlock and molly followed him to the stairs. they walked up the curvy, carpeted, off white, staircase. upstairs, they saw an fbi agent looking around a bedroom.
"can we get a few minutes here?" lestrade softly said to the agent. he nodded in response as they walked inside. the room had a queen sized mattress with a crumbled up gray patterned comforter and golden throw pillows scattered across the unmade bed. north to the bed stood a flat screen with security footage on pause. lestrade grabbed the remote. "this is about thirty minutes before abigaile spencer, benjamin reverah, and sophie ayrshire killed themselves. we don't know what happened during this time that convinced them to kill themselves, but here's what we do know." the video began to play. it showed all of them in this bedroom watching the telly, but then the screen went black.
"hello sherlock!" moriarty appeared on the screen. "so sorry to hear about you and john. how long will the wedding be delayed? with mary's death and all considered, i expect a rescheduled date by the end of next month." the video cut out to show moriarty shooting himself on the rooftop with sherlock. it began to repeat before lestrade stopped it.
"and it goes on like that for a while, by the time it goes back to normal footage, the kids've already bled to death."
"maybe they were killed and it was made looked like suicide!" molly interjected.
"if i hadn't already thought of that the second i heard of the case, i'd be applauding you." sherlock said to her. molly frowned and took a seat on the edge of the bed.
"maybe i'd be of more use examining the bodies. i am a diener, after all."
"it's no use, they'll be sent to saint barts after and you'll probably get them anyways." sherlock said, dusting his coat off. molly nodded in response.
"got anything?" lestrade asked him.
"about eleven concrete theories, but still thinking. where are the bodies?"
Chapter 4: miss me?
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sherlock pulled out his magnifying glass as he fell to the floor. he observed the corpses, lifting up articles of clothing and smelling certain pieces of cloth.
"who's house is this?" sherlock asked lestrade, putting his magnifying glass away in his trench coat pocket.
"sophie's father's house. he was away on a business trip."
"any history of mental illness?"
"uh, yeah." lestrade began, "sophie was diagnosed with depression when she was ten, and both of the other victims had self harming behaviors."
"any belief in a superior power, or worshipping actions?" molly asked.
"not that we know of."
"it's simple," sherlock said. "this was clearly suicide, and has everything to do with moriarty. molly, ice cream?"
"oh, uh, yeah!" she responded, smiling as she bit her lower lip. they began to walk away when lestrade stopped them,
"bloody hell, i called you on this!"
"yes. it's too easy. simply figure it out yourself."
"typical..." he murmured as he walked away. molly's mind was going a mile a minute- was ice cream code for something? were they going on a much more dangerous case now? or were they simply getting ice cream on a rainy day? whatever it was, it put her on edge. and sherlock could tell.
"you're upset." he said.
"i'm sorry?"
"you're upset about something. you weren't before. i'm guessing you're upset about ice cream, which is probably due to three things. a, you've gone on a vegan diet. b, you simply hate ice cream; or c. you think ice cream means something else than the normal definition. but, on further consideration, you carry yourself like you're embarrassed. vegans have more hop in their step. i think the tofu does that to them. after all, if you were vegan, you would simply get sorbet and wouldn't think so much of it. it clearly isn't b because who in their right mind hates ice cream? so, to ease your worries, by ice cream, i simply mean ice cream."
"oh." she responded. "okay." the rain poured down on them, and without sherlock's umbrella to protect them, they shortly became drenched. the day was rainy and cloudy; by no means a day for ice cream. in fact, on a day such as this, it'd be more likely for ice cream shops to be closed due to lack of business. eventually, they arrived at an ice cream shop. it was empty, except for the employee standing by the register counting small amounts of cash. they waked in it the shop, a little bell above the door rang as they entered. the man behind the cash register looked up at them straight in the eye and smiled.
"did you miss me?"
Chapter 5: because
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"moriarty..." sherlock murmered as he began to approach him.
"ahahah." moriarty said, pulling out a handgun. "you're smarter than that. i decide the rules." sherlock cautiously took a step back, protectively pulling his arm in front of molly. in fear, she tightly grabbed his arm.
"you've moved on i see." moriarty chuckled. "first john, now molly? you sure do get around. maybe i should be upset that you're dating my ex, but we all know i don't swing that way." he winked at sherlock. his eyebrows clenched together as he glared at moriarty.
"what are you doing back?" molly asked.
"glad to know i'm welcome!"
"you aren't." she said with a clenched jaw.
"whatever did i do to deserve this?" he exclaimed sarcastically, swinging his gun around. he pulled the trigger as a shot fired at the wall. "oops!" he laughed manically. molly screamed as the gun went off.
"why are you here?" sherlock asked.
"ooo! glad you asked. a master plan; too great for you to even fathom."
"is that so?" molly interjected. moriarty nodded with a childish grin.
"wouldn't dare to even begin to enlighten you." he grimaced. "now if you'll excuse me..." he said, walking into a back room. molly ran after him, worried he was trying to escape. sherlock swiftly grabbed her arm.
"are you out of your mind? he has a gun!" he whispered harshly.
"let me go!" she groaned, as she forced his arm away. she ran to the back room and stood hesitantly by the door frame. the room in front of her was no bigger than a closet. it had a carpeted floor and musky smell; oddly reminding her of her father. it was clear there was no moriarty. she glanced up at the ceiling, and saw a small window. just big enough for him to squeeze through.
"he's gone." she called out to sherlock. she frowned at the open window. a dangerous man was on the loose in london, and she couldn't help but feel responsible.
"that's not important." sherlock said. "what's important is you're safe; you don't know what he's capable of." molly starred at him, puzzled. was sherlock showing the slightest hint of humanity? did he really care for her? she pushed the thought out of her mind; lord knows how many nights she's spent obsessing over her affections for him.
"are you alright?" she asked. sherlock was clearly beside himself, and she couldn't stop herself from caring.
"molly?" he said.
"yes?"
"why do you put up with me?"
"because..." she paused, hesitant to say. "because..." blood rushed to her cheeks and her palms became sweaty. her legs began to tremble with fear, worried that her next words would spoil everything. but she knew in her heart, she couldn't keep it in much longer. her eyes filled with salty tears as she looked up at sherlock with a forced smile. "because i love you."
Chapter 6: jeff hope
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sherlock looked down at molly.
"i know." he said. he began to walk out of the ice cream shop, the bell ringing as he opened the door.
"wait!" molly hollered at him. "what's that supposed to mean? you know?" sherlock turned to her and smiled.
"i've always known." molly stomped her foot as she rolled her eyes. who the hell did he think he was, she thought to herself, but then remembered he was sherlock fucking holmes.
"you've always known." she mumbled sarcastically as she followed him out of the shop. it was no longer raining, but everything still smelled sopping wet. molly had no idea where sherlock was going to lead her, but at this point, she didn't care. sherlock stepped into the street and waved down a taxi.
"221b baker street." sherlock said as they got in.
"no problem." the driver said with a smile. "nice to see you again, mr. holmes." sherlock glanced up to the rear view mirror to see none other than jeff hope, the taxi driver serial killer from a study in pink, his first case with john.
"john- john shot you." sherlock said, almost at a loss for words. the killer smirked as he revved the engine.
"not everyone who get's shot dies."
"get out." sherlock grumbled. "molly, get out!" he yelled. the car had already started, and was quickly picking up speed. sherlock grabbed her and jumped out. they roughly fell onto concrete road. sherlock's back hit the ground as the cab drove off.
"are you alright?" sherlock groaned.
"yeah... yeah. i'm fine, are you?" molly asked him.
"clearly." he stumbled up, rubbing his back.
"who was that?"
"a very dangerous man." sherlock responded, walking away with a bleeding forehead. molly ran after him, allowing him to gently lean on her for support.
"where now?" she asked.
"where else?" he smiled. "baker street."