The Woman Who Counted (A Sherlolly Tale)

Chapter 28

            Nothing – nothing could distract Molly from Sherlock.

            Since she arrived home, her mind raced with thoughts of Sherlock’s fate. What kind of work would he be doing when they sent him into exile? And how would it be fatal to him? Would his end be painful?  Would he suffer?

            Molly couldn’t bare the though of his suffering, although it was hard to get rid of. She had to pull herself together before work tomorrow. She couldn’t tell anyone about Sherlock, what he did or how his situation is being handled. She was fine with that. Yes, she believed it would be helpful to talk to somebody about it, but saying out loud was too much. She burst in to tears as she attempted to tell Toby.

            Molly stood up from the floor, having sat there for at least an hour. She held Toby to her chest, and walked over to the sofa, setting him down on it before going into the bathroom to take a shower. As the warm water fell on her face, she closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind. Trying not to think, of course, made her think even more. She asked herself the same questions about Sherlock, even though she knew they would not be answered.

            When she finally pulled her self out of the shower after what seemed like hours and dressed her self, she lay down in her bed, pulling the warm covers over her. Maybe sleep would clear her mind. She couldn’t cry over that man forever.

 --------------------------------------------

            The next morning, Molly awoke late, and rushed to get to work on time, just barely making it. She went through her autopsies and eventually had to do some work in the lab. With all of the thoughts in her head, she felt slow, and she knew she would have to stay overtime to finish her work. She hated being this way, but she had too much on her mind to work at a normal pace.

            After hours of working, Molly was getting ready to leave, so she cleaned up and started out of the lab, stopping at the doorway to the lab’s small break room when the television began to flick on. The screen had static across it, like it was broken, but after a few seconds a picture began to show on it. The side of a man’s face was barely visible through the static.

            And then, the sound came on.

            “Did you miss me?” It was high pitched.

            She gasped and clenched her fists together as the picture cleared, and the man turned his head.

            “Did you miss me? Did you miss me?”

            The man’s jaw began to move up and down, yet not as if he were speaking. His lips trembled in the shape of a smile, and his eyes were bright. The audio played over and over.

            The pitch changed, and went deep. “Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?”

            Her hands went to her mouth as she felt the tears fall from her eye. He couldn’t be back.

 -------------------------------------             

            Sherlock, Mycroft, and a security man stood at the nose of the jet, watching a black car drive onto the airfield. It stopped away from them, and John and Mary stepped out. Mary walked to Sherlock, John following behind him, and pulled him into a hug.

            “You will look after him, won’t you?” Sherlock said to Mary.

            “Oh,” Mary started as they kissed each other’s cheeks. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him in trouble.”