The Woman Who Counted (A Sherlolly Tale)

Chapter 52

She took a deep breath, Rosie in her arms as she answered the door. She knew who it was, of course. Who else would it be?

The door closed behind her and she kept her voice low, soft. "Hi."

Sherlock gave her a nod, and she returned it. "I just ... wondered how things were going and ... and if there was anything I could do."

Molly chewed on her lip and stuck a hand into the pocket of her trousers, pulling out an envelope. She held it out to him. "It's from John."

"Right." He stared down at it, but before he could attempt to open it Molly stopped him.

"You don't need to read it now." She paused, watching as he looked her up and down, studied her expression. He knew what she was going to say next. Still, it had to be said. "I'm sorry Sherlock. He says ... Jo-John said if you were to come 'round asking after him, offering to help...."

"Yes?"

She bit back her tears and bounced the child in her arms. "He ... said he'd ra- ... that he'd rather have anyone ... but you..." She looked down as she blinked away the tears, softening her voice even more. "Anyone."

She couldn't bare to look at him. Couldn't say anything else to him. She just turned around and let herself and Rosie back inside the Watson home.

If only Sherlock would answer her calls or texts or show up at whatever ungodly hour he wanted. She hadn't heard from him since the day she had to turn him away. Nobody had. He had locked himself up in Baker Street and wouldn't answer the door to her. Mrs Hudson wouldn't either. Phone calls with the older woman told her that she was scared of him, scared of what was happening to him. And no matter what Molly said the older woman just wouldn't let her try to help.

It was all too much.

Rosie had been left in Molly's care and while she loved her goddaughter to death, she just could not seem to catch a break. She understood that John was going through a rough time, but Mary had been Rosie's mother. Molly's friend. John wasn't the only one at a loss. And now, not only was Molly working twelve hour shifts but she had to pick Rosie up from the creche and take her back to her little home, giving her dinner, bathing her, and putting her to bed before having to worry about making dinner, showering, and putting herself to bed. After Rosie was asleep, Molly's nights consisted of box pasta, a warm shower, and either a glass of wine or half a Xanax to get her to sleep.

He wasn't sure what he was. He just knew that there was something in him. Something ... dark. It had always been there, but since Mary had told him to throw himself into hell it had gotten worse. At first, the drugs were for following Mary's instructions, but one day he just couldn't keep himself off of the sweeties. He would increase the dosage each time he felt it: the darkness. That was only his excuse to keep Wiggins from confiscating his source and unfortunately for Sherlock, the higher the dosage the darker he became. His attempts at shutting out the darkness with his sweeties had failed and caused a relapse in his addiction instead.

His whole life this darkness had been inside of him and he hid it from not just acquaintances and colleagues and friends, but from himself. He certainly never talked about it to anyone - not even John - but it was always there. It was like some sort of Dark Passenger and it was backseat driving him up the wall. He was at least half mad, likely three-fourths but what did that matter? With each appearance the Dark Passenger made Sherlock couldn't help but feel sick . His stomach somersaulted, his heart leapt out of his chest, his head constantly ached. Whatever this darkness was, it scared the hell out of him.

The Dark Passenger brought with It repressed memories, ones Sherlock could barely get flashes of. So, despite the sickness and the fear he felt he didn't fight the Passenger. It knew something about him, about his past. Something Sherlock had deleted and he yearned to remember. Perhaps if he held onto his passenger than the truth would be revealed.

Just not today.

"Sherlock, it's Molly. Please, give me a call. It's been weeks. I'm worried about you."

Wiggins set the mobile on the side table and took a seat in John's old chair. God, did everything in this bloody flat have to remind him of John? Sherlock twisted the tea cup around in a circle, contemplating the syringes it held.

"You have to answer it eventually."

Sherlock raised a brow at him, plucking one of the syringes from the cup and waving it in the air before pumping his fist and inserting the syringe into his vein. His arm was beginning to go numb from the rag he had wrapped around it to pop out the vein.

"Sherlock."

He rolled his eyes and pulled the needle out, laying it on the side table and pulling the rag loose. "I have to do no such thing." His eyes blinked, already beginning to feel heavy. he sunk into his armchair, head resting on the back.

"How about I invite her over tomorrow?"

His eyes shot open. "No! No."

"And why not?"

"Because," he sat up, grabbing his mobile and unlocking it, "She can't see me like this. Not yet."

Wiggins raised a brow. "Yet?"

"I've got a plan." He raised the phone to his ear. She picked up after the first ring. "Molly! Listen I'm great. Perfect. Fantastic. Listen, I need to ask you a favour."

"Sherlock, where have you been? What favour?"

"Don't worry about it. And I'd like you to show up at this address with a fully equipped ambulance in two weeks. Have you got a pen?"

Author's Note: It's been awhile. Terribly sorry. School. Theatre. Father's been in hospital. And a backstabbing 'friend' who left me rather depressed and alone. Fun times, basically. 

I'll try to keep up with updates as I always try, but just remember that I have problems outside of the computer that keep me from writing, unfortunately. While I hate it, I think I may have to end this story after 'TheFinal Problem.'Just to get one thing off of my plate, ya know? But perhaps it'll have a nice little sequel someday...I'd also like to say that I stole the idea of Sherlock's "Dark Passenger" from Dexter - an absolutely brilliant show that you definitely should watch!Okay. I'm going to go now. Love you all so, so much and thank you for your patience. xxx-OH