Sherlolly Oneshots

Little Monster (Victorian!Lock) P2

"Y-You what?"  Molly stuttered, unable to take her eyes off the boy, or thing, or whatever it was.  Kieran looked at her with wide, blue eyes and the only thing that Molly could register was the fact that they very well might not be his own.

Sherlock spoke softly, as if Molly was a skittish deer, "I made him, Miss Hooper.  In my lab in the basement."

Kieran took a step towards Molly, who didn't hesitate to step back.  She finally tore her gaze from the creature, meeting Sherlock's.  She was surprised to find that the look in his eyes quite matched how she supposed hers looked. 

"Kieran," Mrs. Hudson called softly, waving the creature over to her.  Kieran looked at the older woman and made a move towards her. 

The next few moments happened quicker than Molly could register.

First, Sherlock made a step towards Kieran, who had become nervous from the tension in the room.  Kieran looked back at Molly, moved closer to her, and Molly's grip on her common sense snapped.  She took off towards the door, desperate to escape this manor of horrors, however Sherlock apparently was much quicker than she.

He caught up to Molly just as she was reaching for the door, slamming his hand down on it beside her head and wrapping the other around Molly's waist.  She spun around to face him, her eyes wide and clouded with fear. 

"Miss Hooper just listen to me-" Molly jolted to the side to try and escape but Sherlock held onto her tighter.  "Please just listen.  Kieran had a mother, he did.  He was called Will then.  But when he was young, about three years ago when he'd first learned to walk-"

Molly brought one hand up to try and push Sherlock away, however, once again his reflexes were quicker.  Sherlock caught her wrist with the hand wrapped around her waist and pinned it above her head, still talking as fast as he could.

"When Will had first learned to walk he left the manor once without anyone noticing.  He wandered out to the barn.  It used to be an old cotton factory, you know, and so at the time the machines-"

Still wild and skittish Molly tried to use her free arm to push Sherlock away once more.  And, once more, this only resulted in her other hand pinned to wall and Sherlock pressing closer, desperate to finish his story.

"The machines were still in the barn, Miss Hooper.  One caught his eye and he wandered over and started fiddling with the knobs.  He pulled some lever that brought something down and then..."

Sherlock trailed off and Molly stilled.  The sharp featured man was no longer looking at her, more rather through her.  His mind was elsewhere, lost in memories too horrific for Molly to even imagine. 

"And then what?"  She had hardly even recognized she'd said it.  Sherlock was snapped out of his thoughts and when Molly looked up she saw his frosty eyes were glassy with tears.

"He died.  Will died.  I was heartbroken, of course, but my wife," Sherlock gulped and released a shaky breath, "was far beyond help.  All day she just sat in this chair.  In the forbidden room.  There's this window that has a view of the moors and the town down below.  And she just sat in that damned chair all day.  Wouldn't eat.  Wouldn't sleep.  Wouldn't talk or drink or smile ever.  She- she didn't do anything."

Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  Molly couldn't practically feel his pain, like there were knives slowly cutting him open and he couldn't do anything about it.

"One day she just died.  I walked in the room and she was gone," Sherlock's hands fell from Molly's wrists down to her waist, "I didn't even know what I was doing.  I dug up Will's corpse, he was missing a few... parts.  I sewed him back together and there was this big storm and..."

It was then when Molly noticed he was shaking.  Trying to hold back tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.  Eyes that had seen too much.  The sadness on his face had to turned to something that looked like either disgust or remorse, Molly clouding tell which, as he continued.

"I brought him back to life, Molly.  I didn't think it would work, hell, I'm not sure now that I was thinking at all.  I was just so- so mad.  At everything.  It was like going crazy was keeping me sane.  So I prepared everything, fully expecting this not to work on a million years.  But then the bolt hit the pole and there was a flash and Kieran opened his eyes."

"Kieran?"

"It means darkness.  I didn't bring Will back to life- I created a monster from the rubble and ashes of my sanity.  From this darkness I didn't even know I had," Sherlock paused, looking at the ground.  The remorse turned to a sheepish sort of sadness, "didn't even know I have."

"Sherlock..."

"I'm sorry for keeping you here.  Mrs. Hudson has been getting old- yes.  To be honest I'm not quite sure what I'm thinking anymore.  I'll do things for some reason thinking it's perfectly reasonable and look back after and am not able to recall a single sane reason for doing it."

"Sherlock."

"You weren't supposed to see Kieran.  We called it our "little game".  Like an elongated version of hide-and-seek.  I suppose it was inevitable that you and him cross paths at some point but-"

"Sherlock!"

"Yes?"

Molly brought her arms up, wrapping them around Sherlock's neck and pulling him closer.  He was taken aback at first but almost immediately leaned into Molly's warm touch, his arms wrapping around her waist as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"I'm staying, Sherlock.  I'm staying with you and Kieran and Mrs. Hudson and that cursed cat."  Sherlock let out a laugh that sounded a bit like a sob.

"We had to make things believable," he said, his voice cracking as he half laughed into Molly's skin.  Tears were now flowing freely. 

"I know you did," Molly whispered.  They held onto each other for a moment longer until a voice interrupted.

"Papa?"  Sherlock backed away from Molly, turning around to see Kieran stepping from the darkness, his eyes wide.  Molly noticed he did look a bit like Sherlock, with his wild dark hair and icy blue eyes.  The stitches and bolts were becoming less frightening.

"Kieran," Sherlock said, falling onto one knee and scooping the boy up when he'd made his way over.  Kieran eyed Molly curiously, Sherlock's shirt balling up in his tight fists.

"Kieran, this is Molly."

The boy nodded, "mama."

Both Sherlock and Molly stiffened and Sherlock awkwardly cleared his throat. 

"Molly."

"Mama."

"Mo-lly."

"Ma-ma."

Sherlock sighed and shot Molly an apologetic look.  She smiled and ran a hand through Kieran's hair.

"That's alright, Kieran," she whispered.  Molly could feel Sherlock's sharp gaze on her as she said, "mama it is."