It had been almost two weeks since she moved in. He had mixed feelings about suddenly having her in his mind palace, but right now he hated it.
Sherlock’s eyes scanned over the various pictures, maps, newspaper cuttings and notes that were pinned to his wall. The dials in his head were turning, but they just wouldn’t click.
“Dogs bark. The noise disturbs the neighbors. Suddenly, they are poisoned with household pesticides,” he mumbled to himself as tried to connect all the events of the previous weeks. “The O’Malleys’ business is discovered. One of them is poisoned by his sleeping pills. Not much later, Phil drunkenly vandalizes a farmer’s shed. His brakes are cut and he gets into an accident.”
He closed his eyes. Entering his palace. Obviously, someone had decided to start to play cop in this little village. Controlling the inhabitants, by (nearly) killing them. But who? And how could he be so successful? What was the connection between these events? To know the criminal, he needed a connection…
“You’re slower than I thought, asshole.” Molly, in his mind palace, shocked him out of his concentration. Sherlock could see her perfectly, walking the stairs between ‘Survival techniques’ and ‘Poisons’. The sight of her brought him back to last Friday; Him bursting out of the classroom, leaving Molly in the doorway. His eyes flew open. It had had nothing to do with her. He would have skipped Chemistry anyway, he just needed to deliver their report. There was also no other reason for her to show up in his head, except for… for…
“Ooh, Sherlock….” He could hear her say, even though he had left the spaces in his mind.
“Out!” He yelled , while he picked up a book from his desk and hurled it at the wall.
‘Smack!’ it went and fell on his bed. Taking deep breaths, he tried to contain himself. He knew he losing control and he couldn’t stand it.
“Sherlock?” Suddenly a voice came from downstairs. “Is everything alright up there?” His father.
“Yes dad, everything is great!” He reassured his father in his sweetest voice, hoping that he would accept it as the truth. Unfortunately, footsteps were already coming up the stairs.
“Sherlock,” his father began while he peeked his head through the slit of the door. “What is going on up here?” As his father walked into his room, Sherlock noticed he was still wearing the Christmas sweater his mother had given to him. It was February, for god’s sake.
When Sherlock didn’t answer his father continued, while he sat down on the bed right in front of his son; “I can tell something’s up. You’ve been acting strange all weekend and-“
“Did mom tell you to talk to me?” He interrupted his father, while avoiding looking into his concerned brown eyes.
His father shook his head a little and admitted with a faint smile; “She did. So, is she right? Is this about a girl?”
In that moment, Sherlock wished he had been born to a different mother. For once in his live he didn’t go out of his way to conceal all the clues and immediately not only she, but the entire family knew what was going on.
He sighed, still pretending to study the pictures above his father’s head and answered; “I guess mom’s starting to slip up. Like I said, everything is fine. Perhaps, I just ate too much of that cranberry pie of hers.”
“You know, Sherlock. If there is one thing I learned from that brilliant pie-baking mother of yours, it is not to be afraid. “ He launched into a probably rehearsed speech, dismissing Sherlock’s answer. “Boy, was I scared to ask that woman. When she finally agreed, though, I fell for her immediately. And that terrified me, because how was I ever going to spend my days with the most sharp-minded and sharp-tongued individual I’d ever met? I remember telling myself over and over that I shouldn’t love a girl like her. Yet, I did and look where we are now. So when you get your chance, Sherlock, don’t be afraid to take it.”
After his father had finished speaking Sherlock made a fatal mistake, he looked into his eyes. Overflowing with tenderness, they pleaded him to be honest with himself and his father. Deeply buried feelings suddenly hit him in the chest and he knew his father’s words had been spot on.
Even though he was reluctant to admit it, he was afraid. Terrified even, of the fact that Molly had been able to see right through him. Somehow she had discovered the secrets that he kept, even from himself. All the years of trying to hide all that he kept inside – to be fully control what others got to see – disappeared when she was around. Because when they were together, the roles changed and Sherlock was no longer the only shrewd observer around.
“Ahem,” Sherlock’s father cleared his throat and Sherlock realized he had been staring blankly at the wall for several minutes. Feeling slightly disoriented, he tried to concentrate on his father who slowly got up from his bed.
“I also had something else to ask you. We’re out of milk and your mother wanted to bake an apple pie, so could you go by the supermarket en pick some up?” He asked with a smile, like nothing had happened.
“Sure.” Sherlock answered and immediately ran down the stairs, leaving a stunned Mr. Holmes in his room. With a spinning head and a family that would only make it worse, getting milk had suddenly become an interesting prospect.
When Sherlock arrived at the supermarket, he was ready to murder someone. On the way he had tried to regain control over himself, hoping that stowing away some of the feelings would help him think clearly again. Unfortunately, Molly would not stop running through his mind like a maniac. Throwing over the interior in her way. He really didn’t need this right now, there was a murderer to be caught!
Sherlock navigated through the maze of shelves, passing the garden section and the tools section, to finally reach the milk aisle. He looked for the milk his parents always bought (marveling at the utter stupidity of having over fifty different kinds to choose from, when really they were all exactly the same), while trying to ignore a rather large lady who was speaking loudly into her cellphone. She was having a heated argument with her husband about eggs. Sherlock comforted himself with the knowledge he had just acquired that she would be divorced within a year and would probably not live to see 61.
Having found the right milk, he started to move away from the lady and towards check-out. When he joined the long line at Lane 5, three loud boys in the line that were around his age caught his attention. They were loading up matches, bottles of lamp oil and rope . To some these might seem like random groceries, but Sherlock knew the moment he saw it that the boys were going to have a bonfire. A very big bonfire. Sherlock stepped sideward to catch a glimpse of their faces and when he saw he immediately felt a sharp pang in his chest. It was David with two of his friends.
Even though the beep of the scanners at check-out and the other costumers were creating a lot of noise, the three boys were making themselves perfectly audible.
“This is going to be sick!” The tallest friend said excitedly.
“Haha, yeah. This is going the be legendary, bigger than any other year,” the brown-haired friend replied.
“So, do we all have a cover?” The tallest – and according to Sherlock the thickest – friend asked in reply. Somehow, this question made the two boys turn towards David.
“What?! I can’t help it I don’t have a girlfriend or a younger brother who goes to our school,” David told his friends defiantly. Sherlock was certain now that they were going to do something very illegal. Something they would need an alibi for.
“Yeah, but did it work out with that girl? Morgan or something,” the brown-haired one asked David, obviously trying to mock him.
“Molly,” David answered, while Sherlock froze. They were going to use her. Sherlock cursed himself for not noticing something when David had asked Molly out. He had let himself get distracted.
“And I haven’t told her anything yet. I’ll take her to the dance and at 10 I’ll make up some story about why I have to leave and tell her to make everyone believe I was with her the whole night. She’ll do it, probably just to brag to her friends. Seriously, why else did you think I asked her? Girls like her are desperate, they’ll do anything.” David continued with a triumphant smile, obviously very content about his little plan.
Sherlock felt his heart start to beat wildly, but not because of the boys’ secret plan. No, he could no longer lie to himself. He had never felt so jealous or so angry in his live. And he knew all too well, it was because of her. Standing there in the checkout line a thousand different ways to deal with this situation ran through his head. He could go out of his way to ruin David – and someday he probably would – but that wouldn’t help the girl that kept running through his mind. Suddenly, Sherlock remembered his father’s words and he knew. This was his chance and he wasn’t going to be afraid.