Chapter Text
Mary was in two minds whether to wait for Sherlock or to run after Molly. Since that horse (or mare) had already bolted, she waited till the detective arrived. Until then, Mary rushed below and using Mrs Hudson’s phone, informed Dr Shastri of what had happened.
“And this happened when you were at Sherlock’s place? Was he present?” the professor asked.
“He just stepped out for a minute and she was gone by the time he came back.”
“Uh oh. From what you have told me, she was most reluctant to spend time with him. This usually happens with the person most influential in the victim’s life. Mary, all I can say is we have less time than we thought!!”
XX
They were able to track Molly using the CCTV network, watching her as she walked ,her feet carrying her faster than normally possible. People parted ways to let her pass, a small glimpse at her now dreadful expression enough to make them get out of her way. She turned this way and that, making following her extremely difficult. Mycroft was watching the scene from his car when he got a phone call from one of his technicians.
“We traced the path she’s taking. The letters M-I-H-E-L-P-N-E were formed.”
Mine – interspersed with Help.
He conveyed the information to the team on the road, which worried as well as gave Dr Shastri hope.
“She is fighting but the being is angry enough to claim her. This level of possessiveness has been seen only in the last stages of possession, if we may call it that. We have to reach her soon.”
What the good doctor omitted to say what that the general conclusion of that stage was rarely positive.
As they neared her they all planned to, if needed, wrestle her down in one place when they reached her, but suddenly, before anyone could even understand what happened she stopped. Right in the middle of the footpath by a secluded portion of Regents Park. She could’ve been a carved statue for all the movements she did.
Cars screeched and doors were slammed as the team approached her. Mary and Sherlock were the first to reach, keeping a safe distance as Molly seemed to stare straight ahead into nothingness.
It was their proximity that made them notice the change, see her eyes go completely black for a moment. The small smile on her face sent shivers down Mary’s spine, and she noticed that Sherlock wasn’t unaffected either.
“Hello Sherlock,” Molly softly said.
If the detective had been uncomfortable earlier, he positively blanched at the words. There was a beautiful smile on her face now, she looked absolutely peaceful but her voice was ugly, to say the least.
“Hehe, don’t like sharing this moppet do you? Well, you played with her long enough…now it’s my turn.”
“I never played with her,” he rasped out. “She isn’t a play thing.”
“Is that so? Let me try… she won’t even feel a thing.”
And then Molly screamed…the most blood curdling sound he had heard in his life. She stopped suddenly as she had started.
“Oops, I lied.” And then she smiled, ugliness now dripping down those lips.
Despair. That was one word that described how Sherlock felt. He didn’t know then, but the emotion was shared by everyone who was within a certain radius of the now stationary Molly.
“Focus!” Dr Shastri’s words sounded in his head. “Connect. Communicate.”
“She is - you are my friend Molly. I need you.”
“Molly doesn’t believe you. You know what she thinks? She thinks she is the back-up plan for everyone, the plan B, the stand in. She is always at the back of the line…especially for you, Sherlock.”
Sherlock frowned, “That’s ridiculous, you don’t know what you are talking about.”
Molly face twisted as she screamed in pain yet again, stopping just as Sherlock and the others took a step near.
“You tell a lie, I punish her.”
From somewhere within, Sherlock found the strength to remain calm and answer. “I am telling the truth. Only lies have details and histrionics.”
Molly screamed yet again, this time bending over. She whipped up straight just as Sherlock approached nearer, looking paler than earlier. But this time what he saw gave him hope. Just before her eyes turned black, just after she stopped screaming he had seen brown eyes stare back. Begging for help, beseeching him while trying to hide a cherished look.
She had peeped out from under the being’s control.
“I tell the truth and yet you punish her. This isn’t a fair trade,” Sherlock spoke calmly, his outward appearance belying the turmoil within.
He received a terrifying smile in return.
“I do what I want. Though I admit, this one is fighting back. I like feisty broodmares.”
“She isn’t a broodmare.”
“She will be…soon. Just like the others were. She is trying to fight oh! but thoughts are such a beautiful weapon. All the despair they can cause, make one feel so lonely, so unwanted, so small…it’s almost too easy.”
This time when Molly threw her head back, instead of screaming she laughed out loud. But he heard then… that little hidden sob underneath that demonic voice. He knew then that she could hear him, that she was not giving up. And there was no way that Sherlock could give up too. There was a sparse audience around now, the general public having been cleared and only members of Dr Shastri’s team and his friends around him.
There was nothing to left to lose…not when he was about to lose it all.
“You know you are wanted. You know how important you are.” Placing his hand on his heart, Sherlock quietly said. “You are here, have always been here. And you’ve known it to be true for quite some time.”
“Stay away Sherlock. This one is mine,” she snarled.
“Listen to me Molly, you know what I said is true. You’ve always known it,” he pleaded.
It happened so suddenly, there was hardly any time to react. Molly flew at Sherlock, her hands clawing at his neck, her mouth twisted in an ugly snarl, madness peeping through her eyes.
“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare try and steal this broodmare from me. I see you, you fucking moron, and I won’t let you take her away from me.”
It took all of his strength to pry away her fingers from his throat, air reaching his gulping lungs after a struggle as he held on to her wrists.
The moment he did that, he heard Molly’s voice plead, “You are hurting me Sherlock.”
But he didn’t budge, which angered the being even more. This time though, Sherlock was prepared and he was able to twist them around, straddling the now thrashing woman while trying to hold her hands by her head.
In that same instance, Dr Shastri was setting up her equipment of electromagnetic transponders around the wrestling couple. As soon as the switch was pulled, they lost all lights around, the bodies on the footpath being bathed in a blue light instead. Sherlock felt an electric pulse go through him where he held Molly’s hands. Try as he might, he could not hold on and had to let go.
Molly convulsed, was almost lifted off the floor before she collapsed as the transponders seemed to vibrate with a certain energy before they all sparked and it all went dark. There was no sound, no movement before the lights came back on to illuminate the extraordinary scene right outside of one of London’s most popular parks.
Molly was convulsing on the road, her mouth frothing slightly but her eyes…they were her own eyes and not the black emptiness that had been staring back at them all the while. Sherlock rushed to her, turning her on her side to prevent her choking on her own vomit. She was then put on a stretcher and rushed to Barts in the waiting ambulance, Mary accompanying her and Sherlock.
“You should get those scratch marks checked,” she gently told the consulting detective who could not take his eyes away from the now unconscious woman on the stretcher.
“I have many things to do Mary, these scratches are the least of my concern,” he replied.
“I agree its about time. But a tetanus infection is a pain you don’t want Sherlock, take it from someone who has been through it.”
It was then that he finally looked at and met Mary’s eyes.
“How did this happen, Mary? Have I been so selfish? Have I relegated her so much that she was such an easy prey to…whatever that was?”
Mary smiled a sadly, “We’re all culprits here Sherlock. We all took her for granted.”
“I just hope there is a chance to make amends,” he said quietly.
There were no more words exchanged as the vehicle rushed to the nearest hospital.
XX
It was three days before Molly gained enough strength to be able to receive visitors. She had injuries to the back of her head where she had convulsed on the road, along with several scars on her back. She had a sprained back and a twisted ankle, along with a severe sore throat and a constant headache. But overall, she seemed fine.
She wasn’t surprised in the least when her first visitor turned up looking almost as battered as she felt. Gesturing him nearer, she held his hand as he sat on a chair by her bed.
“I’m sorry, Sherlock,” she whispered.
He just shook his head, too many emotions jostling at the familiar look on her face. He knew now that all the while he was half-heartedly trying to make her feel better, while they all were trying to make her feel included, she was fighting an internal battle with a thing that was way too powerful than anything he could explain. There was no rational explanation to what she had been through, and he wouldn’t have believed it were it not for the fact that he had verbally and mentally duelled with it himself.
And now, looking at her battered and bruised body lying on the bed, with her apologising instead of him…instead of all of them, he felt small. Underserving.
And knew then how easy it might’ve been for the entity to convince her of the lie of her own worthlessness. And how strong she must’ve been, how much faith she must have had in them all…in him, to be able to fight for that long.
Holding her hand in both of his, he lowered his head until it rested against her fingers.
“It wasn’t you Molly, never you. You did the best you could and we failed you – I failed you.”
“Sherlock-” she breathed.
“I was scared… I was scared at what I felt for you. I thought it would make me weak. But after seeing that…knowing for real what losing you might be like…”
“Its not your fault Sherlock.”
“I meant it. When I said that this is where you’ve always been,” he placed her hand on his heart that was now beating rather fast. “This is what you always do.”
She smiled, a tired yet happy smile. And he knew then that though there would be more battles for them ahead, it was a road he was more than happy to take together.
“Yes, the female victim felt she was lonely, socially secluded or awkward if you may,” Dr Shastri spoke on the phone.
The past few days had been spent investigating the phenomenon that she had experienced for the first time in such a crowded environment. She felt a bit uncomfortable at how easily the being had been able to attach itself to Dr Hooper even when she was surrounded by people. The victims they had encountered earlier had been in relatively secluded places, where there had been less distractions.
She was wondering about the same, discussing with her colleague the reports generated from the electromagnetic transponders when she felt a prickle down her spine. She immediately turned to the photograph of her family that was always propped by her work table, but by the time she had turned to face it, her normal warm brown eyes had been replaced by black emptiness.