How To Save A Life

How To Save A Life

Chapter 1

How To Save A Life

A late night at the morgue wasn’t really something Molly wanted to do, but it was for Sherlock, and Molly would drop everything for him. They were measuring chemicals for a rush case that he had, and Molly relied on coffee and his talking to himself to keep her awake. She said nothing, only did as she was told.

"Molly." Sherlock spoke slowly, turning his head to look at the young woman, who was so nicely helping him. He noticed that she wasn’t making any attempt at conversation, and while he was grateful for that choice on her part, it was slightly strange to not hear her smooth and melodious voice speak to him. He looked back to the chemicals and decided that she would not reply to him, the work involvement on the case too great for her to focus on anything else.

Actually, Molly wasn’t speaking not just because she was working, but because she felt as if she spoke to him she would just break down and cry. She knew that he didn’t care for her, she’d always known. She knew he was planning to fake his death soon as well, and that was the rush case. She watched him sip his coffee and paid no attention, continuing to write down information on some files and reports. For once she hadn’t made the coffee, but had a new staff member do it. Molly glanced back at Sherlock and saw he had taken a seat in the rolling chair, hands under his chin and eyes closed. She thought nothing of it until she glanced over a few minutes later and nearly screamed. Sherlock had slipped silently to the tile floor, his eyes closed and body lax.

“SHERLOCK!” Molly screamed in fear, kneeling down beside him as she felt pain stab her in the heart. His eyes flicked open once more and looked at her, lips struggling to form words but failing as he slipped into unconsciousness. There was no sound of chemicals and compounds breaking or forming, no clinking of beakers as people worked side by side, no porcelain coffee cups making a sound as they are placed back on the metal table. Absolutely nothing to hear, not even a breath. The only thing that could very possibly be heard was a sob. A soft, soul shattering, and almost silent sob. The kind of sob that makes you almost want to cry. The sob that makes you feel that the owner cares deeply for whoever they are mourning for. The sob of someone who has lost the only person in the world that they cared about.

Sherlock opened his eyes to the face of an angel. No wait, that was only Molly. Molly?! What on earth was she doing here? Actually, where was ‘here?’

The detective heard the sounds of beeping machines and voices of what sounded like people he knew. Lestrade, John, Mrs Hudson, Molly, Mycroft. Mycroft?! What was HE doing here?!

"Sherlock!" a beautiful voice caught his attention, then a figure hugged him tightly, soft crying coming from the figure. The figure smelled of chocolate, roses, amber, vanilla, lavender, and jasmine. Sherlock knew it was Molly the minute she stepped inches from the metal rail by his bedside. When she hugged him he went into shock, blinking rapidly, but slowly put his arms around her. Her hair smelled like strawberries, long locks brushing against his face as she held him, her face buried into his shoulder.

"Molly." the young man coughed, managing to speak her name with the little energy he had. His voice was weak in strength, but strong in tone as he spoke, causing her to pull back and look at him. Her deep brown orbs were full of worry, sadness and pain as she made eye contact with his teal ones.

"Yes? What is it? What’s wrong?" Molly asked him, her eyes full of concern and worry. He could still see the tears blurring her usually bright and happy eyes, even if they had stopped falling. It was then that he realized how much she truly cared for him. He had always known, of course, but he hadn’t realized just HOW much.

"You would be dead if it wasn’t for her, you know that right?" John asked his friend, raising an eyebrow. Sherlock looked genuinely shocked at the other man’s words, but quickly covered it up by shrugging. He winced in pain, causing Molly to flinch.

"Don’t move, it’ll just make the pain worse." Molly stopped him, placing a hand on his arm. She sat down on a chair next to the cot, her hand on his arm. The others shifted slightly and most said their goodbyes, departing for home.

Molly stayed with him by his bedside, her eyes going from him to the monitors, then back again. Minutes turned into hours, and still she stayed. Her small hand held his tightly and she leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on his lips, and then forehead.

"I’m going to stay with you all night, until you can go home." Molly whispered softly, a tear trickling down her cheek, causing her to look at the floor, her head turning away from his body as more tears fell. She felt something cool touch her face and catch a tear before it hit the floor, making her turn back to the bed. Sherlock’s eyes were open and he managed a weak smirk. Molly’s tears continued to fall rapidly down her face but she did not make a sound. His fingers shakily stroked her face and she smiled softly, holding his hand. Their gaze did not break as she leaned down again and kissed him.

"Molly, we need to talk." he said as he struggled to sit up, but she helped him. He had thought about giving up the fight and letting the drug from the coffee (he deduced that that was the cause of him being in the hospital, because it had been made by someone other than Molly) take over.

"Yes, we do." Molly agreed, still looking worried. Sherlock’s monitor faded and then came alive again and it did this repeatedly. Molly was crying as she knew that she might lose him.

"I know I should have said this a long time ago, but I love you Molly Hooper…." Sherlock coughed as the heart monitor stopped and he closed his eyes. Molly sobbed like La Llorona (the Weeping Woman from Mexican folk tale), before putting her head on his chest, crying freely.

"Please…Please don’t go. We need you Sherlock. I need you. Please don’t go." she whispered. She thought she imagined it at first, but the monitor jumped back to life, beeping steadily as the detective opened his eyes.

"Molly? Why are you crying?" he whispered as he cupped her cheek, kissing her gently

"I thought I lost you. That I would never see you again. You nearly died but then you came back." Molly managed to get out, still confused on how that had happened. Sherlock’s smile gave his guess away.

"How to save a life. Rule one: You love someone." he said and took her face in his hands, kissing her. She kissed back with passion and sorrow, her grip tight, never wanting to let go.

"Don’t let go." she whispered as he smiled a little more before whispering into her lips.

"I’ll never let go. Not as long as you are here." he said smoothly


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