John took Sherlock home and left Mary to
take the other boys back home. After she
dropped them off she proceeded to head back to the hospital to check on
Molly. It was only after seeing Molly’s
reaction to Sherlock’s performance that she had put two and two together on how
they had originally met. She was worried
that Molly was headed toward a break down and Mary could not allow it. Too many people relied on Molly holding it
together right now.
Mary did indeed care about Molly but there were reservations. Mary did not like people having power over her and even if she knew it or not Dr. Hooper definitely wielded a certain amount of power. Molly had been wise in keeping her distance from Mary even though she wasn’t aware of it at the time. As far as Mary knew Molly was under Magnussen’s radar. Of course he knew Mary had traded in her life as an agent to save a young girl’s life but hopefully her complete identity stayed secret. After tonight it would not be an issue but in the meantime Molly needed to continue to keep her head down. If Magnussen realized who Molly really was there would be consequences. Mary wondered how much Molly really remembered and knew about the organization that had held her for three years.
Saving Molly did not clear Mary’s name of the crimes she had committed for her country, but it gave her some solace that she hadn’t lost her humanity in the process. Now that Mary and Molly’s fates had intertwined again she couldn’t stay away. As long as Molly did not pose a threat to Mary’s new family she welcomed Molly into her affections. Molly may be socially awkward but she was also naturally likable. Despite the pathologist’s protestations Mary also knew it was only a matter of time before their social circle would include each other at regular intervals. That was if a certain consulting detective would finally get his act together. Though after today’s misstep it was hard to say if Molly would forgive him so readily.
Mary made it to the morgue in record time considering she had stopped for coffee. Knowing the pathologist would try to rebuff Mary’s attempts to talk to her at the morgue she decided not to go empty handed. It is much harder to refuse someone if they bring you coffee at work during a hard day.
Mary braced herself as she entered the lab that Molly was camping out in. She gave a gentle smile as Molly looked up to see her.
“I thought after this morning you may be in want of some coffee. I don’t know how you take it so I brought sugar and cream too.” Mary held out her offering.
Molly looked at her warily for a moment and then sighed before putting her pen down and walking over to the pregnant woman to accept the fresh brew that definitely didn’t come from the canteen.
Mary laughed a little, “I thought it would take more for you to accept honestly.” After Mary saw Molly’s eyes widen in mistrust she added, “Don’t worry I’m not Sherlock, it isn’t drugged.”
Molly grimaced at the last comment. “Sherlock wouldn’t drug me, he’s to busy doing that to himself.”
Mary winced. There was silence as Mary looked intently at Molly who kept staring down and occasionally took a sip of her coffee. Mary decided to try some small talk to get Molly to relax. “I didn’t take you for a black coffee drinker.”
Molly met Mary’s eyes again which Mary chose to take as progress. “Sentiment.”
Mary opened her mouth in a small oh before speaking again, “Your mother?”
“No, father.” More silence filled the room. Molly placed the coffee down on the nearest counter. “Listen I appreciate the coffee, I think, but why are you here?”
“Honestly, I’m worried about you.”
Molly raised her eyebrows and asked in an incredulous tone, “You’re worried about me? Why?”
“Because I thought today was hard for you. Especially after I realized that you and Sherlock met in rehab.”
The first time Sherlock and the girl, who would eventually be known as Molly, spoke she had been at the hospital for three months. At that time she had not spoken a word to anyone. She was exceptionally bright but gave no personal information and only communicated through writing. The hospital personnel were unable to determine an exact age due to the effects of the drugs that had been in her system. Their best guesstimate was that she was between the ages of nine and thirteen. It was a wide age gap to be certain, but with the intelligence she displayed and the trauma to her body it was hard to narrow it down. There was quite a bit of evidence that whoever had been administering the drugs to her knew what they were doing. Without a name to call her they fell back on calling her Jane. At times different people would try to guess her name but she gave no reaction to any name given to her.
Truth to be told she didn’t give many reactions to anything going on around her. One exception to that rule was that upon the slightest hint of being administered an IV drip she would cower in a corner while closing her eyes, covering her ears, and rocking back and forth. This made administering medicine to help her quite difficult but they had ceased having problems with getting her to eat. Her case was a strange one but with nowhere to send her the hospital staff chose to keep her in the rehab center. They had attempted to send her to the psych ward but that had ended up causing her more harm than good. The only times she visited that wing of the hospital was when they attempted to have her take part in group sessions. For the time being they did not know how to go forward with her case and she remained where she had initially been placed.
At seventeen years of age Sherlock had been in and out of this center seven times in the past five months and his brother was at his wits end.
“Sherlock you really must stay this time or there will be no further help for you after this.” Mycroft hissed at his baby brother.
“I don’t want your help Mykey. When have I ever wanted your help?” The raven headed teenager sneered at his older brother. “Where’s mummy?”
“She’s not coming this time. I am through letting you break her heart time and again. It’s time you learned some consequences. Stay here for a straight month and then she and father will come visit you.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Do you really want her to see you in this state again?”
The whole conversation had been played out in the common room where the other patients could hear. It was a fairly common occurrence so not many of the present addicts paid too much attention to the fraternal squabble. After squaring off in an intense staring contest Sherlock turned his back on his older brother and stomped off to one of the tables and slumped down in a seat.
Sherlock continued to sulk in the seat while his brother made final arrangements concerning Sherlock’s re-admittance into the program, which for normal cases was only supposed to last for two months at the most.
Sherlock eyed the two people sharing his table. The first person was a young woman, early twenties, too skinny and may have once have been thought of as pretty but her looks had been damaged by her drug use. She was a run of the mill addict, privileged college drop out, in a word, boring. The other member at his table was a girl he had seen before but had never bothered with. She was lost in a book that was placed upon the table and hadn’t given a moment to even acknowledge his presence. The only movement he saw was from her fingers moving about. Sometimes she would drum her fingers, but other times there were distinct patterns though they seemed to occur unconsciously on her part. She had managed to rouse a curiosity in him.
“You’re clean now, so why haven’t they moved you to the psych ward to deal with your trauma?”
She looked up at him with wide brown eyes that seemed surprised that he would talk to her. She had observed his habit of coming in and out of the center but he had never deigned to speak to her before.
Sherlock observed her reaction and continued to read her. “Ahh. You’re still here because you don’t fit the status quo of psychopaths often found at this establishment’s psych ward so to protect you they brought you back here. You’re uncomfortable with being noticed and you try to hide it by being quiet and hiding in a book. But due to where you are in actuality you can only attract attention by not speaking. This being said you’re mute by choice not from a psychological phenomenon. You are trying to hide from someone, logically the person or rather people who did this to you. By not giving out any information you’re trying to avoid the risk of being sent back to where you came from. But what exactly is it that you are hiding or hiding from?”
During Sherlock’s speech the girl had grown more and more alarmed. As Sherlock leaned forward with steepled hands and slanted eyes she grabbed her book and scurried off to her room. She was terrified by what he had seen and was afraid the staff would push her to talk if they heard what he had said. He was known for the uncanny ability of always being right, much to the chagrin of the workers, especially the former ones that had lost their jobs because of him.
The other addict smirked at him. “Good job at scaring the kid off. Now it’s just you and me.”
Sherlock raised one eyebrow, “No, just you.” So saying he stood up and headed off to his room. He doubted it would take a whole month to figure out the girl’s mystery but it would keep him from being bored for a while and maybe he could last and see his mummy again.
“Hello, earth to Molly.”
“Oh, sorry Mary. I was just thinking back…”
“So I’m right then. You and Sherlock met in rehab.”
“Of course you’re right. You could give the Holmes boys a run for their money.”
Mary gave a slight smirk before becoming serious again. “So, how are you handling today?”
“I’m not going to fall a part if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m angry and hurt but that’s part of being Sherlock’s friend. It breaks my heart to be honest. But if I fell a part every time he did something stupid, well, I probably wouldn’t be alive. I’m not being morbid but you were the one that taught me I had to be able to hold it together or I would die.”
“I was hoping that you would get a chance to live a life. What you are doing is not quite living.”
“I do all right for myself. I have my work, my cat, and my books. It’s not a lot but it’s enough.”
“It’s not enough…”
“I did what you said. I learned to survive. What more do you want from me Mary?”
“It’s not want I want from you it’s what I want for you.”
“You thought you would save my life and somehow it would be like a fairy tale and the lost orphan would get a happy ending? I am not Annie or Oliver. Life’s not a musical or a fairy tale, trust me I am very familiar with both.”
“But certainly they put you with a family…”
“And our father,” Molly gulped and corrected herself, “their father died. Everyone around me dies.”
“It’s not your fault. You know that right?”
Molly gave a sad smile, “Of course I do. I almost went into psychology before deciding on pathology. Of course someone nudged me in the direction of working in a morgue.”
“Did he really?”
“During our time in rehab.” Molly gave a small but more genuine smile and shook her head.
Mary couldn’t help but laugh, “What did he break you two into the morgue when he was bored or something?” Mary imagined the scene in her head and couldn’t help but laugh again.
Molly blushed and looked sheepish.
“You’re kidding! Wait of course you’re not this is Sherlock Holmes we’re talking about. I would love the chance to hear those stories.”
“Yeah, well, he probably doesn’t remember any of our time in rehab together.”
Mary gave her a puzzled look, “Why do you say that?”
“Because Sherlock deletes things that are not important.”
“Perhaps he thought the time in rehab was important.”
Molly shrugged, “Perhaps, but he has never given any indication that he has remembered anything. Listen, thank you for coming back and checking on me. It is kind of weird to be honest, but it’s kind of nice too.”
“Are you going to be all right?”
Molly gave the now familiar part smile and nodded, “Of course. I’m always all right.”
“Listen I meant what I said. It’s not enough just to survive. We all need other people. Even Sherlock does despite how many times he tries to deny it. My offer will always stand, if you want to get coffee sometime.” Mary held up her hand before Molly could interrupt. “I understand your reservations. Even if you don’t become friends with me you should allow others to be your friends.”
Molly stared at the ground for the moment then met Mary’s eyes. “I can’t do coffee.”
Mary nodded her understanding.
Molly sighed, “Perhaps I could do tea sometime though.”
Mary smiled and shook her head, “Okay then, tea.” And with that Mary was out the door. She felt a little bit lighter with the future chance to get to know the pathologist better. She even hoped that against all odds that they could be friends someday. Molly had helped Mary get a second chance at life and maybe another chance to really help her. All she had to do now was to remove the threat that had encroached upon her new life and then she would be free.