The Woman Who Counted (A Sherlolly Tale)

Chapter 47

Author's Note: You lot are in for a treat this chapter. Thanks for 250,000+ reads, lovelies. xxx 
-OH

Molly awoke to a scream in the next room. She sat up with a gasp, looking around the dark room to find a dark figure sprawled on the ground, face down. She threw off her blanket and stumbled out of bed, feeling slightly woozy as she kneeled at Sherlock's side. She lowered her ear to his face, feeling his slowed breathing against her ear. He must have been drugged....

Another scream came, a different voice this time, and Molly stood, nearly falling in the process. When she reached her bedroom door, she grabbed it for support, but as the door swung with her weight, she fell to the floor with a shout of her own, the world seeming to dim and flash with each second, soon fading to black as the original voice let out a cry.

• • •

Molly awoke with a paramedic leaning over her, feeling her pulse. She groaned and turned over, locking eyes with him, remembering what happened. She began shaking her head, still drowsy and droopy from whatever drug was in her system.

"Ms Hooper, please relax," the paramedic said, "My name is Gene. How are you feeling?"

"Where's my sister?" Molly asked, trying to sit up, only to fall back down. "I-I heard her scream."

"She's fine," Gene assured her, "...She'll be fine. We're taking her to the hospital now."

"Hospital?"

"She's been a bit injured ... nothing serious."

"...Serious?"

"We'll just keep her overnight, it seems. Make sure everything's fine."

Molly closed her eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. "What about my mum?"

"She wasn't even touched," Gene said, taking out a stethoscope and checking her heart beat, "You, on the other hand, need some rest."

"T-touched?"

"Sorry, you don't remember? You had a break in."

Her vision blurred for a moment as dark figured told Gene that he'd take it from here. He stumbled as well, but seemed to be in a better state than Molly.

Sherlock sat her up, supporting her back with an arm. He looked down at her. "It was an attack. From Moriarty."

"He was here?"

Sherlock shook his head. "No, he sent someone. Not Moran, no. Somebody else, someone he didn't care about."

Molly cocked her head,vision in and out once again. "What makes you say that he didn't care about them?"

"Moriarty's smart, Molly. He can think up of what's going to happen when he takes a certain action. He can connect actions to their consequences." He took out his phone and sent a text to somebody as he spoke. "He sent that man here to hurt someone you love, but he sent them in a house with three other people: one of them being me. Instead of going straight for me he had the man drug me, then you, then attempt to kidnap your sister, as it seems."

"And he didn't succeed."

"I woke up when he stuck the needle in me, I fought back." It was then that Molly could see the bruise forming on his jawline and below his left eye. "Your mother heard me and made it upstairs with pepper spray and a kitchen knife before he made it to the window with your sister."

Molly gasped. "What?"

"Shh. Relax.... You're mother pepper sprayed him and he let go of Emma, tripping over his own legs and falling out the window. It was, I was told, like some horrible, horror comedy."