Deerstalker - a Sherlolly story

Rules are made to be broken

If Molly Hooper had one rule about fights, verbal of physical, it was to not  pick them. She, as the sensible girl she was, knew that picking a fight would most certainly result in one of three options; 1. Loss of friends 2. Severe humiliation 3. Injury (physical or emotional). Therefore, she avoided conflicts at all costs. Fortunately, after years of sticking to her principle, this had become relatively easy. Or so it had, until last night.

All morning Molly had been trying to understand what was going on inside her. Logically, she could not explain why she needed to throw her notebook at a random classmate. Still, she felt irresistible urge to do so. Neither could she understand where these foreign feelings came from. Sometimes, she was certain it all boiled up from a burning pit in her stomach. Other times, she could feel them in her tensed muscles that constantly seemed ready for attack. There was one thing she understood perfectly, tough; Who had put them there.

Molly could see him through the cafeteria window. His hands were positioned behind his head, as he lay on one of the picnic tables in the schoolyard. The image of relaxation.  Molly turned on her heels, ready to head outside.

“Molly, where are you going?” Meena asked her from her seat at their regular table, sounding confused.

“It’s actually quite nice out. I think I’ll go enjoy the sun for a bit,” Molly answered, trying to add a smile. Just because she felt like strangling someone, did not mean she had to act on it. Or show it.

Meena, who had caught Molly staring through the window, began to ask: “You are not going to sit with Sher-“

Before her friend could finish her sentence, Molly was already walking through the cafeteria door. Not only because she wanted to get to a certain picnic table, but also because she did not know if she could be nice to Meena much longer.

‘Calm down, Molly. You’re not going to break your rule because of some stupid boy.’ she told herself, while she crossed the school’s hallway. She could feel the soft winter sun on her face when she walked into the school’s yard. When Molly was only a few steps away from Sherlock, who was still occupying the table with his entire body, she gave herself  some last advice; Deep breaths, stay calm. Just talk to him like an adult. Never forget the consequences of fighting.

When she reached the picnic table, no reaction came from Sherlock. Did he not notice someone standing in front of him? Or was he ignoring her again? She was so tired of his behavior.

“Umm… Sherlock, I wanted to ask you something.” Molly began with fake politeness. Still, Sherlock did not respond. He did not even move an inch. What was wrong with him? How could he not notice her? There was no way she was actually that invisible. Molly decided in that moment she was done.

“Get up! Up!” She commandeered him in a loud voice.

This seemed to get through to him and he sat up, clearly surprised by the way he had been spoken to.

“Molly, there is really no need to make such a fuss about….” Sherlock began in his classic condescending tone.

 Molly could not stand being spoken to like that any longer. Her blood boiled and her rules were quickly fading from her mind.

“Shut it!” She pointed her finger at his chest. “ You are going to explain to me, right now, why you weren’t at the library last night.”

“I would love to tell you, I really do. It was quite exciting, actually. Unfortunately, I can’t.” The laziness in his voice was in stark contrast with the sharp and forceful way Molly’s words had come out.

“I’m going to ask you one more time, Sherlock. Where were you last night?” Molly spoke slowly, balling her fists. In the back of her mind she could hear a distant voice telling her to take deep breaths.

“You don’t believe me? I would actually really like to tell you now,  but I just can’t.” While he told her this, his eyes filled with concern locked with hers. ‘Well, he’s good at pretending like he’s sorry,’ Molly thought.

“Believe you?! Of course I don’t! You insulted me, ignored me, humiliated me in front of my friends, let me do all the work during class and last night you stood me up! Why would I ever believe you?!” Molly exclaimed. The burning feeling that had been building up inside her, seemed to flow out of her with every word she yelled at him. Her pool filled with anger seemed not to have a bottom.

Sherlock, surprised by her outburst, stayed silent a few seconds before he spoke:

“It was that bad, huh?” It seemed like he was actually had not realized how he had treated her. He was a good actor.

“Don’t pretend like you’re surprised, Sherlock. I know you by now. I know you don’t care.  I know you like to humiliate people just to feel superior. I know you take pleasure in inflicting pain on others, on me. And I know you just did not want to come last night. So, please, stop acting like you’re-“

Sherlock swung himself off the table and positioned himself right in front of Molly. The points of their shoes almost touched and she could feel his breath on her neck. Standing so close to him, his lean figure was surprisingly intimidating.

He looked down to meet her green eyes and began;

“So, you think you know me? Well… two can play that game,” he told her in deep voice filled with venom. His eyes burning right through her. “Let me see… I know you’re a perfectionist. Insecure. You have various neurotic tendencies. Pretend to like Sally more than you do, because you are intimidated by her. You spend an incredible amount of time dreaming of romance, for someone who’s never been in a relationship.  You lie to please others. A lot.  Your biggest fear is abandonment and you are secretly extremely jealous of your friend Meena.”

Molly felt her knees shake and a lump started to rise in her throat. How? All the fury that had filled her just second ago had been replaced by the desire to stop existing. Sherlock had looked straight through her, had seen her naked self, and scoffed at its hideousness. She wanted to burst in to tears, run away and never return.

Before she got the chance, Meena came running to her in total panic.

“Molly! Molly!” She called her trough hysteric sobs. Once Meena reached her friend she grabbed her arm, not even noticing Sherlock standing only an inch away.

“Molly, oh god. Molly you got to he- It’s Phil. He’s.. He’s” Meena was so distressed, she could not speak two words before bursting into sobs again.

Molly swallowed her own tears. Her friend needed her. She held Meena on both sides of her arms and asked calmly; “Calm down. Deep breaths. What’s going on?”

Meena did as Molly told her and took a deep breath.

“It’s Philip. He.. he’s had an accident. Wi-With his motorbike,” Meena told her, using everything inside her to keep her tears down. “ I… I need to get to hospital. Oh god, oh god. Molly I’m so scared.”

The sight of her friend slowly falling apart, hit Molly so hard, she did not even notice Sally walking into the school yard. Sally asked her friends loudly what Molly was doing had been doing with Sherlock. Even when someone from her own group of friends was in a crisis, gossip seemed more important to her.

Molly gave Meena a tight hug. She rubbed her back, while she said; “It’s going to be okay. I’m sure it will. I’ll go get my bicycle and we’ll go to the hospital.”

During this dramatic turn of events, Sherlock had turned into a pillar of salt. He still stood near the picnic table, wearing a stoic expression only he could pull off.

Forgetting the boy that had just wounded her. Forgetting the classes she still had to attend. Forgetting her helmet and racing with a speed that could never be safe with Meena sitting on the carrier, Molly raced her bike to the hospital. Sherlock Holmes might think she lied to her friends, but the fear she felt in that moment was certainly real.