Sherlolly~Their Love Would Be Legendary - Expanded and Edited Edition

Chapter 8~Fire

HOLY CRAP! Holy happy crap. xD Thanks everyone for a whopping fifty-six reads, despite my trashy cover and description.
~Sebastian

{Molly's POV}

I heard a sickening crack, and a tiny sliver of light seeped in. Moriarty inhaled excitedly. "Sherlock's finally come to play. But he should've know better -- he's going against the rules."

The sound of a door rustily screeching open grated on my ears, those footsteps travelling away from me. A scratching sound then, from behind me.

It took me a moment to reconise it, and when I did, my heart turned. It was undoubtedly the aound of a match being struck.

"Bye bye now, Little Molly," Moriarty said, Irish voice taking on sing-song tones. I struggled, starting to scream when I saw the tiny flames lapping in the air, tyen at my feet.

The vanadium quickly ignited. Grey smoke rose as I kept screaming, and soon I felt dizzy, barely seeing the light that came flooding through the strangely-coloured cloud coming over my vision.

♥♥♥

When I opened my eyes, the colour white greeted me. I turned my head, seeing a stark contrast juxtaposed to the blank slate of the instantly reconisable hospital room. Dark brown, almost black, curly hair, icy green eyes, black-and-white clothing and pale skin.

Sherlock Holmes was at my bedside, long fingers softly stroking hair away from my face. I smiled at him, still feeling faintly dizzy and nauseous. Sherlock smiled back, lips curving up softly.

"Hey," I said hoarsely, sitting up slowly. My head pounded, and my legs distantly ached. "What happened? What's going on? Moriarty?"

"After you passed out, I got to you and took you to the hospital," the detective said. "I didn't get Moriarty. He probably aent out the back door."

"You didn't follow him? Why not?"

"No," he said, glancing down at his phone. "I have to go upstairs.  I'll be right back."

{Sherlock's POV}

"Why?" Molly asked, rubbing her eyes. My own eyes travelled to where her legs lay under the hospital blanket. She'd been burned pretty badly, but there was at least a 67% chance that she'd be fine, after one or two minor surgeries.

Sixty-seven per cent was a good chance, especially compared to others in the same hospital. Her lungs and throat was be a bit sore for the next few days, but there was no permanent damage to Molly's respiratory system from the smoke.

"I bumped into John and Mary on the way in; the baby's come," I said, looking back down at the text from John.

"Oh, that's nice," Molly said, yawning. I smiled again. She was on some pain medicine,  of course, so she was a little tired and out of it.

I leaned over, kissing her forehead.  "Rest," I instructed her, quietly leaving.

When I came to the room where John and Mary were, I knocked. John called a "come in," and I entered.

The baby had aftually been born about three hours ago, but the new parents had obviously wanted some time with their child, and plenty of nurses had been about to keep them busy.

Cradled in Mary's arms, wrapped in a pink blanket, was a tiny baby. John stood beside his wife, smiling down at them. I felt out of place, unsure if I still found a place in John Watson's busy life anymore.

But he beckoned me forward with a smile, and I knew I still fit in, just with a smaller role now.

And I was okay with that.

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~Sebastian