Molly, Only Molly (Sherlolly)

Chapter Eleven

"How are your brothers?" Lestrade asks me.

I stare at him in astonishment. "What are you talking about?"

"Sherlock told me-"

I don't wait to hear the rest. I stalk up to Sherlock and grab the lapels on his coat, pulling his face closer to mine. His eyes flicker down to my lips, and I briefly imagine what would happen if I leaned in just a few inches more.

But no. I'm supposed to be interrogating him, not kissing him. "Sherlock," I whisper. "How do you know about my brothers? Have I ever spoken to you about my family?"

"Well..." He voice trails into silence. I cut him off anyway.

"I don't talk to anyone about my brothers. Not my best friends, not my parents. Certainly not you! How would you know about them?"

He shrugs. "Molly, honey, I know everything about you. I'm just surprised it's taken you this long to figure that out. I also happen to know about your father."

"What about my father?" My voice rises till it sounds almost hysterical. "Sherlock? What about my father?"

He steps back. "I thought you knew."

"Just tell me! What happened to him? He's fine, he's fine."

Lestrade watches me with a concerned expression. He glances toward Sherlock every so often. He knows too. I walk over to him. "Please, Lestrade. I need to know. It's my dad, for goodness' sake! Tell me."

He throws his hands into the air. "It's not my place to tell. Check your phone."

I pull my phone out of my pocket and check my texts. Twenty new ones, all from Mum. Starting from last week...

FRIDAY, 2:03 AM

I'm scared for your dad, Molly. He's acting different. He's started drinking again. Maybe you should come talk to him? He always says how much he misses you...

I skim through a few more. One from Wednesday, this week.

WEDNESDAY, 6:35 AM (VOICEMAIL)

"Molly? Are you there? It's Mum. You haven't replied to any of my messages yet... Your dad's in the hospital."

I look up, and nearly drop my phone. "What?!" This can't be true. I keep listening.

"He had a heart attack last night." The message ends, and I put the phone back into my pocket. Lestrade puts an arm around my shoulder. I shrug it off, and start walking back towards the spot where we got dropped off.

Sherlock walks after me for a few paces, but stops when I turn around. "Just go, okay? I want to be by myself."

He keeps walking alongside me, however. "If you see anything helpful to the case, tell me!" He says to Lestrade, who nods.

I can feel Sherlock's worried glance on me. I'm stunned into silence. I haven't seen my parents in over a month. I haven't bothered on checking in to see how they were doing. What kind of a daughter does that?

"If it helps, I haven't seen my parents in almost a year," Sherlock says quietly. "I see my brother more often, but we hate each other."

I stare at him. "Why? Don't you love them? They're your parents! They raised you." My voice sounds robotic when I speak.

He shakes his head. "Maybe they love me. I went to boarding school in Wales for most of my life. Mycroft, my brother, stayed at home with them. Out of us, he was the smart one."

I snort. "Really? You're the smartest person I know."

His eyes crinkle up in that smile he does. "Deducing people isn't really good for anything except getting yourself a lot of nicknames."

"Like psychopath?" I ask.

"That one's more of a joke between Lestrade and I. If any of the others at Scotland Yard call me that though..." He frowns. "But they prefer to call me freak above anything else."

I don't say anything. I'm not sure why Sherlock is suddenly telling me all of this, and I'm not sure what to think of it either. It saddens me, though. He's clearly a genius, and his parents must be blind not to see it.

"But enough about me." He breaks the silence again. "Are you- doing alright?" He sounds so unsure of himself.

"As well as I could be doing. You know about my dad's problems already, though."

He nods. "I can't help it. It's just.. People fascinate me. And knowing every little detail about them is just something that I do, like eating or sleeping."

"Or giving out insults," I say.

"Yes. I guess so." He doesn't apologize for the number of insults he's given me, but I don't really mind. Just the fact that he admitted it makes me warm up toward him even more.

"So. When are you going to see your parents again?" I ask him, changing the subject.

"Mycroft's birthday. If not, then maybe on Christmas."

"What about on your birthday?"

He laughs humourlessly. "No. Haven't spent it with them since I turned seventeen. Mrs. Hudson usually comes by with a cake or something."

I wish he would just tell them that he misses him. Then again, I'm not exactly sure that he does miss them.

"Besides, I only see them once a year."

It's like he's a mind reader. And while all of this has helped keep me distracted, all my thoughts fly back to dad. I pull out my phone and see another voicemail, from two days ago. Thursday.

"Molly? Did you lose your phone or break it? I've been trying to get a hold of you for a while now. Not sure if you've heard, but your father's in Intensive Care. We haven't spoken to you in over a month, I'm not even sure if you're okay. So stop by as soon as you can. I need to know that you're doing alright. Goodbye."

Sherlock has heard the whole thing. I'm surprised to find I don't really care. Besides, it's not like he didn't know everything already.

My phone beeps with a new text.

YOU LOOK DEPRESSED- SH

"How do you have my number?" I ask.

"Stop asking questions you already know the answer to," he says, with a slight smile.

We reach the parking lot, and see Lestrade's police car. Sherlock pulls out a ring of keys from his pocket and unlocks the door. I don't even question this.

"Get in," he says, motioning to the passenger door. I get in and close the door, and he starts the car. I've barely settled in before he presses down on the gas and we speed out of the parking lot.

I quickly buckle my seatbelt.

"You don't need to do that," Sherlock says. "We're in a police car. We can do whatever we want. Besides, we can get to the hospital quicker."

This is the first time in a long time that I've been to the hospital to visit a patient. I always go to the morgue.

As soon as we walk in, Mom rushes out and wraps her arms around me. "How did you know I was coming?" I ask.

"I texted her," Sherlock says. I smile at him and then run towards the elevator.

YAY TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE WEEK ALREADY!!!