“Don’t leave me here with her,” whined seven-year-old Sherlock.
Sherlock huffed. “She’s boring.”
Mrs Holmes sighed. Mycroft was starting to rub off on him. “How would you know she’s boring if you haven’t spoken to her yet.”
“I can tell, Mummy, from the way she dresses that she likes to play tea with her dolls, so that makes her boring.”
Mrs Holmes frowned. “Would you at least speak to her?”
“No. Can I go play with Victor now, Mummy?”
Mrs Holmes put on a stern face. “You will play with Victor after you play with Molly.”
Sherlock huffed once again. “Fine.” He glared when he saw Eurus smirking behind their mother. Ignoring her jest (“Sherlock has a new girlfriend!”), he went towards the little three-year-old girl playing with her dog – a Golden Retriever named Goldie (of course) – with Eurus silently trailing behind him. Mrs Holmes, meanwhile, went to Dr Hooper, an old friend of hers from university. He had, after all, invited her over for tea when he found out his old friend was living nearby with her own family.
“Hello, Molly,” Sherlock said. Despite his disdain in interacting with other people, he tried to be as polite as he could, and this included his shy smile and putting his hands in the pocket of his shorts.
Little Molly Hooper beamed at him. “Hello. You’re my new friend, aren’t you?” she asked.
Sherlock nodded. “Your daddy and my mummy are friends, so that makes us one too.”
Molly nodded with wonder on her face, as if the information shared by Sherlock was actually the greatest secret of the universe. “What is your name?” she asked him.
“Sherlock.” He frowned when she giggled. “What’s so funny?”
Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. “No, it’s not.” And perhaps he was trying to make a point, he added, “Mycroft says that it’s a girl’s name.”
She giggled again. “Are you a girl, then?”
Sherlock was starting to get mad. “No, I’m not!” he shouted.
Molly was startled at his outburst. Sherlock almost panicked when he noticed the tears glistening in her eyes.
“No, no, no. Don’t cry, Molly.” He sat down next to her and put his hand on her face, wiping her tears for her. Goldie whimpered when he saw his owner cry. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Shuh-lock.” He frowned at the way she pronounced her name, but he kept quiet, knowing that his name was probably a bit difficult to be pronounced by a three-year-old.
He pulled out his handkerchief he kept in the pocket of his shorts and used it to wipe the remaining tears that had rolled down to her cheek. Molly caught a glimpse of the embroidery on the cloth. “Is that a… a… Peruvian Lily?”
Sherlock was shocked that she knew what flower it was. “How do you know that?”
She sniffed. “I saw a picture of it in Mummy’s book. It’s also known as… uh, Astomia.”
Sherlock couldn’t stop the giggle escaping his mouth. “That’s not what it’s called, silly. It’s Astromia.”
Eurus shook her head. “Idiots,” she mumbled under her breath. Sherlock turned to glare at her. Molly copied him, turning to look at Eurus. “Who is that, Shuh-lock?” she asked.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “That’s my sister, Eurus.”
Eurus gave a charming smile to Molly. “Hello.”
Molly beamed at her. “You’re very pretty.”
Sherlock scoffed at Eurus’s happy expression. “No, she’s not. She’s the ugliest sister in the world.”
Eurus’s eyes narrowed. “You take that back, Sherlock.”
“Never!” Sherlock stuck his tongue out to her. He laughed as he immediately stood up and ran away from her.
“Come back here, Sherlock!” Eurus shrieked. She started to chase Sherlock around the garden. Goldie barked and followed the two children while Molly laughed heartily at the scene.
Sherlock gasped and stopped playing his violin. Behind the glass, Eurus stopped as well but she was smiling.
“Do you remember now, Sherlock?” she asked, gently instead of sneering like she always did.
Eurus sighed. “I understand that you had erased every memory of me in your mind, but I never thought you would do the same to Molly.”
Sherlock went silent, his thoughts processing on what he had just remembered.
“Is that why you went to her?” he asked, his voice turned cold.
Eurus’s gaze turned sympathetic. “I was trying to play with you, Sherlock. But I also want you to remember.”
“How can I remember?” he snapped. He took a deep breath to calm down. “Her life was on the line. At least, that’s what I thought at the moment.”
“But you do remember now, Sherlock.”
Sherlock hated to admit that she was right. “What happened next?” he asked her.
“That, I’m afraid, is a question reserved to her.”
So that was where he headed next after he left Sherrinford. He immediately hailed a cab once he landed in London and went towards Molly’s flat. He stormed into the place without knocking, startling Molly who was making coffee for herself after a long day at the lab. She was used to him either unlocking the door – using his copy of the keys or pick locking it – gently or sneaking into the place late at night after he solved a case.
“Sherlock, you gave me a fright.” She chuckled as she resumed stirring the coffee in her cup. When he did not respond to her, she looked up and saw that he had not yet moved from the doorway. The distraught look on his face made her feel anxious as she approached him. “Sherlock?” she called him, holding his face in her hands. “What’s wrong? Is it Eurus? Is she okay?”
Sherlock was touched by the way she held his face in her small hands, concern evidently etched on her face. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a deep kiss. A few seconds later she pulled away to catch her breath. “Sherlock, what…” Sherlock interrupted her by kissing her again, which turned more passionate as he slammed her back against the wall behind her.
Several hours later, they were both lying on Molly’s bed. Both were completely naked with Molly laying her head on Sherlock’s bare chest while he stroked her brown hair, kissing the top of her head a few times in the past hour.
“What was that all about?” she finally asked.
Sherlock shrugged. “I was… overcame with emotion.”
She giggled. “Is that what it’s called? ‘Overcame with emotion’?”
Sherlock smiled when he heard her mimic his tone. He looked down at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“About your childhood. About our childhood.”
He felt Molly stiffen in his arm. “So you finally remembered.” Hearing him sigh, she tried to explain herself. “At first I didn’t know it was you. When you burst into the lab for the first time, I just thought that it was a coincidence that your name is Sherlock, like the little boy who became friends with me when I was a little girl. But then I overheard you once said that ‘there is no such thing as a coincidence’, so… I might have done a bit of investigating on my own about your background?” Sherlock chuckled at the way she phrased the last part of her sentence as a question.
“Then the pieces fit together and I realized who you are. But you don’t seem to remember me… and you don’t even mention about your sister, not even once. I talked to Mycroft and he explained that she did some… terrible things and was incarcerated. She died in prison, or so he said.”
“It was all a lie,” Sherlock said quietly.
Molly sighed. “It was. I remembered her as being pretty and sweet. An older sister that I never had.”
“If only she was as innocent as you remembered her.”
Molly sighed. “I know. Maybe it’s because I was so young that I didn’t know how terrible she was to you.”
“Did you know about Victor as well?”
“I remember hearing about a little boy about your age who disappeared one day. My dad always made sure I stayed as close to him right after that happened. Didn’t want the same thing to happen to me.”
The room became silent as they gathered their thoughts. Sherlock suddenly remembered something else. “What happened to Goldie?”
Molly sighed sadly. “He got sick, Sherlock. We had to put him down.” She looked up at him, placing her chin on his chest. She smiled sadly at him. “You were there for me right after I got home from the hospital. Your mummy allowed you to spend the night at my place and you held me in your arms all night.”
Sherlock sighed. “I’m sorry, Molly. I should’ve remembered that.”
“It’s okay, Sherlock.” She laid her head back on his chest, placing her cheek right where she could hear his heart beating.
“Maybe that’s why I remembered… I mean, thought, Redbeard was being put down.”
He heard Molly sniff. “I’m sorry, Sherlock. About… Redbeard. Or Victor, I mean.”
He rolled over until she was pinned underneath him. “It’s not your fault, Molly.” He kissed her. “I’m okay now.” He kissed her again. “I have you now. And John. And Mrs Hudson, Greg, Rosie… hell, even Mycroft.”
She giggled when he scrunched his nose at his brother’s name. She smiled softly as she stroked his curls. “And Eurus. Don’t forget her.”
He smiled. “I won’t. Never again.”
Alstroemeria, commonly called the Peruvian Lily or Lily of the Incas or Parrot Lily, symbolizes friendship and devotion, and the twists in the flower symbolize the trials and tribulations of friendships. (via theflowerexpert.com)
