The Stillness Before Battle (AnĀ āIn So Few Wordsā Story)
And here is what looks like my last fic for Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017, a belated Day 3 fic (Canon Compliant Season 2), written for a prompt claimed by @the-angelsong. Itās angsty and short, but I hope you all enjoy!
The Stillness Before Battle - A missing scene from āThe Reichenbach Fallā before Sherlock goes up to the roof.
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She didnāt want him to go.
She knew the plan, she knew exactly what was going to happen on that roof, or at least what they hoped was going to happen, and she didnāt want him to go. There was only so much that they could plan for because Jimā¦no, Moriarty, not Jimā¦was a devious scheming bastard and he was utterly unpredictable andā¦andā¦
And she could lose him. She could lose him forever and not just for however long it took for the other half of the plan that sheād been left out of took. Sherlock had said it was best if she didnāt know, that the fewer details she knew the safer she would be. Maybe that meant he cared after all, that he wanted to keep her safe because he liked her, not just because he needed her.
But even if he just needed her, it was something.
She watched him sit, every once in a while glancing at the phone he would use to record the conversation he was going to have with Moriarty. The phone she would need to go retrieve if any of the worst-case scenarios happened, if Sherlock needed to jump off the roof or ifā¦
No. Best not to think about that.
No. She had to. She would need to retrieve the phone if it was still there if Moriarty killed Sherlock. Which he could very well do.
The madman was unpredictable, after all. That was why they had contingency plan after contingency plan laid out. That was why there was a tap into the security feed into the camera onto the roof onto her office computer and the once security would see was a loop. Thatās why so much could go wrong.
Because of one manās stupid, stupid game.
Molly snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Sherlockās voice. He seemed resolute, like a soldier facing the battle, but his eyes looked so sad. She wanted to hug him, to reassure him, but she couldnāt. She stood in front of him, and, after a moment, she adjusted the scarf around his neck, taking her time with the actions, fluffing it to make sure it would keep his neck warm, making sure the knot looked perfect, then smoothing down the ends so they fit smoothly down his chest. āSherlockā¦ā she said.
He stilled her hands, placing his over hers. āIāll be careful,ā he replied.
She nodded, and then looked up at him, trying not to cry. It would do no good to cry. He gave her hands a gentle squeeze and then, to her surprise, leaned in and kissed her cheek softly before pulling away and stepping around her and out of her office. She didnāt feel the first tear drop until she heard the door click closed behind him, and then she only gave herself a brief moment before she wiped them away with the back of her hand and situated herself in front of her computer.
The game was afoot, after all.
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