Rogue Male: A Sherlolly Story
Chapter 7: Explained
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BEDROOM – GUEST’S WING – THE KNIGHT ESTATE
When Sherlock opened his eyes he found himself in a room that had once been very grand, but its former opulence had faded over the years, though it still held an aura that steadfastly refused to fade away completely.
Rather like the rest of the house, owned by Henry Knight.
Sitting up, he was bemused to discover that he was completely naked. Running his hand through his hair and over his chin, showed he’d washed and shaved. The problem was he had no memory of doing so.
Inspecting the room more carefully he noted that there was an indentation in the pillow on the other side of the bed.
He had not slept alone then.
At that moment the bedroom door opened and Molly Hooper, wearing a pair of pajamas that were too big for her, walked in carrying a tray with food and coffee on it, which she placed on the bedside cabinet, before getting back into bed.
“So I guess you have some questions,” she said.
“I do.”
“Well, they can wait. You need to eat something first.”
Sherlock opened his mouth to object, but Molly was having none of it.
“You’re exhausted and you haven’t eaten much in the last few days, so don’t argue with me, just eat.”
To his own surprise Sherlock meekly acquiesced to her demands.
*
Sherlock leaned back against the bed head. Feeling replete he let out a satisfied sigh, and closed his eyes.
“So, I’ve been a good boy and had something to eat and drink. Now I want some explanations.”
“Fair enough,” Molly agreed, as she too settled back, mimicking his position. “Where do you want me to start?”
“The beginning would be helpful,” Sherlock noted wryly.
Nodding her head in agreement, Molly took a deep breath before beginning her narrative.
“It was all Mycroft’s idea. After he had interrogated Moriarty a few months ago he was left in little doubt that at some point I would be targeted due to my association with you.”
It was a similar conclusion to the one Sherlock had already come to.
“Moriarty’s suicide didn’t change Mycroft’s position that I would need protection. So he called in a favour with Mary Morstan.”
“Not her real name,” Sherlock concluded.
“No,” Molly confirmed. “But it is the name she currently prefers to be known by.”
“An assassin.”
“She’s the sole surviving member of a team of agents that went by the code name A.G.R.A.” Molly corrected.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that my brother had his own private hit squad, especially now that I’ve met Eurus,” Sherlock mused aloud.
“Oh shush you. Do you want the rest of my explanation or not?”
“Pray continue,” Sherlock responded with an exaggerated wave of a hand.
“Though Mary had been told to use all methods and means at her disposal to keep me safe, we both decided that more could be learned if the criminal organisation believed that Mycroft regarded me as irrelevant, and thereby leaving me completely vulnerable. And so, we allowed them to capture me.”
“You were taking one hell of a risk,” Sherlock pointed out.
“I know,” Molly replied soothingly. “But I also knew that Mary was always close, and that she would step in when the time was right.”
“Not soon enough,” Sherlock responded bitterly.
“You heard my screams?”
Sherlock nodded.
“It wasn’t as bad as you’re imagining Sherlock, I can assure you.”
“It went on for hours...” Sherlock’s voice broke, deep regret etched on his features, “And all because of me.”
Molly turned to face Sherlock, taking his face in her hands and gently whipping the tears that had begun to fall.
“You did hear me scream,” she confirmed, “But only the first time.”
Sherlock frowned. “What do you mean? I heard you...”
“After I had been brought to your cell, I was then taken to an adjacent one where I was introduced to an acquaintance of yours, Irene Adler.”
The shock Sherlock felt at hearing The Woman’s name was not because he was surprised she still lived. He knew she did, he had been the one to rescue her from the terrorist group that was about to behead her. His shock was due to the fact she had immediately scurried back to Moriarty and his cronies.
But then he had to acknowledge that she did enjoy living on the edge. Danger was her drug of choice.
“What happened next?” Sherlock asked, though he now had a pretty good idea what Molly’s response would be.
“She began striking me with her riding crop,”
Sherlock pulled Molly close, before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
“You are not to blame Sherlock. I made the decision to do it,” Molly reminded him as she nestled closer, resting her head on Sherlock’s shoulder. “Though I am grateful that shortly after Mary arrived, and given her impressive skill-set she was easily able to overpower Irene, and then she set about beating her with the riding crop she had used on me.”
“So the other screams I heard were...”
“Irene’s, not mine,” Molly confirmed. “You were likely unable to tell the difference between the screams having yourself being incarcerated and interrogated over a number of days, which had left your usually sharp cognitive abilities dulled after taking a severe beating, physically and mentally.”
Sherlock felt some of the weight of his guilt ease, if only a little bit.
“As for the rest, I think you can pretty much work that out yourself.”
“What about Eurus?”
“I think that’s a subject you should discuss with your brother,” Molly advised.
Sherlock nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful.
“There’s one matter you haven’t given me an explanation for,” he pointed out.
“Oh, what’s that?” Molly asked, her eyes all wide-eyed innocence, while her cheeky grin said otherwise.
The shriek she gave was mixed with laughter as Sherlock pulled her down so that she now lay flat on her back, while Sherlock positioned himself comfortably over her.
Leaning down he growled into her ear, “How did I end up washed and naked in this bed with you?”
Molly weaved her fingers through his curls as she’d always wanted to do, before totally unrepentant giving a gentle tug.
The groan Sherlock gave had absolutely nothing to do with pain.
Molly then moved her hand to rest on the back of his neck, applying pressure to indicate for Sherlock to lower his head. Once he had complied, Molly pressed a kiss to his lips.
“Make your own deductions,” she responded playfully, before placing a series of love bites down his long, elegant neck and along his broad shoulders.
***
BEDROOM – LATER
As both lay sated and comfortably tangled up in each other’s embrace, a sudden thought occurred to Sherlock.
“You know, I think Mary would make an excellent partner for John.”
Molly gave his suggestion some thought. “I think you could be right,” she agreed. “They’d be a perfect match. Like us.”
“Precisely like us,” he said as he lent down to place a passionate kiss upon her lips. “I’m only sorry it took me so long to realise it.”
“Then let’s spend our time creating new memories instead of regretting the past,” Molly suggested.
“Molly Hooper, I love the way you think.”
***