Waking You Up

Wake You Up VII

Molly does the examinations. They don't want her to, because of her connection to John, but she asks for it and they reluctantly agree. 

Sherlock would suspect Mycroft, but – no, he does suspect Mycroft. 

Sherlock watches. He tries to tell himself that it's not John, that John's gone, but when he looks at John's body, John is all he sees. He finds himself wondering why John won't just come back.

"Come back," he whispers without realizing.

Molly doesn't hear him.

Halfway through, she bursts into tears. When she hugs him, he doesn't know what to do, so he stands there and lets her cry with her arms around him.

"It took you six months to remember his name," Sherlock says. 

She lets him go. "I remembered it eventually, though." She wipes at her tears. "He used to bring me coffee. Whenever you sent him for some, he'd get me one, too. He said you never noticed, because the first time you asked him to go get you some while you two were here, he took seven minutes longer than he actually needed, and you thought that was just how long he took. Didn't take him any longer to bring me some, so you wouldn't know what he was up to. Did you?"

Sherlock stares at John. "No." 

Molly sighs, strokes a hand over John's hair. "Guess that's another reason why you notice him, like you never notice me. When you could still notice things, anyway." 

That seems like a strange thing to say, so Sherlock ignores it. 

When Molly's done, and John's ready to be released to his family – to Sherlock – Molly turns to him. 

"Do you want to say anything?" she asks. 

Sherlock takes one of John's hands, tangles their fingers together, then shoves it away. "No. He lied to me. I'm not talking to him until he apologizes."