Moriarty's Babies

Part 14

In a last attempt to bring her captors to their senses, Molly had gone on a hunger strike. Every time they tried to give her a bottle, she clamped her mouth shut around the dummy, absolutely refusing to be fed.

Irene and Moriarty were certainly worried. It had been nearly three days since Molly had taken a bottle.

Molly couldn't stand the empty feeling in her stomach, and how parched she was, but maybe this would snap the ones in charge of her out of whatever delusion they were stuck in.

As the bedroom door opened and Moriarty walked in, he walked carefully over to Molly's bassinet.

"Are you ready to eat, poppet?" He cooed softly, scooping Molly up. She didn't fuss as he held her close, cradling her and shushing her as he settled into the rocking chair.

Molly looked at the bottle, very tempted to just end her protest and drink. If she did that, Moriarty would win. If she didn't...

"Here Jim, let me feed molly. Sherlock's ready for a bottle any minute." Irene said. On cue, Sherlock began crying, and it echoed loudly down the hall. Irene handed moriArty a second bottle, gently taking molly into her arms.

Moriarty left the room, gently calling out that he'd be right there.

Irene smiled sweetly at molly, kissing her forehead.

"It's time to end your little game, baby. You haven't had anything to drink in days, and you're scaring me and daddy." Irene said, eyes shining with tears.

Molly suddenly felt awful. Even though she'd been brought here against her will, she couldn't help but remember when she needed her mummy. Irene had protected her when Moriarty upset her...

Irene waited patiently, removing mollys dummy and setting it aside.

"Come on, baby girl. Just one sip." Irene said quietly.

Finally, molly latched onto the bottle, taking a small sip at first, but then practically gulping the milk.

Irene smiled and cooed, rocking gently.

"Good job, love."

Molly silently finished the bottle, and Irene lifted her to her shoulder, burping her. She laid Molly back down in her bassinet, popping her dummy in her mouth.

"Mummy doesn't ever want you doing something like that again." Irene cooed in a shaky voice. Molly looked up at her and gently nodded, eyes wide. She'd really upset her mummy. She felt bad about that, but she felt worse that her protest hadn't worked. Irene and Moriarty still saw her as an infant and would treat her as such, just as they had been.

Molly tried to not let the thought upset her as she closed her eyes, listening to Irene sing soft lullabies.

Moriarty poked his head into the room, nodding to Irene and mouthing something. She saw Sherlock nestled tightly in his arms, asleep with his dummy in his mouth.

"I know." Irene whispered back, scooping up Molly again, following her partner or to the driveway. It was dark out, but this would be their best chance to leave.

They carefully buckled the babies into their carseats, Irene slid into the passenger seat and Moriarty behind the wheel.

They took one last look at the house they had to abandon before pulling away. Once they got to their new home, nobody would ever be able to take their babies away from them, ever again.

Molly woke hours later to a dirty nappy. She fussed, crying for her mummy. After a minute, Irene finally came into view, cooing at molly.

"What's the matter, baby? Did someone use her nappy?" She cooed, patting Molly's tummy. "Mummy will change you."

Irene grabbed the changing supplies, rolling Molly's onesie up and removing her dirty nappy. She wiped her clean and taped a new nappy onto her, stepping out to wash her hands. When she came back, she snapped Molly's onesie shut and kissed her forehead.

"Are you ready for a bottle, baby?" She asked, scooping Molly up and carrying her downstairs.

Molly looked around, confused. This wasn't Irene's house.

Moriarty was in the kitchen, making two bottles, and Sherlock was in his swing in the living room.

Irene cooed as she carried molly into the living room, sitting on the couch to feed her. "Do you like our new home? It's quite cosy, huh?" 

Molly didn't latch on to the bottle right away, which Irene noticed.

"Would you like daddy to feed you?"

Molly shook her head, and Irene smiled.

"Then drink up." She said. Molly slowly sipped the milk, and Irene hummed as she fed her.

Moriarty walked in, carrying the other bottle and picked Sherlock up, sitting next to Irene.

"There's my sleepy girl. How are you today, poppet?" Moriarty cooed, smiling at molly. Molly merely whimpered behind her bottle, shutting her eyes to avoid Moriarty's gaze.

"Still scared of daddy, huh baby?" He said, sad. He wanted his little girl to love him. He's been taking care of her, but she took a liking to Irene so easily. He was a little jealous, but that wouldn't stop him from building trust with his stubborn little girl.

Once Molly finished her bottle, Irene held her to her shoulder and burped her, kissing her forehead.

"Let's go sit in your swing for a bit." Irene said, buckling the girl into her swing. She turned it on to a gentle rock, placing a soft blanket over molly.

"You stay there, baby. Mummy will be right over here." Irene said, sitting back on the couch.

Molly watched as the two parents chatted, looking over at her every few minutes. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but it had to be about her, right?

Moriarty finished feeding Sherlock and burped him, carrying him over to the swings. He buckled him in and placed his dummy in his mouth before turning the swing on. Moriarty then picked up Molly, which made the girl tense.

"It's alright, poppet, we just need some bonding time. Mummy will stay here with your brother." Moriarty cooed, carrying molly up to his and Irene's room, sitting in the rocking chair.

Molly remained quiet, not bothering to push away from Moriarty as he held her. He rocked gently and held her close, rubbing her back.

"I know you've had a lot of problems with daddy, but we can put those to rest. There's nowhere you can go, baby, from here on out it's just you, me, Sherlock and mummy. Once you realize that, you can sink into your headspace much more easily." Moriarty said softly, punctuating his statement with a kiss on Molly's crown.

Molly whimpered. He was right. She didn't know where they were, or if there were any other people around, or how far they were from home.

She began to cry, dummy tumbling from her mouth. Moriarty cooed and held her closer, continuing to rock.

"It's alright, poppet. Daddy's got you." The criminal soothed. He listened as Molly's cries quieted, turning to whimpers. He placed her dummy back in her mouth, gently wiping the tears from her face.

Molly laid her head on Moriarty's chest, sucking her dummy furiously.

"Easy, baby, that's not going anywhere." Moriarty said, slightly amused at Molly's behavior. He shouldn't be, since the girl was clearly in distress, but that what he was there for. He would always be around to comfort her, no matter how hard she tried to stay out of her headspace.

Molly's eyes dropped closed, and she lightened up on her dummy, it bobbed gently in her mouth. Moriarty smiled and stood, laying molly down in her bassinet. Maybe he would try her tapes one last time, just to see if they finally pulled molly into her headspace.

He put on the first tape, to discourage Molly from sitting up, or moving much at all. Hopefully when she woke up, they would see some progress with their baby girl, once and for all.