Devil Take The Hindmost •Sequel To Life Is But A Dream•

•The Reichenbach Fall: Part Six•

Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Pleasant Reunion

The familiar hallway of St. Barts hospital is comforting as I follow Sherlock and John. We walked through a door and met my old friend Molly, who looked like she was ready to go out.
"Molly!" Sherlock exclaimed, much to the morticians surprise.
"Oh hello, I'm just going out." She squeaked as Sherlock turned her around and directed her in the opposite path of where she was headed. "I've got a lunch date."
"Well, cancel it." Sherlock politely ordered. "You're having lunch with me."

I glanced to John, who just rolled his eyes in annoyance as Sherlock pulled out two bags of crisps.
"We need your help. It's one of your old boyfriends, we're trying to track him down." Sherlock said, and Molly glanced at me. I tried to block out the flashbacks as well, prevailing.
"It's Moriarty?" John asked, to my frustration.
"Of course it's Moriarty-" Sherlock began.

"Jim actually wasn't even my boyfriend. We went out three times. I ended it." Molly declared, folding her hands in front of her. Now it was my turn to be shocked. I was taken aback by her statement, crossing my arms in impression. Good for her.

"Yes, and then he stole the Crown Jewels, broke into the Bank of England and organised a prison break at Pentonville." Sherlock listed. "For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly." He finished, showing off the crisps again before walking through the door to the lab, my uncle following.

"Aspen-" Molly began, adjusting her bag. I immediately embraced my mentor from another life.
"Molly, so much has happened. Please...help us. Help me. I have so much to tell you." I begged. She returned the embrace, and I could tell she was smiling, even though the hug was hiding her face. Lucky for me, it also hid mine, which held a look of deep sorrow and remorse.

"C'mon. Let's get you back into the lab coat. I need my assistant." She said, and we headed down to the lockers.
*
"Tell me." Molly simply stated, putting her bag in her locker.
I sat on a bench, picking at my fingernails, while at the same time searching for words I can use to describe my timeline since we last saw each other.

"Just- I feel like my life is slowly ravelling into an irreversible knot of chaos. Ever since Moriarty came into the hospital that one day, my life has taken a turn into a complexly different direction." I begin, playing with a grey bracelet on my wrist. Under it was a scar- one that was light pink and completely horizontal. "I mean, I've met so many new people when I tag along with Sherlock on his adventures. People who are like me, and people who are on another side of the street. I've been reunited with old friends, but at the same time I've lost some. The point is, since that fateful day everything has been different. Even though I've encountered new people, I feel more alone than ever. "

She was silent as she listened to my testimony, facing away and pulling on a lab coat. Molly was silent, as if it was her turn to search for words.
"You're not alone, Aspen. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I'm your friend. I've been your friend since the day we met. I will always be here for you, in the good times and bad. These old friends you've been reunited with, they're here for you too. You're like a sister to me, and that won't ever change." She said, and I looked up to see her sitting next to me. I didn't cry. I couldn't. Her words filled me with a new sense of hope, but it was the kind I had to cherish, because it was not going to last long.

"Now let's go. They're probably waiting for us." My friend said, offering me a small white lab coat.
*
Shortly after we change, I help her carry monstrously heavy books into the lab, where John and Sherlock are waiting for us.
I brought her a fresh pair of gloves, along with mine, and the both of us helped John and Sherlock. As the detective and Molly analysed, I aided my uncle with photos from the scene earlier.
"Hey, Aspen, have you seen this anywhere before?" John asked, showing me a photo of a maroon rubber seal on an envelope. I took the photo from him and gazed at it. I had seen the seal before, but I didn't know if it had anything to do with the case.

"Um, well it looks like the same that you picked up earlier, before we went to the school." I told him, feeling my words come out in a scramble. He looked at me, and I him, shrugging my shoulders.
"You okay? You've never said that many words to me." John said.
"What? Yeah. Oh Molly I'm coming!" I stammered. I could feel the Crimson shade of embarrassment rush to my cheeks. Chuckling at my uncles disbelief, I began to go over to Sherlock, who was watching Molly leave the Lab. I heard John following me.

"Sherlock, this envelope was in her trunk. There's another one like it." John stated, cutting between the detective and I. He proceeded to take out a creamy-coloured envelope with the same waxy seal on it.
"Exactly the same seal." He said, giving it to the curly-haired man. "Aspen didn't you say you had seen it before too?"
Sherlock looked up at me, along with John, and I froze on the spot. I then proceed to take my book out of my back pocket, flipping through its mythology pages. I stopped at the last story, seeing a stamp of the same seal.
"I haven't read this one yet, and really I haven't thought of it, but I think they're kind of identical." I stated, showing Sherlock the page. As soon as his eyes glossed over he seal, I pulled it back, as if it had turned white hot.

"It's nothing," I chuckled.
"Okay. What about yours John?" Sherlock asked, and reached into the envelope. I saw his fingertips emerge, holding small traces of breadcrumbs. Suddenly, the two pieces in my head connected: a brother and sister, breadcrumbs-
"It's like the fairytale, what was it... Hansel and Gretel!" I exclaimed.

"You're right. Two children led into the forest by a wicked father  and they follow a trail of breadcrumbs." Sherlock explained.
"But what sort of murderer leaves clues?" John asked Sherlock.
"The kind who likes to boast, and who thinks it's all a game. He sat in our flat and said these exact words:
Every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain."
He suddenly turned to the table, as if making a ground breaking discovery.

"The fifth substance- it's apart of the tale." He told us, then looked towards my uncle and myself.
"The witch's house."

"So? It was made up of sweets-" I mentioned, but saw where he was going.

"PGPR." Sherlock declared.
"What?" John asked, still trying to process the information.

"It's used in making chocolate." Sherlock said, then grabbed his coat. "We've got to get to Lestrade."

"Coming?" John asked, and I smiled.
"Why not?" I told my uncle.

*
LEO WON THE OSCAR I'M SO PROUD
that is all...
~jedihobbitwizard