[Sherlolly fanfiction] Silhouettes

Chapter 24-- Retro

(NEXT DAY)
(SHERLOCK)

Don Jones sat in the small interrogation room with his handcuffs fastened to a bar on the surface of the table, but not restricting him to smoke a cigarette.
Sherlock entered, dismissing the police man and sitting comfortably at the table.
Don smokes as he watches Sherlock.
"You wanted to see me, Brian?"
"It's 'Don'." He corrects, his voice low as the cigarette smoke slithers from his thin lips.
"No," Sherlock smirks as if Don can't remember his own name rather than him choosing not to, "it's Brian. In here, you're just another man. You're not who you want to be; you're what and who your brith certificate says you are. So, Brain, if you're not going to waste my time, please, continue."
He clenches his jaw, "You're going to pay."
"For what exactly?"
"This, for this, Sherlock." He hisses.
"I recall you saying that you'd be 'happy' in prison. I was just doing a favour for an old friend."
"You may have over-come me, but it's not over."
"I've not overcome you, those pretty little bracelets have." He smiles, glancing down at the handcuffs.
Don's nostrils flare as he stands and begins to shout, "You drop a stone into a pond, there will be ripples!"
"That threat has really undercut its purpose with its tranquil imagery." He replies, flat and emotionless as his expression.
"I'll kill her! She will die!" He curses, spittle flying from his mouth as police officers enter to restrain him.
"Not from here you won't." Sherlock signals for them to leave, silently assuring them that he has it under control.
Don breathes heavily because of the sudden raise of voice. He leans forwards as far as his handcuffs will allow him to and speaks with a sinister and threatening tone, "He's coming for you, I swear it. He will eat you inside out, from your mind outwards."
Sherlock watches him grin horribly and plop himself back into his seat as a bead of sweat rolls down his tattooed face.
Sherlock takes a moment before speaking, his comment merely designed to anger Don even more. "I feel we need to appreciate the fact that, yesterday, both you and my fiancée left wearing silver rings." He quips happily, "And I am the cause for both of them; hasn't it been a good week for me?"
"He'll get in your head!" He outbursts, tugging at his handcuffs once again.
Sherlock raises his eyebrows and lowers his eyes awkwardly and stands as Don continues to scream abuse at him.
"Well, if he gets inside my head, god help him." Sherlock finishes and nods to the officers stood on the other side of the two-way-window before exiting, still able to hear 'he'll get in your head!' being screamed from the small room.

No amount of mentally deranged prisoners could get him down today. He was feeling particularly positive and there wasn't a thing that could change that. With an unexplained smile, he pushes the swinging doors open and continues back to 221b to see if Molly had gotten up yet.
**
(SHERLOCK'S POV)

Don Jones' brother, Claus Jones, is the founder of a group of gangsters; they call themselves 'The Minds-eye'. Apparently they can psychologically damage people and corrupt their brains, but they also do an equally as effective job with a good aim and a bullet. Their slogan is 'I'll get in your head'-- a slogan for a gangster group, a little commercial for my tastes. Still, I've got worse things to think about other than those threats. I've got to think about Hölzern manor.

It had just turned twelve o'clock and Molly was still fast asleep; she hadn't heard me wake this morning and I knew that she'd panic if she woke and I wasn't here, especially after last night, and so, I put on my pyjama bottoms again and slip back into bed next to her. She stirs as the weight distribution on the mattress changes and she begins to wake. Molly slowly opens her eyes and looks at me, half asleep. But she still finds the effort to smile at me softly and wish me a good morning. Her eyelids flutter closed again as her body insists on more sleep despite her brain telling her it's time to wake. Eventually, her brain regains control over her body and she stretches her arms, rolling over as she does so and brings them down around me into a hug. I embrace her back and kiss her cheek. She rolls back over to her side and yawns, before swinging her legs around so she's sat on the bed. She exhales and rests her hands on her thighs, preparing to stand. Only then does she realise something. "Where's my ring?" She frowns, observing her hand before looking back at the place she'd been laying a couple of moments ago. Her frown deepens as she checks under the pillow, still finding nothing. She turns and kneels on the bed, lifting up the duvet and seeing nothing but bed sheets. "Where the hell has it gone?" She asks again, becoming more and more worried.
She shuffles closer to me and lifts up the pillows from under my head.
I see this as my opportunity to reveal the small, silver ring in between my thumb and index finger. "This?" I ask almost mockingly.
Her eyes fall upon in and she smiles at me, admitting defeat.
I smirk back at her and shrug, "I am a detective after all."
She breathes a laugh, shifting her weight nearer towards me, "That is literally the tackiest line I've ever heard you say."
She puts one hand over me to support her body as she reaches for it with the other, though it's just out of her reach. She grabs my wrist, but her arms aren't quite long enough to get the ring itself.
Molly looks down at me, lowers her head and kisses me, her hand still holding my wrist. We roll over, but run out of mattress and she squeals in shock as we fall onto the floor in a tangle of bed sheets. We lay beside one another, looking up. My eyes don't move from the spot on the ceiling as I concede and pass her her engagement ring. She silently thanks me and slips it back onto her finger, where it should be. She turns her body so she's laid towards me and her head rests on my shoulder. She looks at me through her big, dark eyes and she speaks wearily. "So, what're we going to do today?" Her eyes lids begin to close as I speak. "Well, there's not much to do." I say. "I have a case to get on with, but that can wait."
"Hm?" She shifts her positioning so she's more comfortable. "What case?" She mumbles, barely awake.
I glance at her, "Never mind." I turn so I'm facing her too and I close my eyes. "I prefer the idea of just sleeping." I admit, my voice quiet as my thoughts begin to calm themselves. After a moment, I half-open my eyes just to look at her with her arms wrapped around me before smiling to myself and returning to blissful rest once again.
**
(MOLLY'S POV)
(ONE WEEK LATER)