Queen of the Mind Palace // Sherlolly ✔️

Chapter 3

With a shaky sigh Molly walked slowly up to the figures, the place on her arm where Sherlock had helped to guide her burned. It internally embarrassed her, how much she... trusted Sherlock Holmes. Ok, maybe admired would be a better word. Or liked. Though it didn't matter because either way there she was, making her way towards two most-likely frightened children. Molly was quite confused as to how the children had managed to evade social services, though if the girl was as clever as Sherlock said she was Molly could imagine it wouldn't be too difficult of a task.

She walked up to the figures. The girl was hidden in what seemed like a nest of blankets, her view of Molly blocked, and she stroked the head of a sleeping younger boy who snored soundly on her lap.

"Hello there," she whispered, just loud enough for the girl to hear.

The girls head shot up, the blankets slipping off her. The boy grumbled lightly and Molly could see the girl's free hand rummaging through the darkness. Molly continued.

"My names Molly. Molly Hooper. What's yours?" She said softly bending down. Her mind was whirling as she desperately tried to think how she could manage to get the children to calm.

"You're not taking us," the girl whispered fiercely. The boy had woken up and was looking in confusion between who was presumably his sister and Molly.

"Why would I be taking you?"

"You're with social services and you're not taking us." Molly saw something glint in the girl's hand and her heart skipped a beat.

"I'm not with social services, I promise."

"Adults always lie, how do I know you're not lying to me now."

"Adults do lie, sometimes-"

"Always-"

"But do you know why?" This got the girl to pause and Molly continued, seeing the opportunity, "adults lie to save themselves, but only sometimes. There's a decent handful who do it for other people. Think about it, I can tell you've met some lying adults, but why are they lying? What do you know about them? About what's going through their minds, what's driving their intentions."

"Greed. Money. I can think of some good reasons."

"But how do you know that?" Molly pursued. The girl froze.

"I know enough," her voice was hushed, strained. The boy was more alert now upon seeing the girls change in demeanor. Molly was quiet. How could she reach out to the girl?

"What do you want?" The girl finally spoke up, her question sounding more like a command.

"To be quite frank, I'm not entirely sure. But I know someone who is."

"Who?"

"There's a man behind me who's convinced you're scared of him." The girl's eyes flicked behind Molly, though it was impossible to make out Sherlock's shape hidden in the shadows.

"I'm not scared of anything," the girl insisted, though Molly caught sight of the thing in the girl's hand glint again.

"Then prove him wrong," Molly said. On cue, Sherlock stepped from the shadows, standing beside the crouched figure of Molly.

"Hello again, Sawyer." Molly heard a clanging, as if the girl, Sawyer, had dropped something. Molly's heart skipped but she forced herself to stay calm. The girls figure had frozen and the sound of her voice became shaky.

"Mr. Holmes. Sir," she said.

"You have quite light little fingers miss," Molly heard Sawyer inhale sharply, "good for you." Sawyer's head turned to meet Sherlock's gaze acutely, confusion written across her face.