Sherlolly Oneshots

Dream a Little Dream

Sherlock Holmes was mad.  Not just mad, enraged.  Completely and utterly enraged.  Every twist and turn, every new path, always led him to a dead end.  He knew his sister loved to send him little cases, each one typically harder than the last, but this was just torture.

It had something to do with Molly, most of the recent cases sent by Eurus did.  Sherlock hadn't really realized it until he found himself at the lab consulting her pathological expertise for the fifth time in two days.  But this was going too far. 

Eurus had sent him a case, but failed to say what the case was, instead leaving a message reading only "Molly Three Days".  Was something bad going to happen?  Sherlock wasn't sure and didn't think he wanted to know.

He sat in the lab, where he had been for the tenth time this week, scouring over this one note.  He'd run it through all the tests, looking for something, anything.  Nothing.

He was studying the note thoroughly under a microscope with a magnification power that was giving him headaches when he heard Molly enter the lab. 

"Sherlock?"  She heard him ask.  Sherlock didn't look up from the microscope, nor did he acknowledge Molly. 

She said his name again.

"Sherlock why are you still here?"  He didn't answer, "I have to close up Sherlock... that means you have to go."

Sherlock let out an annoyed huff and looked up at Molly.  She blinked and gasped, "Sherlock!  Your eyes... are so... bloodshot!  When was the last time you slept, or ate for that matter?"

Sherlock let out an inaudible answer and looked back down at the microscope.  Food.  Who was he to need food?  Or sleep.  Sherlock let out a shuddering breath, he could hear Molly saying his name again but for some reason now her voice seemed blurred out and far away.  The last thing Sherlock realized before he sunk into sleep with Molly harshly shaking his shoulder was that perhaps he'd gone too long without a glass of water.

"Where am I?"  Dark room?  No.  Dimly lit hallway.  "Mind palace," Sherlock thought out loud, "I'm dreaming."

Sherlock stood up slowly, looking around.  It was definitely his mind palace, but it was... different.  He'd never been here before, which was impossible considering he'd scraped through his entire mind palace multiple times.  Right?

"Sherlock," a voice said.  Sherlock whipped around, searching for who said his name.  "Sherlock."  He closed his eyes.  The voice was familiar, so familiar.  But it rushed at him from all angles, silvery and disoriented.

"Sherlock!"  Sherlock whipped around as the voice became focused.  There stood Molly.  Sherlock blinked, letting out a shuddering sigh.

"Molly?  What are you doing here-" Sherlock froze.  She stood a yard away from him, but it wasn't Molly.  Her eyes.  They were gold.

"Not Molly," the fake-Molly said in a sing-song voice.  Sherlock blinked, squinting.  It was the body of Molly, but not Molly.  Dream Molly.

"Who're you?  What are you doing here?  What am I doing here?  Where is here?"  Sherlock demanded, walking up to Dream Molly.  She stood still, gold eyes watching him inquisitively.

"You don't recognize this place?"  Dream Molly said.  Sherlock blinked, looking around.  "Surely you must."

"I've never been here before," Sherlock said, crossing his arms over his chest.  "I don't even know where here is."

Dream Molly let out a silvery laugh, "yes you do, silly!  Every time you've been in the palace you've seen this place.  You just choose to ignore it."