There Is Nothing Wrong With Me

Nothing To Be Nervous About

Sherlock POV: It was a bit hard for Sherlock to keep calm. He knew that this was the night, it was finally the night that he got to approach John Watson, maybe even do more than approach, they might have a conversation, they might...look at each other! Oh dear...oh my...this was never going to work! Sherlock had no idea what he was doing when he asked Molly for the most astronomical favor of all, and now not only Molly knew about the failing therapy but Greg Lestrade knew as well, oh what if one of them told an adult, what if Greg alerted the headmaster? He would get arrested, lobotomized, killed! Oh this was such a bad idea... Sherlock was doing his best to preen himself before the big night, he showered rigorously, picked out his favorite purple shirt and slacks (to make it look like he wasn't trying too hard, he avoided the tie) and was now sitting in front of his mirror, brushing his hair over and over again, just to give himself something to do. He was going to take his mother's car; he already arranged that, however his poor parents had no idea what it was going to be used for. Somehow he managed to convince them that he was going on a date...with a girl. That girl, in fact, was to be Molly Hooper. The looks on their faces were almost comical; he thought his mother was going to burst into tears, even his father wore that stern look of approval. Their little boy, finally finding a girlfriend oh he knew it was their dream! And yet he was going to crush it... It was all a lie, of course, and Sherlock deserved no such praise, however for once in his life it was nice to be looked upon as something more than a total mistake. His little story was wrong for so many reasons, a lie so fabricated he was surprised they didn't suffocate in it. First of all, Molly wasn't his date, more of his wingman (wingwoman?), there simply to make sure everything wasn't awkward. She was the one who had to get Greg on board with the whole plan, and was also going to be the one to make everything a lot easier than it probably would be. She was going to treat Sherlock and John's relationship, however tense and forced it might be, as something normal, mainstream even, she was going to encourage them to be together even though she's never met John in her life. Sherlock was sure that Greg would be the exact same, encouraging to poor John while he has to step out of his comfort zone and into a car with a known homosexual and suspected rapist, sitting there alone, within arm's reach, in the dark. God this almost sounded like a setup, like a first degree murder! And poor John had no idea what was coming, he had no time to prepare, how on earth could he expect something like this, how could he accept something like this? I mean sure, he had seemed pretty keen in the street the other day, at least he seemed passionate enough to stand up for Sherlock's innocence even though he knew nothing of the topic, he even insisted that Sherlock wasn't a freak... And yet that could just be his nice personality, his good morality, it didn't mean that he was obligated to sit in on the world's most awkward triple date with a boy he probably had no interest in! This was a bad idea; this was such a bad idea... The doorbell rang not ten minutes later, and after a bunch of oohing and aweing and formal introductions, Molly was sent up to go get Sherlock. The poor girl looked almost overwhelmed by the praise she had been receiving downstairs, the family, no doubt, had been gushing all over her, Sherlock's first girlfriend. As if! Sherlock sat up even straighter in the chair, his hair brush falling from his limp fingers fearfully as Molly closed the door softly and gave him one of her radiant smiles. And yet even as inviting and excited as she was, he knew that she was leading him to the gallows, not to die but to suffer, and to watch others suffer around him!
"You ready?" she wondered hopefully, waving her little fists in the air as if cheering him on in his adventures to get a boyfriend.
"I think this is a bad idea." Sherlock said flatly, but nevertheless he got up rather clumsily from his chair.
"It's a great idea, it's brilliant, actually, it's a perfect way to get a guy." Molly said with a shrug. Sherlock shushed her agressivley, looking towards the door as if expecting his mother to be standing out in the hallway with her ear pressed against the wood.
"I feel like we're kind of...plotting against him. As if this is more like captivity." Sherlock muttered guiltily. Molly frowned for a moment, trying to think of an optimistic spin she could put on the whole thing.
"Think of it more like a surprise party. The recipient obviously didn't ask for it, but they're going to be glad that it happened!" Molly decided with a little squeal. Surprisingly that made Sherlock feel a little bit better, and her pathetic motivational quotes helped ease him mind just a tiny bit.
"I still feel rather...icky." Sherlock admitted with a frown. Molly just sighed, nodding in agreement and casting a sort of pitiful glance back at the door from which she came.
"Ya, me too. I'm sure your family would knight me if they had the opportunity, the poor people are just so happy to see you having a 'girlfriend'. And of course I'm just going behind their backs and helping you get a boyfriend." She admitted with a sort of pout. Sherlock hissed for her to be silent once more, glancing at himself in the mirror one last time to make sure he looked perfect. There was this horrible feeling of suspense in his stomach, eating away at his nerves so that he felt almost as if his limbs had been amputated long ago.
"Just to be sure, and like, I'm not trying to insult you or anything by asking, and of course you know, I'm not trying to be presumptuous it's just..."
"Just say it." Sherlock groaned, waving his hand carelessly. He hated listening to nervous babble, especially when he knew what was going to follow.
"You're not going to; you know...get too friendly too fast?" Molly wondered nervously, chewing on her cheek as if regretting even asking such a thing. Sherlock sighed heavily, his pale hands twitching nervously at the mere mention of his controversial past.
"Would you believe me if I told you I'm completely innocent?" Sherlock wondered. Molly took a deep breath of relief, patting her chest as though she had been given a great shock.
"I knew it! Oh thank God, you know, I just thought of that last night I'm like what if I'm helping a rapist find another victim but thank GOD you're not really a rapist you know I knew that I always suspected I'm like he's too nice to be a rapist." Molly declared all of that in one breath, rambling on and on and throwing that awful word out in the air so many times Sherlock almost winced. However it was nice to have one more person knowing the truth, she wasn't much, but she would spread his innocence around enough so that maybe, just maybe, more people would look at him less as a criminal and more as a victim.
"Are you ready to go then?" Sherlock wondered, looking over at Molly's outfit carelessly. She had obviously made some sort of effort to look pretty; she had a purple sundress on with a white shawl pulled tightly over her shoulders, with her hair braided in a very complicated looking train down her shoulder. She looked pretty, he couldn't ignore that fact, however no sort of heterosexual feelings even threatened to taint his mind, and so he bid farewell to Dr. Thompson and her hopeless therapy, at least for tonight. He had completed his task; at least, he had interacted very much with Molly, even if that interaction was plotting against everything he was supposed to be doing.
"Ya I'm ready, I mean...are you?" she wondered with a very nervous sort of tone. Sherlock looked at her curiously, trying to read whatever was going on in her small little brain. But it was obvious; her body language was almost the same as Sherlock's if not a little bit more natural, she was nervous.
"Seems I'm not the only one just wanting to get this over with." Sherlock muttered casually, pulling his trench coat from where it hung in the closet and pulling it over his shoulders dramatically.
"No I mean, well, ya I'm kind of nervous, first date jitters you know? He's such a nice guy, I just don't want to mess this all up with him. I don't want to bore him." Molly admitted with a sad little shrug. Sherlock just laughed, that idiot Greg Lestrade could entertain himself with a tin can for about three hours, the very idea that he could be bored while watching a movie with a pretty girl was almost laughable.
"Just bear in mind Molly that he goes to an all boy's school, your very presence will have him thoroughly entertained for however long this date may last." Sherlock assured with a reassuring little nod. Molly breathed a little bit easier; nodding her head along with Sherlock's as if that would somehow help her convince herself of the fact.
"Yes well, I have no idea why I'm coming to you and whining about how nervous I am, I mean you've got a lot more to worry about, at least I know that Greg likes me, at least Greg knows that I'm coming..."
"I'm going to stop you right there. You're supposed to be helping me leave, not further motivating me to hide under my bed." Sherlock insisted with a sort of accusing glare. Molly nodded, shutting her mouth as soon as Sherlock requested and wearing a look of obscene guilt upon her face.
"Maybe we should just go." Molly decided after a moment of awkward silence, and Sherlock nodded his agreement, checking his reflection once more in the mirror to make sure he looked beautiful before following Molly out of his room and into the hallway. They almost made it, Molly's hand was on the door handle but they were too late, Mrs. Holmes rushed out of the kitchen with speed she probably shouldn't have, a camera swinging around on her neck and a smile plastered upon her aged face.
"Wait, just one moment!" she called out hysterically, even though her mere presence had halted their planned escape effectively enough. Sherlock groaned, leaning against the banister of the staircase and wishing he could just tell his mother the truth, hoping that would at least convince her to leave him and this girl that meant nothing to him alone.
"Sherlock get closer to Molly, there we go, now put your arm around her, look happy you two!" Mrs. Holmes exclaimed excitedly, almost jumping up and down in her glee. Sherlock reluctantly put his arm around Molly's shoulders, to which she simply giggled and leaned closer, trying to make it look like there was something more than platonic between them. Sherlock made a point to apologize as soon as his mother was out of earshot. She took about ten pictures, all from different angles, and after trying to convince the poor teens to make silly faces Sherlock finally stepped away, waving his mother away and deflecting her kisses. He ducked past the two women and flung open the door, bidding his mother good night and beckoning Molly to follow him to the safety of solitude. As soon as the door was closed Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief, half running the sidewalk to collect his mother's car.
"I'm so sorry about that Molly, she's a nightmare." Sherlock groaned, feeling around in his trench coat for the keys he had obtained before Molly's arrival.
"Oh it's fine Sherlock, she's just enthusiastic, that's all." Molly assured with a smile, a sort of pity in her voice as she thought back to what Mrs. Holmes's true hopes had been.
"Where are you parked then?" Sherlock asked, quickly changing the subject so that his mind didn't dwell on how much of a family disgrace he was becoming.
"Oh just around the corner, do you want to drive me there, just in case your mother is watching us from the window?" Molly suggested. Sherlock sighed heavily, glancing back at the front windows to see the lacy white curtains moving ever so slightly, and nodded in agreement.
"Ya, good idea." He agreed, and led Molly to their pathetic little two car garage. He took some pride in being able to take his mother's car, which was the nicer of the two clunkers. It had functioning air conditioning and everything, as opposed to Mr. Holmes's car, which had so many issues Sherlock was surprised it still ran properly. Sherlock took the wheel while Molly clambered into the passenger seat, and together they rolled out of the driveway and to where Molly's cute little lilac car was parked.
"Do you know the way?" Molly asked as she opened her door, hoping daintily out onto the pavement and looking at Sherlock with a soft smile.
"No, I've never had reason to go before." Sherlock admitted while shaking his head.
"Well just follow me, alright? It's not far." Molly assured, and with one final smile she went around the back of Sherlock's car to her own, clambering into the driver's seat and taking off down the road. Sherlock tried his best to follow, however Molly proved to be a very crazy driver, speeding and taking turns way to fast, a sort of driving style that astounded Sherlock to say the least. But she had been right about one thing, the drive in wasn't far, in fact it wasn't even ten minutes away, a little bit out of the city and in some sort of wide open field. Sherlock's stomach trembled nervously as he pulled his car into the long line of car waiting to get in, knowing that this would be the very spot that John met him. He wasn't prepared at all, he hadn't thought of any conversational topics, he hadn't thought of a single thing to do, he didn't even know if John would show up! He was going to be disappointed; Sherlock knew that much for sure. John was promised one of Molly's friends, and being one of the most popular girls in the school he was sure to have thought up some sort of high school fashion model as his date, and when he saw scrawny little Sherlock, the look on his face was going to be ghastly! What would he do, what would he say, oh what if he turns back, what if he runs away? Sherlock would lose the only boy he had ever wanted to be closer to, all because of a little bit of misinformation! Sherlock was already turning quite numb with nervousness and he hadn't even passed into the theater yet, he hadn't even met the unfortunate soul that would be his involuntary date. When finally Sherlock was able to pull up to the counter he was handed a ticket and a little speaker to put on his dashboard, and with trembling hands he accepted the little trinkets and dumped them into the passenger seat.
"The lady up there paid for you, in the lilac car, so you're good to go." The man at the booth said with a careless shrug, waving Sherlock's car along to get the line moving. Sherlock just nodded nervously, easing off the brake and letting his car roll forward into the large field. There were parking rows made out on the muddy, trodden grass in white spray paint however everyone was just parking wherever they wanted. Molly was driving up to the back of the lot, where no one except daring teenagers parked when they were more interested in who was beside them than what was going on in the movie. There was a large white screen assembled towards the front of the field, with a massive projector set up somewhere in the middle. It was currently turned off, as it was still somewhere around six thirty, so it was too bright to put the movie on just yet. Sherlock still didn't know what movie they were watching, nor did he care. Whatever it was, he hoped it was distracting enough for John so that he could momentarily forget about the possessive creep that sat in the driver's seat. When they got their cars parked nice and excluded from the rest of the stalling vehicles Molly hopped out and grabbed some things from her car, knocking on the window of Sherlock's so that he would unlock the doors and let her in. He fumbled at the locks and Molly finally stumbled in, closing the door tightly and getting herself situated in the passenger seat.
"Sarah should be here soon, I told her to meet us in the far back." Molly muttered, scanning the rows upon rows of cars all showing up to the movie an hour and a half early, as if they wanted to be first in line for popcorn or something.
"Ya alright. She knows the plan then? She knows to keep quiet?" Sherlock wondered in a sort of nervous voice, doubting the secrecy of Gossip #1 and #2.
"She's fine; she knows when to keep her mouth shut, just like I do. Mint?" Molly wondered, cracking open a tin can of mints and holding it over to Sherlock. He nodded thankfully, taking one of the mints with his shaking white fingers and popping it into his mouth. For a while he just sucked at the minty freshness, taking the mint's occupation in his mouth to be a good excuse not to start any sort of conversation.
"So you don't think this is weird, right? You don't think he'll...run away?" Sherlock wondered nervously, glancing at Molly before keeping his eyes fixed on the steering wheel in front of him.
"I don't know enough about John to vouch for him, but what you've told me about your relationship I can only image he'll be willing to stay." Molly assured.
"I haven't told you anything about our relationship, when did I..."
"Sorry, Greg filled me in. I get my sources mixed up sometimes." Molly admitted with a guilty sort of shrug. Sherlock nodded, muttering a weak little 'oh'.
"So wait, he filled you in on everything? Like...he told you everything?" Sherlock wondered nervously, peering this way and that and crunching down hard on whatever was left of the mint in his mouth.
"Ya well, not in great detail, he just mentioned that you and John were at the dance together, and that John had been trying to find you for a while, and was all inquisitive..."
"Wait John said that? John's...inquisitive?" Sherlock wondered almost immediately, gawking at Molly and probably looking beyond helpless. Molly just laughed, nodding in agreement and looking so happy to have been able to befriend such a freak.
"Yes of course, Greg told me that he's always talking about you, and if not talking about you then he's thinking about you, asking about you, staring at some sort of paper...I'd say he's properly obsessed." Molly assured after a while. Sherlock felt as if some sort of huge weight was lifted off of his shoulders, oh thank God, John loved him, obviously John loved him, this was good news. Maybe John would actually be happy to see him... No. Think pessimistically, that way if the worst happens you'll be prepared, and if anything better happens you'll be pleasantly surprised. Sherlock's mottos were always a tad depressing, and yet he was never disappointed when the universe pummeled him underneath its feet. He was always prepared for disaster, expecting it really, and he was sure that tonight would be no different. Nothing ever went Sherlock's way; nothing ever made him suspect a higher power looking after him, and tonight was no exception of course. Everything that could go wrong will go wrong, at least that's how it usually went.