Turn to Steam And Other Stories

Lead Me Through The Valleys

LEAD ME THROUGH THE VALLEYS 

(Contains Mild Spoilers for "His Last Vow") 

Sherlock dismayed at the taste of the poor hospital food he had been served and tried to watch an episode of Countdown on the small portable television that had been brought in at his request. 

Watching this vintage whine of TV quiz shows cast his memories back to someone he knew of when visiting a mental ward during a previous investigation. The patient was convinced that the person opposite him watching Countdown was trying to break open his mind and access the information stored in his vast cerebral mainframe and use it to win the game. 

The hacking of a mind palace. 

Better yet, in reality, the man's mental instability was like a mind palace being overrun by Huns. A fascinating prospect. 

Sherlock gagged as he tucked into his meal for the evening. This wasn't remotely regulated hospital food. It was airline food. 

Someone tending to him clearly wasn't a fan. 

Given the recent headlines in the papers, he could understand the treatment. 

'Bastard' came a sharp, all too familiar voice ringing in his head, disrupting his mental 

"Shut up" Sherlock muttered 

'Sexist' came another 

"Shut up" Sherlock said, his voice growing stronger. 

'Honey trap' came another. 

"SHUT UP" Sherlock bellowed, then, just as the streak of aggression kicked in, he sank back into his bed. 

Honey trap? 

That was too sexy to be an insult. 

That's when he knew the morphine was kicking in again and making him high on his own giddy crackpot theories he would entertain himself with. In days where he spent playing by himself in the living room of his parents house...until Mycroft would waltz in for a bit of light reading and interrupt the flow of the creativity. 

Holmes often took quite a fit whenever that happened, even prompting himself to push Mycroft out of the room. 

Even back then he was keen to sow seeds of disconnection. 

A nurse disrupted his thought process again just as he was calming himself down. 

"Mr. Holmes? You have a visitor...a Ms. Hooper?" 

"Send her in" Sherlock said, letting out a sigh he commonly associated with uncovering low-tar tobacco in the 'hardly knew ye' cigarettes Mycroft would supply him in periods of all too brief mourning. 

The nurse led Molly in. She stood upright, dressed in a light brown overcoat and brandishing a small pink bag, and loomed over Sherlock in a peculiar and empowering way. 

"If you're going to administer another of your reality slaps, please be informed I am in a delicate stare of bodily repair" 

"You used a woman" she said, taking out one newspaper from her bag and holding it up to his face. "HOLMES-WRECKER" was splashed all over the front page. 

As he had learned earlier during Janine's visit, his now ex-fiancé that he had manipulated to gain access to master blackmailer Charles Augustus Magnusson's office had indeed been thorough with her details. 

"Yes, yes, I went the direct approach with Janine, it's not a reminder I care for first thing in the morning. She actually dropped in and supplied me with all the wear and tear one expects from a played pawn" 

"You make it sound like a funny old game" Molly replied lightly, but gradually a disciplinary shift soon established itself in her mannerisms, "...but it's human lives you're playing with Sherlock. People are real. I thought that's what you were steadily becoming all year...real. That's why I broke the engagement to Tom off...I figured, compared to the reality of my situation that..." 

"...The fantasy was over" Sherlock said 

"Great expectations" Molly whispered meekly, placing her hand on the bed and delicately dancing her fingertips across the bed sheets. 

"Human error Molly" Sherlock replied, clutching her hand and grasping it tightly. 

"So what now? Do you need anyone?" 

"Anything" Sherlock uttered, correcting her. 

"That too" Molly countered. 

"I need to go into Space" Sherlock replied 

"You need space?" Molly responded 

"Look in between the letters Hooper. S.P.A.C.E: Specifically Personal Analytical Case Evaluation. It's crucial to understanding where to go from this point forward. There are people who are going to be hurt when I leave this ward, I need to find a way of keeping things contained within a certain level of comfort for all involved. S.P.A.C.E is what's required to sort it all out" 

"Look that's just a clever way of saying you want a bit of time to string your thoughts together. It's ok to say it in a much simpler way Sherlock. You don't have to sound so complicated. Not with me Sherlock. I see what you mean, I see right through you. All of the time. You can do all of this with a look and I could understand it" 

"All this time leading me through the valleys of death and life, in dreams and in reality, and there's always one thing you consistently command from me. The one thing that counts for the one woman who counts...my utmost respect" 

"Just say you're sorry. Say it for Janine, just pretend she's in the room" Molly replied, smirking. 

"Very well...forgive me for hurting Janine, and as always, forgive me for being as callous as I normally am Molly Hooper" Sherlock replied. 

"I'll arrange the space for you at the house for when you're up on your feet, I'll bolt you up in my bedroom as usual" Molly assured him, "In the meantime don't go climbing out of a window or anything" 

"No rush" Sherlock said, an aura of whimsy in his sharply toned voice. 

Molly giggled, kissed him on the forehead, and waltzed out of the room and down the corridor, singing a light hearted tune to herself. 

As soon as she left, Sherlock set about preparing his escape from the hospital. He had things to do. He had to tell John of the altercation with Mary at Magnusson's office where he had danced with death, find out what hold Magnusson had on her, and do everything he could to ensure both came out of the ordeal much safer for the trouble. 

The game was on. 

As he looked out at the open window, he smiled 

Molly, in her own way, had led him down the valley again. He now had the perfect way out. 

Bless the woman. 

He wouldn't go direct to Molly's bolt hole. No. He had an empty house prepared just for what he needed to do regarding Mary. 

Molly had led him down many valleys, but the one that lead to great uncertainty was not one he would permit her to journey down. 

This way, she would be safe. 

"Bugger" Sherlock thought, "That makes two vows"