Title: Something More Sinister Chapter 6
Disclaimer: Not mine
Molly and Irene sat beside one another in between James and John. Molly wasn't sure why Sherlock had allowed James to be beside her instead of him. She could only imagine he had hoped that it would torment her in some way.
James did most of the talking. He spoke about the Sherlock of her world. He spoke of how he had seen Sherlock just the other day and he showed no signs of being upset by Molly's disappearance. He told her that Sherlock had been coming and going to and from the morgue as if nothing had changed. Of course, he was lying to her, but she had no way of knowing that. And in the desperation of her situation, she seemed to find truth in his words.
She struggled not to cry as she listened, her heart aching. She could see her Sherlock in her mind. His blue eyes that were inquisitive much like a child's. She willed herself to be surrounded by the memory of the velvet baritone of his voice and she allowed it to drape a protective layer of warmth around her.
It was a great comfort having Irene with her and she was thankful to Irene for her kindness, especially when she felt Irene take her hand under the table. Irene held Molly's hand the rest of the dinner, giving it gentle squeezes when James said something particularly cutting about her world and Sherlock. Molly was certain that she would not have been able to bear the evening if Irene were not with her. And Irene appreciated Molly just as much. Both women holding onto the other as if to remind themselves that neither of them was alone in this hell.
Dinner didn't last very long, as neither woman ate much. Sherlock singled for the waiter to bring the check, which James jerked from his hand before Sherlock could take it. Sherlock glared and James grinned, as was their usual way. After the check had been taken care of, Sherlock stood, letting everyone know it was time to go.
"Must you always be in such a rush, Sherlock? Good food, excellent wine, and superb conversation are meant to be savored."
"Superb conversation when it's you doing all of the talking, isn't that what you meant to say, James?" John asked standing and placing a possessive hand on Irene's arm, pulling her up.
Molly stood up and stayed beside Irene. John had allowed Irene to pull away from him and walk arm and arm with Molly. John had just started out the door with both women following him.
Molly stumbled and shrieked when she was jerked violently backward by Sherlock. He tucked her arm in his giving John a hateful glare. John shrugged and turned back around to leave.
"John, you left something of yours behind." Sherlock hissed.
James shook his head. "Now, now, boys, let's play nice. There are ladies present."
John sighed. "Sherlock, I do not feel the need to keep Irene in my grasp 24 hours a day. Where exactly would she go if she tried to run?"
"It shows proper ownership, John! Do you want other men stalking what is yours?"
John smiled a vicious smile. "Let someone come and try to take her." John's gaze fell to Irene. "But if it will improve your foul mood, then by all means..." He held out his hand to Irene. She glanced back at Molly before taking John's hand.
Once Molly had been shoved into the car by an annoyed Sherlock, she turned to James.
"Where are we going?"
"Sherlock seems to be under the impression that you need incentive to behave yourself. He wants to show you just how terrible life would be for you without him." James leaned closer to Molly, his breath against the nape of her neck, placing his hand on her knee. To Molly's credit, she didn't even flinch. Partly out of spite for Sherlock as she wasn't sure what had prompted his aggressive behavior towards her and Irene.
"Don't worry your pretty little head, kitten. If Sherlock ever decides to put you out, you can always find a nice warm bed with me."
"Enough, James! And take your hand off what is mine!" Sherlock snapped. The ferociousness in his eyes frightened Molly and she unconsciously scooted closer to James which irritated Sherlock even more. James of course found this delightful.
Sherlock grabbed Molly's wrist and jerked her back against him. He put his arm around her, keeping her flush against him as the car drove on. James tried not to snicker. Molly tried gently to scoot away, but that made Sherlock angrier.
"Are you already forgetting your place, Molly? It is by my side! Have I not made that clear enough or should I just shove you against the seat now and fuck you into oblivion to remind you. I doubt James would mind the show."
"No, I wouldn't mind, but I'm afraid it is a bit cramped back here. Perhaps you could wait to fuck her until we reach our destination. Then you could simply bend her over the car if you like."
Molly was shaking violently by this point. As fun as James thought this was, he didn't want her fainting, especially before they reached the club. James cleared his throat and smiled at Sherlock.
"You really are such a bore sometimes Sherlock. I would never have teased her if I had none you would get so pissy."
Sherlock made a sound in his throat that closely resembled a growl. He glared at James before looking back at Molly, who was staring at him wide eyed and with fear. Her skin was flushed and her hands were trembling. Suddenly, the anger he had been feeling left him. He had wanted her to fear him, but only to respect him. He sighed and took her hand in his.
"I apologize for my harshness, Molly. Spending any length of time with James can take a considerable amount of patience and apparently, I have reached my limit. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
"Oh yes, by all means, place the blame on me." James said in mock indignation.
The rest of the ride was uneventful. When the car finally pulled to the curb and stopped, Molly was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. It seemed as if they had been driving forever. Sherlock got out first, holding out his hand for her to take, which she did obediently. Molly was horrified by what she saw. It was worse than any slum she had ever seen. The streets were littered with garbage and debris. Buildings sat in decay. Glass littered the streets. There were people lying on corners and in doorways. All were filthy and in tattered clothing. Sherlock began to walk and he pulled her along with him. She watched the people as she walked by, all of them begging and pleading for any kind of scrap. She could smell human and animal waste mixed with the stench of death. Molly had never been bothered by the dead, but to see dead bodies bloated and lying about with no respect or human dignity, tears filled her eyes.
The smell became almost over powering the further they walked. Sherlock held her hand tightly in his and Molly was so upset by what she saw, she didn't notice that she had placed her hand over his. She glanced back at Irene, who although did not seemed surprised by what she saw, had tremendous sadness is her eyes. Her hand was clamped firmly onto the hand that John had on her arm.
Molly had witnessed poverty and the homeless, she had seen sadness and a loss of hope, but there was such despair in the eyes of the people she passed, it almost took her breath. She stopped in her tracks when she saw a small child, a little girl of about six years old, rummaging through the pockets of a dead man. The girl was covered in filth and grime and was the most pitiful thing Molly had ever seen. Sherlock huffed in impatience and jerked her forward forcing her to continue on.
Molly wanted to ask where were the government agencies that were supposed to help these poor people, but realized the foolishness of her question. There was no one to help, not in this world. Molly gave a sideway glance to Sherlock who was on her left and then to James who was on her right. The horror of this place was so tangible, she was actually almost glad to have Sherlock and James beside her.
Molly looked back to Irene, who smiled a sad little smile at her. Sherlock jerked Molly forward again, causing her to stumble.
"Perhaps you should watch where you are walking." Sherlock snapped.
She looked up at him, eyes wide not understanding his hostility. James of course, noticed the interaction and just couldn't help himself.
"You'll have to excuse Sherlock, kitten; he gets awfully possessive and jealous. He probably thought you were trying to give John the glad eye."
Sherlock ignored him as they continued walking. Finally, James slowed and stood in front of a decaying building with crass lights and music coming from inside. He began to walk up the steps when a scream was heard from around the corner. James, John, and Sherlock ignored it of course.
The girl screamed again and began pleading in what sounded to Molly like a different language. She couldn't be sure due to the noise coming from inside of the building. She noticed that Irene had stopped in her tracks and had paled considerable.
Irene wretched herself free from John and ran back down the steps. John was on her in a flash and tackled her. "Irene, what is the hell is the matter with you?"
She looked pleadingly at Molly. Molly turned, kicked Sherlock as hard as she cold in the shin and pulled free, barely missing being grabbed by James. Molly ran down the steps and around the corner. She could hear Sherlock and James right behind her, Sherlock cursing at her enraged.
As Molly turned the corner, her eyes instantly found the reason for the pleading. On the ground, underneath a very large man, was a petite Asian girl, no more than 18 or 19, with her dress shoved up around her waist. The top of the dress had been ripped into, exposing the young woman completely. She was bleeding from a very large gash on her forehead and from another wound on her leg that looked to be very serious by the amount of blood pooling.
Molly didn't even have time to process all she was seeing before she reacted. She reached down and grabbed an empty wine bottle, ran to the man and smashed it over his head. He howled in pain and rage. Molly kicked him as hard as she could in his side and when he rolled over, she stomped on his groin.
Sherlock, James, Irene and John stood behind Molly silently watching her. Molly was not even aware of their presence until another man grabbed her by her hair and jerked her away from the man she had just kicked.
"You little slut…" The man hissed in her ear before he screamed in pain. He let go of Molly as he slid down her body and onto the ground.
She looked down in shock as the man clutched his neck, blood oozing through his fingers. She turned to look behind her and saw James holding a bloodied knife. He took her arm and pulled her away from the man.
"How many times must I tell you, Jack? You do not touch things that don't belong to you." James said kneeling beside the dying man.
"Mo…Moriarty…" The man gurgled
Molly turned back and looked at Sherlock, as if he or John should do something. They both stood watching impassively.
"Did you bring your revolver, Sherlock?"
Sherlock nodded and walked over to James and the dying man.
"You don't mind, do you? Sherlock?" James asked.
"Not at all." Sherlock said as he pointed the revolver directly in Jacks's face and pulled the trigger.
The young woman who had been attacked screamed with fright and Molly went to her, wrapping her arms around her.
Molly was stunned. She had never seen anyone murdered before. Molly felt herself being enveloped by arms and turned to see Irene beside her. She noticed Irene was looking at the young girl with such compassion.
James turned to the other man, the one Molly had attacked and looked back at Sherlock. Sherlock nodded and turned his gun at the man, shooting him point blank in the head. The young girl cried out in fear again. Molly tightened her arms around the girl.
James wiped the blood off his knife as Sherlock put his revolver away. Both men turned to look at Molly. A disgusted look crossed both their faces.
"Molly!" James snapped, "What on Earth are you doing? Get up before you are covered in filth by that thing is your arms." James yanked her to her feet and shoved her at Sherlock. He reached down and grabbed Irene, gripping both her arms painfully, "And you, my sweet. You know better than to contaminate yourself with such filth."
James shoved her into John's arms. "Perhaps Irene is due for another lesson, John. She's getting to flippant."
John said nothing as he pulled Irene back against him. Sherlock let go of Molly and grabbed the young woman off the ground by her hair.
"No!" Molly screamed and tried to stop Sherlock before finding herself trapped against James.
Sherlock jerked the girl's head back painfully by her hair. "Such trouble for this?" He sneered. Sherlock motioned for one of his men to take her. "Take her and shoot her. Amuse yourself first with her, if you would like. Consider it a gift for such loyal service."
The man smiled a terrible smile at Sherlock and grabbed the girl who started screaming again.
Molly started fighting wildly trying to get away from James, but he was too strong. He yelped when she bit him and he released her. Molly charged Sherlock's henchman and shoved him hard. The thug let go of the girl and raised his hand to hit Molly, when he dropped dead from a bullet to his face. Molly turned to see Sherlock behind her once again holding his gun.
"Molly…you are causing quite a bit of trouble tonight. I guess I will have to take care of this myself." Sherlock said reaching out for the girl as Molly pushed her behind her and screamed at Sherlock. "No! What in the hell is wrong with all of you! She's just a child! My God, what kind of place is this?" Molly's eyes were flaring with anger.
John sighed loudly. "Of for god's sakes Sherlock let her keep the little twit if she wants. Anything to hurry up this agony."
Sherlock regarded Molly carefully. "Would that make you happy, love? If I spared her?"
"Yes." Molly answered with no hesitation.
"If I give you this little pet, you will be indebted to me even more so that you are now. Are you prepared for what that means?"
Molly swallowed her, but her eyes were determined. She ignored the wave of nauseas that arose at the implications of his words.
This was her reality now. She knew it was only a matter of time before he killed her or did something worse. Even though Molly was terrified and her heart was breaking beyond repair, she could not, would not leave this girl to her fate. Even if she was doomed to stay in this hell, she would save one girl if she could
"Yes, I am prepared for the consequences. Now, leave her alone." Molly's voice was strong and clear.
Sherlock smiled and shoved the girl into Molly's arms. Molly led her back around the corner towards where the cars were parked.
The car ride back to Baker's Street was quiet except for the soft cries of the young woman. Molly held her, stroking her hair, trying to quiet her. She was terrified Sherlock or James would become angry and shoot her or worse, toss her back to the streets. James seemed to be in as good a mood as ever, Sherlock on the other hand appeared to be brooding.
Finally the car pulled to the curb in front of 221 Baker Street. Sherlock opened the door got out and pulled Molly out, shutting the car door before the girl could get out. Before Molly could say anything, Sherlock spoke. "Calm yourself Molly. I assure you that she will be quite safe. James is taking her to my family home where we will be leaving for tomorrow."
"But you said…"
"I know what I said, love. And I mean to keep my word. The girl will be safe and no one will touch her, James will make sure of that."
Sherlock stepped back to the car and spoke a few moments with James. Molly could not make out what they were saying. Irene stood on the top of the stairs in front of the door watching silently. John had already gone inside. The Rolls Royce slowly pulled away.
Sherlock turned to Molly. "I am sorry that you had to witness all you did tonight, but it was necessary, my dear. You need to understand where you would be if not for my protection. Maybe you will be a bit more grateful in the future."
Molly seethed in anger at his words. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she balled her tiny hands into fists. "I'm only here because of you and Jim! Why should I be grateful to you? Grateful for what? Kidnapping me? Taking me away from my family, my friends, and my home? How dare you! You expect me to fall on my knees and grovel to you and your psycho best friend? I was taken against my will. I owe you nothing, especially not my gratitude, you evil bastard!"
"Molly, please, stop it." Irene pleaded.
Molly cried out when Sherlock grabbed her arms in a vice grip. He shook her violently as he spoke, "It is interesting that you should speak of being on your knees and groveling because that is exactly where you will be tonight and every night until I tire of you. And maybe, if you are lucky and I have not used you too badly, James will take the scraps because if not, you had better learn to love these streets because that is where you will spend the rest of your wretched existence."
He began dragging her inside before turning to her once more. "I hope your new pet is all that you hope for, love, because the price of her freedom will be paid for tonight."