Jekyll's Secret (Chapter 7)
Sweet Idiot
She shivered when Martin looked at her in the same way as Sherlock did on the night he “died”. Molly was drawn by Martin’s eyes, the similar green eyes full of determination and sadness as Sherlock’s. The man in front of her was not Sherlock, Molly reminded herself, Sherlock was probably somewhere in Italy fighting his battle. They were on their own.
“I won’t let him hurt you, Molly.” Martin made a promise to her.
He couldn’t even protect himself. How could he save her?
Such an idiot.
But a sweet one.
Molly’s expression softened. Knowing this man less than a day, yet Molly felt that she could trust him as if they had acquainted for years. Her thoughts were interrupted when the plane started to dip down so Molly rushed back to the back seats and pretended to be asleep.
Moran came out of the cabin with a winning smirk around the corner of his mouth. Molly had no idea where they were but she reckoned that they were at a low altitude judging from the sights outside. Moran opened the emergency exit, looked out and shouted. “Where’s he? Where’s Sherlock BLOODY Holmes?” The wind blew through the door so strongly that all the people on the plane woke up.
Molly was frozen from head to toes.
Moran knew. How could he possibly know that Sherlock was alive?
Among the noises of the blowing wind, John laughed bitterly, “He’s dead! You nuts!”
Moran turned and said, “Oh no, doctor! It was an empty coffin. I dug.”
Molly wasn’t so sure what the ground said but it must be something really upsetting because Moran immediately drew the pistol and went to grab her savagely. She tried to resist him but he was too strong. “How about I shooting Sherlock’s little girlfriend first?” Moran dragged her to the opening with a gun pointed at her head.
Now she could see Lestrade and some police cars underneath. The plane was spiraling above a lake.
“How about I count to three?” Moran fired off as string of abuse.
“One.” Molly struggled desperately but she couldn’t get out of Moran’s arm.
“Two.” She stepped on Moran’s left foot but he held her still.
“Three.” She closed her eyes.
“Wait!” Martin’s voice came from behind, “You want Sherlock Holmes? Alright. I’m Sherlock Holmes.”
Molly opened her eyes shockingly. Moran watched Martin in such disbelief that he let Molly go unconsciously. John looked at Martin with mouth agape.
“Shoot me if you want.” Martin attempted to keep his voice steady, “Don’t hurt the others.”
“So you are saying you are Sherlock Holmes?” Moran laughed. “You gotta be kidding me. You look like Sherlock Homes, I will give you that, but you are no Sherlock Holmes.”
“It was all an act.” Martin argued.
No, it wasn’t. Molly knew it. Martin was definitely not Sherlock. She could feel it by heart. Sherlock was vodka and Martin was champagne. He was just saying that so she wouldn’t be killed while exposing himself under threats.
No one had done that for her before.
Had she mentioned that Martin was a sweet idiot?
“Awww...That’s heart-warming…pretending to be Sherlock Holmes to save the girl.” Moran mocked, “Since you want to die for her so much, I might just make your wish come true.” Moran aimed the gun at Martin.
Molly looked around. If Moran was taken out, the rest might have a chance of survival. She was touched by Martin’s gesture. It was brave that he wanted to sacrifice for her. If they had met under different circumstances, she might have asked Martin out and they would have made a cute couple.
But life wasn’t a fairy tale. She took a deep breath and just when Moran was about to pull the trigger, Molly seized Moran from behind and jumped out of the plane.
Moran cursed loudly.
As Molly was falling, she smiled at the thought that someone was once willing to die for her.
“No!!!” John shouted.
A dark figure followed Molly and jumped immediately.
John knocked off the man beside him. He looked back to where Martin was seating. Only two pairs of handcuffs left hanging openly on Martin’s seat.
She couldn’t breathe. Her head felt heavy and she kept falling under the water no matter how hard she struggled to move her limbs around. Some air bubbles went up through her hair and fingers. She was like the little mermaid but minus the ability to swim. It was dark and chilly. She didn’t know where Moran was but she hoped her sacrifice was worth something.
It was said that when people were dying, their life would run through their brains like horse race lamp.
For her, she saw Sherlock. Sherlock was swimming to her, but she couldn’t see his face clearly. He shook her but she was too weak to respond. He held her in his arms, opened his mouth and pressed his lips against hers to pass air to her. Her mouth was closed at first but then gradually she respired and blew air into his mouth, too.
She closed her eyes. She must be hallucinating due to the lack of oxygen. Sherlock was not her knight in shining armor to rescue her, let alone kissing her. But this illusion was nice. If she was dying, drowning in the arms and on the lips of her love was romantic, even if it only existed in her imagination.
Too bad that she never told that insufferable prick that she loved him, or slapped him.
Then everything went black.
“Care to explain what’s going on, Sherlock?” About half an hour later, John watched Sherlock held Molly up from the water and the EMTs lifted soaking-wet and unconscious Molly to the ambulance.
“I don’t have time.” Sherlock covered his bleeding wounds, “Do you trust me, John?”
“I can’t believe you even ask me that question.” John was angry.
“Promise me.” Was Sherlock actually begging? John wasn’t sure what to say to those eyes of Sherlock Holmes. “Protect her.”
John was silent. He carefully looked at Sherlock up and down.
“Please.”
“You know I will.” John couldn’t understand what really happened but he would anyway because Molly was his friend.
Sherlock had died in front of his very own eyes and now he was back. Sherlock cared about Molly but he made John swear to take care of her. There were too many mysteries around Sherlock. John trusted Sherlock to tell him one day.
John stayed to give statement to the police and Sherlock got on the same ambulance with Molly. Before the EMTs closed the door, John noticed that Sherlock was holding Molly’s hand.
“Hello?” Molly was in a field with nobody around but the green grass.
“I won’t let him hurt you, Molly.” She heard someone speaking. She turned around but found no one.
“Anybody there?”
Then out of nowhere the clouds formed Sherlock’s face.
“I won’t let him hurt you, Molly.” He said.
Dispersed by the breeze, the clouds moved and showed Martin’s face.
“I promise.” Martin gave her a comforting smile.
Molly suddenly woke up. Martin was asleep near her bed with stiches on his head. She could hear the stable sound of the machine and smell the flowers on the table. Martin purred a little when Molly fiddled his hair.
Martin was a bit like her cat, Toby, and Molly grinned at her own joke.
She shivered when Martin looked at her in the same way as Sherlock did on the night he “died”. Molly was drawn by Martin’s eyes, the similar green eyes full of determination and sadness as Sherlock’s. The man in front of her was not Sherlock, Molly reminded herself, Sherlock was probably somewhere in Italy fighting his battle. They were on their own.
“I won’t let him hurt you, Molly.” Martin made a promise to her.
He couldn’t even protect himself. How could he save her?
Such an idiot.
But a sweet one.
Molly’s expression softened. Knowing this man less than a day, yet Molly felt that she could trust him as if they had acquainted for years. Her thoughts were interrupted when the plane started to dip down so Molly rushed back to the back seats and pretended to be asleep.
Moran came out of the cabin with a winning smirk around the corner of his mouth. Molly had no idea where they were but she reckoned that they were at a low altitude judging from the sights outside. Moran opened the emergency exit, looked out and shouted. “Where’s he? Where’s Sherlock BLOODY Holmes?” The wind blew through the door so strongly that all the people on the plane woke up.
Molly was frozen from head to toes.
Moran knew. How could he possibly know that Sherlock was alive?
Among the noises of the blowing wind, John laughed bitterly, “He’s dead! You nuts!”
Moran turned and said, “Oh no, doctor! It was an empty coffin. I dug.”
Molly wasn’t so sure what the ground said but it must be something really upsetting because Moran immediately drew the pistol and went to grab her savagely. She tried to resist him but he was too strong. “How about I shooting Sherlock’s little girlfriend first?” Moran dragged her to the opening with a gun pointed at her head.
Now she could see Lestrade and some police cars underneath. The plane was spiraling above a lake.
“How about I count to three?” Moran fired off as string of abuse.
“One.” Molly struggled desperately but she couldn’t get out of Moran’s arm.
“Two.” She stepped on Moran’s left foot but he held her still.
“Three.” She closed her eyes.
“Wait!” Martin’s voice came from behind, “You want Sherlock Holmes? Alright. I’m Sherlock Holmes.”
Molly opened her eyes shockingly. Moran watched Martin in such disbelief that he let Molly go unconsciously. John looked at Martin with mouth agape.
“Shoot me if you want.” Martin attempted to keep his voice steady, “Don’t hurt the others.”
“So you are saying you are Sherlock Holmes?” Moran laughed. “You gotta be kidding me. You look like Sherlock Homes, I will give you that, but you are no Sherlock Holmes.”
“It was all an act.” Martin argued.
No, it wasn’t. Molly knew it. Martin was definitely not Sherlock. She could feel it by heart. Sherlock was vodka and Martin was champagne. He was just saying that so she wouldn’t be killed while exposing himself under threats.
No one had done that for her before.
Had she mentioned that Martin was a sweet idiot?
“Awww...That’s heart-warming…pretending to be Sherlock Holmes to save the girl.” Moran mocked, “Since you want to die for her so much, I might just make your wish come true.” Moran aimed the gun at Martin.
Molly looked around. If Moran was taken out, the rest might have a chance of survival. She was touched by Martin’s gesture. It was brave that he wanted to sacrifice for her. If they had met under different circumstances, she might have asked Martin out and they would have made a cute couple.
But life wasn’t a fairy tale. She took a deep breath and just when Moran was about to pull the trigger, Molly seized Moran from behind and jumped out of the plane.
Moran cursed loudly.
As Molly was falling, she smiled at the thought that someone was once willing to die for her.
“No!!!” John shouted.
A dark figure followed Molly and jumped immediately.
John knocked off the man beside him. He looked back to where Martin was seating. Only two pairs of handcuffs left hanging openly on Martin’s seat.
She couldn’t breathe. Her head felt heavy and she kept falling under the water no matter how hard she struggled to move her limbs around. Some air bubbles went up through her hair and fingers. She was like the little mermaid but minus the ability to swim. It was dark and chilly. She didn’t know where Moran was but she hoped her sacrifice was worth something.
It was said that when people were dying, their life would run through their brains like horse race lamp.
For her, she saw Sherlock. Sherlock was swimming to her, but she couldn’t see his face clearly. He shook her but she was too weak to respond. He held her in his arms, opened his mouth and pressed his lips against hers to pass air to her. Her mouth was closed at first but then gradually she respired and blew air into his mouth, too.
She closed her eyes. She must be hallucinating due to the lack of oxygen. Sherlock was not her knight in shining armor to rescue her, let alone kissing her. But this illusion was nice. If she was dying, drowning in the arms and on the lips of her love was romantic, even if it only existed in her imagination.
Too bad that she never told that insufferable prick that she loved him, or slapped him.
Then everything went black.
“Care to explain what’s going on, Sherlock?” About half an hour later, John watched Sherlock held Molly up from the water and the EMTs lifted soaking-wet and unconscious Molly to the ambulance.
“I don’t have time.” Sherlock covered his bleeding wounds, “Do you trust me, John?”
“I can’t believe you even ask me that question.” John was angry.
“Promise me.” Was Sherlock actually begging? John wasn’t sure what to say to those eyes of Sherlock Holmes. “Protect her.”
John was silent. He carefully looked at Sherlock up and down.
“Please.”
“You know I will.” John couldn’t understand what really happened but he would anyway because Molly was his friend.
Sherlock had died in front of his very own eyes and now he was back. Sherlock cared about Molly but he made John swear to take care of her. There were too many mysteries around Sherlock. John trusted Sherlock to tell him one day.
John stayed to give statement to the police and Sherlock got on the same ambulance with Molly. Before the EMTs closed the door, John noticed that Sherlock was holding Molly’s hand.
“Hello?” Molly was in a field with nobody around but the green grass.
“I won’t let him hurt you, Molly.” She heard someone speaking. She turned around but found no one.
“Anybody there?”
Then out of nowhere the clouds formed Sherlock’s face.
“I won’t let him hurt you, Molly.” He said.
Dispersed by the breeze, the clouds moved and showed Martin’s face.
“I promise.” Martin gave her a comforting smile.
Molly suddenly woke up. Martin was asleep near her bed with stiches on his head. She could hear the stable sound of the machine and smell the flowers on the table. Martin purred a little when Molly fiddled his hair.
Martin was a bit like her cat, Toby, and Molly grinned at her own joke.