Fic: Frozen Feelings
Title: Frozen Feelings
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Molly/Jim, Molly/John
Characters: Molly, John, Jim (kind of)
Words: ~1300
Warnings: character death, obsession with a dead body (nothing graphic or too obscure, though)
Spoilers: The Great Game, speculation for afterwards
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: How does Molly deal with the consequences of the pool scene? It's not like Jim could leave her now...
Author's notes: Some speculations, although I am fairly sure it won't happen like this in the series.
Comments and criticism are very welcome. Enjoy. :)
These were the facts. Jim Moriarty, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes had all been at the pool when the explosion had happened. But unlike the latter two, Jim hadn’t jumped into the pool and therefore not survived with minor injuries. Instead, ironically, Jim Moriarty had died at the age of 33 years, 176 days and two minutes in a trap he himself had set up.
At first, Molly didn’t believe them. Jim killed in an explosion? Her Jim? The only one who had ever loved her because of who she was? How could anyone have dared to take him away? But then she saw his body, cold and lifeless and beautiful, and understood that someone - something - fate? - meant her to be alone. And for the first time in her life, Molly decided to defy fate and keep her one true love to herself. To her surprise it seemed that defying fate wasn’t that difficult when you are the one in charge of a morgue.
Then other thoughts started to spin in her head. How could Sherlock and John have survived when her Jim was dead? It was then that they told her Jim had wanted to kill those two. She didn’t believe that either. Oh, she could believe he had wanted to kill Sherlock. But then, who didn’t? Even she had thought about it and she really wasn’t a bad person. The only thing that perplexed her was why he had wanted to kill John, too. John was always nice.
In fact, John was even nice when he came to see her at work to ask about Jim. Molly had expected Sherlock, but apparently he was still in hospital. Good enough. She burst into tears when John first mentioned Jim. “They have taken him away! I have no idea where! How can they not tell me??”
John, being nice, handed her some tissue. So she cried some more and sobbed: “I never want to see Sherlock again! Tell him not come to me anymore. I can’t stand looking at him and thinking about Jim.”
John looked taken aback, but nodded. She liked John. He was easy to manage. Unlike Sherlock who would see through her lie immediately which was the reason she could never see him again. It was for Jim, she told herself, but the thought still stung.
When John had left, she followed an empty corridor, looked around carefully and let herself into a small, cool room at the back. She could almost see Jim smile when she told him how she had tricked the men who were responsible for his death. With him she felt safe and at ease, so she stayed the whole night sitting next to Jim, trying not to fall asleep so he wouldn’t feel lonely.
Of course, the police also asked for Jim’s body. But Molly had made sure to wait until the autopsy and all necessary procedures had been performed before taking care of Jim, so they didn’t really care that much. She had never been a particularly good liar, but as it turned out even Detective Inspector Lestrade was at loss dealing with a hysterically crying young woman. Jim would have been so proud. He had been there to love her when no one else had and now she was here to protect him when he was weakest.
During the following weeks, she received quite a lot visitors to ask about Jim and about how she was doing. Amazing, how everyone was suddenly interested in her boyfriend once he was dead. She didn’t care for any of them, though. How could she ever have craved such attention? The only one she wanted to talk to was Jim and he listened attentively to every little thing she told him. What she wanted to do for her next holiday, what to have for dinner or whether it would rain tomorrow. She felt happy talking and sitting next to him, but still… It would have been better if he had responded sometimes. Or take her into his arms. Or even tell her to shut up. Instead he lay there completely still and no sign of life escaped his perfect, frozen body. Molly always left the room when she felt like crying. She didn’t want Jim to know she was feeling lonely despite having him all to herself.
Sometimes, John came to see her about some of Sherlock’s cases. To her surprise (and maybe just a little bit disappointment), Sherlock really never turned up himself. Molly wondered for a while how John had made him respect her wishes, but then decided it didn’t matter. John’s visits always provided a welcome distraction from well-wishing distant relatives and boring other people. She found herself even looking forward to seeing and helping him with the often bizarre cases.
Thus, it came as a shock to her, when one day John turned in the door just as he was about to leave and said: “I won’t be coming in the next weeks. Maybe month, don’t know yet. Sherlock isn’t taking any new cases. Got himself pretty paranoid with Moriarty’s missing body and all.”
Molly felt like screaming, screaming and never stopping. She wanted to tell John how her Jim was perfect and beautiful and yet cold as ice and definitely dead. How she knew he was dead but checked his pulse everyday nevertheless. And how she held his hand until her fingers were numb and icy, hoping to give him some warmth. And how, how could Sherlock who always knew everything not know this??
Of course, she couldn’t say any of this. But something must have shown in her face, because John had hesitated. “Um, if you need a friend to talk to, we could have some dinner together someday. Just order some takeaway and talk a bit or maybe watch some movie? Better not come to see Sherlock, though, it would only be bad for his nerves. So, I could come over to your place, if you don’t mind?”
To her own surprise, she agreed. It was the first thing she didn’t tell Jim. Not that she wanted to betray him - no, she didn’t feel anything but vague friendship for John. But Jim got jealous so easily and why upset him without any reason? She also didn’t tell him about the dinners and lunches and meetings that followed every once in a while. In fact, she told Jim less and less, having a real person to talk to now, someone who could answer and ask questions she didn’t anticipate. Not that she neglected Jim, she visited him regularly, but most of the times his presence just made her feel cold and distant instead of comforting.
Molly wanted to tell John then, but she didn’t know how without him assuming she was a freak. But she felt so sorry for him, as Sherlock’s increasing paranoia made his life harder every day. So when he met her for lunch break one day and looked exceptionally tired and worn out and told her he hadn’t slept in days, she just couldn’t keep her secret anymore.
“John”, she said. “You can stop worrying about Moriarty.”
The police came the next day to collect the body. However, instead of arresting Molly, Lestrade even thanked her for providing the final clue. Molly wondered what story John had told them. As she watched them take away her cold lover, she realized she hadn’t even said goodbye to Jim. All she had been able to think about had been the scared look on John’s face when she had told him the truth. She watched him silently as he tried to calm down Sherlock who seemed furious for not having figured out everything by himself. When John caught her eye, he smiled and walked over to her.
“Hey Molly. What about watching a DVD tonight? I just found some you might be interested in. Have you ever seen Corpse Bride?”
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Molly/Jim, Molly/John
Characters: Molly, John, Jim (kind of)
Words: ~1300
Warnings: character death, obsession with a dead body (nothing graphic or too obscure, though)
Spoilers: The Great Game, speculation for afterwards
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: How does Molly deal with the consequences of the pool scene? It's not like Jim could leave her now...
Author's notes: Some speculations, although I am fairly sure it won't happen like this in the series.
Comments and criticism are very welcome. Enjoy. :)
These were the facts. Jim Moriarty, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes had all been at the pool when the explosion had happened. But unlike the latter two, Jim hadn’t jumped into the pool and therefore not survived with minor injuries. Instead, ironically, Jim Moriarty had died at the age of 33 years, 176 days and two minutes in a trap he himself had set up.
At first, Molly didn’t believe them. Jim killed in an explosion? Her Jim? The only one who had ever loved her because of who she was? How could anyone have dared to take him away? But then she saw his body, cold and lifeless and beautiful, and understood that someone - something - fate? - meant her to be alone. And for the first time in her life, Molly decided to defy fate and keep her one true love to herself. To her surprise it seemed that defying fate wasn’t that difficult when you are the one in charge of a morgue.
Then other thoughts started to spin in her head. How could Sherlock and John have survived when her Jim was dead? It was then that they told her Jim had wanted to kill those two. She didn’t believe that either. Oh, she could believe he had wanted to kill Sherlock. But then, who didn’t? Even she had thought about it and she really wasn’t a bad person. The only thing that perplexed her was why he had wanted to kill John, too. John was always nice.
In fact, John was even nice when he came to see her at work to ask about Jim. Molly had expected Sherlock, but apparently he was still in hospital. Good enough. She burst into tears when John first mentioned Jim. “They have taken him away! I have no idea where! How can they not tell me??”
John, being nice, handed her some tissue. So she cried some more and sobbed: “I never want to see Sherlock again! Tell him not come to me anymore. I can’t stand looking at him and thinking about Jim.”
John looked taken aback, but nodded. She liked John. He was easy to manage. Unlike Sherlock who would see through her lie immediately which was the reason she could never see him again. It was for Jim, she told herself, but the thought still stung.
When John had left, she followed an empty corridor, looked around carefully and let herself into a small, cool room at the back. She could almost see Jim smile when she told him how she had tricked the men who were responsible for his death. With him she felt safe and at ease, so she stayed the whole night sitting next to Jim, trying not to fall asleep so he wouldn’t feel lonely.
Of course, the police also asked for Jim’s body. But Molly had made sure to wait until the autopsy and all necessary procedures had been performed before taking care of Jim, so they didn’t really care that much. She had never been a particularly good liar, but as it turned out even Detective Inspector Lestrade was at loss dealing with a hysterically crying young woman. Jim would have been so proud. He had been there to love her when no one else had and now she was here to protect him when he was weakest.
During the following weeks, she received quite a lot visitors to ask about Jim and about how she was doing. Amazing, how everyone was suddenly interested in her boyfriend once he was dead. She didn’t care for any of them, though. How could she ever have craved such attention? The only one she wanted to talk to was Jim and he listened attentively to every little thing she told him. What she wanted to do for her next holiday, what to have for dinner or whether it would rain tomorrow. She felt happy talking and sitting next to him, but still… It would have been better if he had responded sometimes. Or take her into his arms. Or even tell her to shut up. Instead he lay there completely still and no sign of life escaped his perfect, frozen body. Molly always left the room when she felt like crying. She didn’t want Jim to know she was feeling lonely despite having him all to herself.
Sometimes, John came to see her about some of Sherlock’s cases. To her surprise (and maybe just a little bit disappointment), Sherlock really never turned up himself. Molly wondered for a while how John had made him respect her wishes, but then decided it didn’t matter. John’s visits always provided a welcome distraction from well-wishing distant relatives and boring other people. She found herself even looking forward to seeing and helping him with the often bizarre cases.
Thus, it came as a shock to her, when one day John turned in the door just as he was about to leave and said: “I won’t be coming in the next weeks. Maybe month, don’t know yet. Sherlock isn’t taking any new cases. Got himself pretty paranoid with Moriarty’s missing body and all.”
Molly felt like screaming, screaming and never stopping. She wanted to tell John how her Jim was perfect and beautiful and yet cold as ice and definitely dead. How she knew he was dead but checked his pulse everyday nevertheless. And how she held his hand until her fingers were numb and icy, hoping to give him some warmth. And how, how could Sherlock who always knew everything not know this??
Of course, she couldn’t say any of this. But something must have shown in her face, because John had hesitated. “Um, if you need a friend to talk to, we could have some dinner together someday. Just order some takeaway and talk a bit or maybe watch some movie? Better not come to see Sherlock, though, it would only be bad for his nerves. So, I could come over to your place, if you don’t mind?”
To her own surprise, she agreed. It was the first thing she didn’t tell Jim. Not that she wanted to betray him - no, she didn’t feel anything but vague friendship for John. But Jim got jealous so easily and why upset him without any reason? She also didn’t tell him about the dinners and lunches and meetings that followed every once in a while. In fact, she told Jim less and less, having a real person to talk to now, someone who could answer and ask questions she didn’t anticipate. Not that she neglected Jim, she visited him regularly, but most of the times his presence just made her feel cold and distant instead of comforting.
Molly wanted to tell John then, but she didn’t know how without him assuming she was a freak. But she felt so sorry for him, as Sherlock’s increasing paranoia made his life harder every day. So when he met her for lunch break one day and looked exceptionally tired and worn out and told her he hadn’t slept in days, she just couldn’t keep her secret anymore.
“John”, she said. “You can stop worrying about Moriarty.”
The police came the next day to collect the body. However, instead of arresting Molly, Lestrade even thanked her for providing the final clue. Molly wondered what story John had told them. As she watched them take away her cold lover, she realized she hadn’t even said goodbye to Jim. All she had been able to think about had been the scared look on John’s face when she had told him the truth. She watched him silently as he tried to calm down Sherlock who seemed furious for not having figured out everything by himself. When John caught her eye, he smiled and walked over to her.
“Hey Molly. What about watching a DVD tonight? I just found some you might be interested in. Have you ever seen Corpse Bride?”