Link to last chapter: http://rhaine-weber.tumblr.com/search/you+can+see+me
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You Can See Me
A Molly/Sherlock fic by rhaine-weber
Sherlock © BBC
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The last chapter was pretty short, but I needed it to end where it did. This chapter will be longer. In this chapter, we’ll be seeing some familiar faces popping up, so be on the look out, though I’m pretty sure they’ll be hard to miss.
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“MOUSY MOLLY! MORBID MOLLY!”
The large boy, Moran, had his fingers clutching Molly’s hair, pulling her up harshly to make her look at his face. She gasped in pain, biting her lip till it bled to keep from crying out. She wouldn’t give Sebastian Moran the satisfaction. But, she could feel her strength slowly breaking as the older boy sneered, the children gathering around, chanting those hateful names. She felt tears welling in her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. She was used to this kind of thing happening to her, but none of them had been this physically painful.
“You like dead things, Mousy Molly? Hmm?” He laughed, and she could feel his hot breath against her face. He held up a small dead bird up by the tip of it’s wing, the neck of the bird hanging limply in an awkward position. He began to bring it closer to her face. She wasn’t in the slightest repelled by the small bird, didn’t really feel anything at all except the soft pull of curiosity inside her. But, with Moran tugging mercilessly at her hair, the children’s taunting and laughing in her ears, she felt sick. “Stop this, Moran.” Came the raised, dark voice through the crowd. The children slowly stopped their screaming and laughing, turning their attention to the tall, lanky, dark haired boy who stepped forward. Molly’s heart stopped. She didn’t think about why he was doing this, she only felt afraid for him, afraid for the brilliant boy. “Sh-Sherlock! No, get out of here!” She said, her voice shaking slightly, her head aching. He didn’t say a word in reply to her, though his eyes lingered on her for a moment, as if considering something important. His cold eyes locked back on Moran, and he rose to his full height, almost eye level with the older boy. Moran chuckled lightly, jerking Molly’s head up once more, causing her to gasp softly, biting down once more on her bleeding lip. He grinned as if he had just been told an amusing joke. “Oooo, Sherly. I didn’t know you loved Mousy Molly.” He snickered, yet Sherlock’s face remained impassive, calm. Only Molly could see the blaze of his eyes as she looked up at him through tear filled eyes. “She doesn’t deserve this.” He stated simply, making Moran freeze for a moment. “Really? W-” He began, but Sherlock quickly cut him off. “The fact that your father is a drunk, and behind closed doors would beat you, explains your regular taunting and physical abuse of those weaker than you. You direct most of your energy and time on me, because I have, on several occasions, provoked and agitated you in some way. But,” He paused for a moment, eyes moving to Molly’s wide eyed face before moving back to Moran. “She’s never done anything to provoke you, Moran. So yes, she doesn’t deserve this.” He snapped, his lips turned down in a frown.
Molly could feel the anger bubbling up inside the older boy, and she felt her blood grow cold as he let her go, moving forward towards Sherlock. She crumpled against the ground for a moment, cursing her knees for giving out. Her fingers moved to her head to faintly brush against her scalp, yet she winced, pulling her hand away. She looked up, finding that Sherlock’s eyes were on her, as if he wasn’t concerned at all about the large, seething boy coming towards him.
The next few moments were a bit of a blur. She saw a few of Moran’s friends grab Sherlock restraining him, bringing him down. Sebastian came forward, his fists beginning to collide with Sherlock’s face. A few of the children had cleared out, but those that remained began chanting. “FREAK! FREAK! FREAK!” It rung through Molly’s head. “No!” She cried out, running forward on shaky legs to begin trying to pull them off him.
Sherlock didn’t make any attempt to fight back. Perhaps he knew it was useless, or perhaps he knew that if he let them do what they would with him, they would soon be off, bored with him. They would leave the girl alone.
He didn’t quite understand why he was doing this. He could’ve just stayed where he was, let them bully her like that. But, he felt something pulling him to his feet, sending him in the middle of that crowd. Ever since she said that to him, about him being good, not a freak, he found his attention being drawn to Molly Hooper during most of his classes. She was a mystery, a puzzle that he couldn’t work out. And when he saw her face just now, he didn’t understand the feeling of concern that shot through him. He made an excuse for himself that it was merely his instincts that brought him to want to protect the small girl. It was a lousy excuse, especially for him, but he dismissed it, tucking it away in his Mind Palace, resolving to think on it later.
Moran and his friends soon left as he had predicted. He blinked a few times, analyzing his level of pain to see how much damage they had inflicted upon him. It was pretty bad this time, and he really wasn’t very surprised. She was beside him then, leaning over him, her fingers brushing against his face. She heard her rushed, almost panicked whispers, yet they seemed far away. He had to focus somewhat to hear her. “Oh, oh, Sherlock. Wh-Why did you do that? Oh no. I’m sorry, so sorry.” He blinked up at her a few times, her light brown eyes wide and afraid. Was he really in that bad a state?
He found her arms around him, hoisting him up to a standing position. He blinked in surprise a few times at how strong the girl was. She pulled his arm around her shoulders, pulling him forward. He was able to walk easily, though he found himself quite dizzy, and he was thankful of her arm around his torso, balancing him.
“Oh dear, oh…Sherlock. Have to get you to the nurse…Why’d you do that? That was silly, Sherlock. Oh, I’m so sorry.” She kept rambling like this while they made their way through the grounds, catching a few odd glances from students on their way, but nobody seemed interested enough to inquire. Perhaps they were used to seeing Sherlock bruised and bloodied.
Molly pushed the door open quickly, pulling Sherlock along with her. The nurse, Mrs. Hudson looked up from the stack of papers on her desk. Her eyes widened, and the short woman rose out of her seat, coming forward quickly. “Sherlock? Good lord, what have they done to you?” She tutted softly, helping Molly sit him down. Molly sat close by, intently watching the woman as she inspected the dark haired boy, cleaning his cuts and scratches out carefully. She inspected his nose, and smiled, finding that it wasn’t broken. She talked all the while, mostly things like, “It’s that boy again, isn’t it dear? Sebastian, yes?” Or, “Really need to stop testing him, Sherlock.” Or more often, “It’s not right that he keeps bloodyin’ you up like this, but you really have to stop deducing him, dear. You know how it turns out.”
His lip was split, and his right eye was blackened. His face was cut and bruised awfully. Mrs Hudson managed to clean everything out, set him out right again. Sherlock sat there, still the whole time, only replying with a soft hum of acknowledgment. Mrs. Hudson took a step back with a sigh. “Right, I’m done now, you can be on your way.” She smiled, eyes moving to Molly for probably the first time. She gave her a grin. “Hooper, yes? Molly?” Molly felt a blush creeping up in her cheeks and she nodded. “So good to see that Sherlock has a friend like you.” She said softly, and Molly couldn’t find the words to reply. Sherlock sighed exasperatedly, standing from his seat, now recovering from the dizziness he was feeling earlier. He pushed Molly out the door, sending Mrs. Hudson a last glance. “Lovely to have seen you, Mrs. Hudson.” He called back as he left through the door. “Always a pleasure, Mr. Holmes.” She laughed.