Lies Exposed || darkmolliarty/diglestrade
The words still rang through his head as he nervously bit on his thumb, staring out of the window of the cab.
Did you miss me. Did you miss me. Did you miss me.
Of course he bloody hadnât. That maniac had been the cause of so many troubles nearly three years ago. Sherlockâs reputation. Children abducted His own credibility.
They had all moved on from that. Sherlock had even returned from his demise, against all odds. For the past few moths, everything had seemed normal again.
Until that broadcast had appeared. One quick phone call to Donovan had confirmed this hadnât just been the telly in the pub. This was nationwide. Everyone had seen this.
Whose phone had incidentally gone straight to voicemail when he had tried to call her. Even her office phone wouldnât get him through.
He wished he had driven his own car, but knowing he would consume a few pints, he always took a cab. And this particular one was driving too slow for Gregâs liking.
He had chewed off all the callous of his thumbs when he arrived at Bartâs, quickly paying the cabby, and running up the stairs to her office. At the desk, he was supposed to ID himself, but he stormed right past the security bloke and made his way over to Mollyâs office, the agitated officer following him.
âPOLICE!â he shouted back at the man, flashing his ID before disappearing into office.
âMolly?!â he called. The morgue was quite a labyrinth of office spaces, examination rooms and dead rooms.