Doctor On Call
She was right. John is not that kind of people that gives up when he senses one of the people he cares about is not okay. So he rings just before she starts the car. She had parked it on the parking bays at the petrol station:
- John...
He clear his throat:
- Molly, uh... I just... You all right...
- Is that a question or a statement?
- I’m asking if you’re all right and you’ve gone and answered my question with a question.- He smiles slightly – Are you turning into Sherlock now?
- You didn’t need to ring me. I'm fine. - She says leaning against the petrol station where she stopped on the way back to London while eating a soggy sandwich.
- You didn’t expect me to, so why did you answer your phone? - he teases.
She rolls her eyes even though he can't see her:
- I'm gonna have to side with Sherlock and call you insufferable at this rate, Doctor Watson - she half smiles
- I take that as a compliment, Doctor Hooper. - He gives a small chuckle.
She would normally reply with a quick retort but she doesn't this time:
- Sure, sure...
- No snappy comeback? That bad is it - He says, still in a teasing tone.
- I'm just tired John. I was driving for four hours and I still have 3ish ahead of me - she says - how's Rosie? - A strategic diversion is needed and she knows how to divert John's attention.
He laughs softly, going along with the change of subject:
- She’s all right, missing her Momo. Her favourite word this week is ‘blue’. I think we’re moving past ‘no’ too, which is a bonus.
She smiles:
- No is a great word. We should all use it way more often.
- So I’ve been told. -he smiles as well, glad to hear her sounding more like her normal self.
She nods and takes a last bite of her sandwich. John had called her because she had tested that the date, or shall we call it Sherlock's experiment, had been a total disaster and that she was driving back home from Edinburgh. He can't help but worry. He's that kind of way.
- You’re not in a ditch on the motorway somewhere, are you?
- No, I'm on a Circle K outside of Manchester - she says- finishing up a soggy sandwich.
He laughs:
- Enjoying a gourmet meal, I see.
- It's not as bad as it sounds and the coffee is better than Bart's
- You’ve set the bar particularly low there, Molly, everything’s better than Bart’s coffee
She isn't in the mood for banter. She's not even sure she's in the mood for company even on the phone but she asks:
- He hasn't called you or anything?
He realises her change of tone and responds in a more caring manner.
- No, no he hasn’t. I assume ‘it’ went very badly.
- Yeah, Simon lashed out. He can't ... Let's say I may have been over reliant on my brother as a shoulder to cry on all these years. It wasn't Sherlock's fault.
- He’s a twat- He says simply, immediately hating the sound of her brother, but more so the fact that he’s upset her. He wants to protect her.
- My brother definitely is. But he's apologised. Lots.
- I assume Sherlock wasn’t as receptive. - He says, thinking of how Sherlock would take a genuine attempt at an apology.
- He held his tongue. He actually didn't respond to a single accusation.- That's what worries her - I left before my brother continued... I went for a walk till they were all in bed. And this morning Sherlock was gone. I texted and he was already on the train back to London
John’s a bit surprised as well, but he knows his friend and has thought this through.
- He didn’t want to cause any more trouble with your family, so he left before things got worse. He probably thought that by saying nothing, he’d make sure you wouldn’t have to take a side. That’s the most respectful and decent thing I could imagine him doing, Molly.
- I know
- Then why are you so worried. He’s done the right thing and, from what you’ve just told me, he’s even been mature in the process.
- I'm... It's okay. She says - I don't want to talk about it.
- You’ll feel better if you do, Molly. - He says this quietly, concerned about how she’s sounding and how she’s not really saying what’s bothering her.
- Not now, John, I appreciate what you are doing but... - She holds her tongue. She almost said something really inappropriate. She almost said that he's not Mary but doesn't say it, not now. It would be borderline cruel.
- It’s all right, Molly. - He can imagine there are a lot of things unsaid in her gaps. Not much went passed him, and after everything that’s happened, he understands. He doesn’t take offence. He feels for her. He knows what it's like to not be able to move on, but to pretend you have - It’s all right. We don’t have to talk about it now, but you can call me, all right? Any time.
- I know. She says I just want things to go back to normal. Leave all this madness behind.
He lets her change the subject again, deciding to go along with it in the hope it would take her mind of things a bit.
- ‘Normal’ being Sherlock and you trying to murder each other with passive remarks every time you meet?
- We don't do that. - she says bluntly. She's quite blunt with him.
He laughs again:
- If that’s not it, what does your normal look like, Molly? What is your normal with Sherlock?
She frowns:
- you know, I work, he needs help, I help, he disappears
- I’m not sure if that’s normal or dysfunctional… - he jokes, hoping she would respond to it.
- Dysfunctional is the new normal, John. You should know better than anyone. - Molly winces after her words leave her mouth. She has been harsher than she intended.
He stays silent for a moment and when he speaks, his voice is serious. He’s not upset at her, he’s just worried
- You’re not all right, are you?
- I'm fine - she says again
- You don’t seem fine. In fact, you sound very much not fine.- He speaks gently now, trying different tactics.
She's frustrated with him now. That last statement should have sounded like a slam on the door of this conversation:
- I just want to get home. Can I call you later?
- Will you?- He asks, before she can hang up - At least text me that you made it home safely.
- I will. Have a nice evening, John - she hangs up quickly before he presses matters anymore.
He looks at the black screen of the phone, he’s more worried than ever. He just hopes that she won’t ignore his request to let him know she’s home.
* *
Three and a half hours later as promised his screen lit up: I'm home.
He’s been waiting for this text, his phone has been laying next to him on a table the whole time, just in case she would text. He responds immediately, letting out a relieving breath: You all right? He can’t help but ask, he just needs to make sure.
I'm fine - She texts from her couch where Toby is curled up. The neighbour has been feeding him and now he claims his rightful spot beside her.
Go get some sleep, Molly - He responds, just wanting her to take care of herself right now.
Aye Dr Watson, night - she texts back.
He can’t help but laugh a bit at her reply: Goodnight, Scottish lassie. He’s about to put his phone down when he thinks of something. He has a hunch and he can’t let it go, so he types another message: Are you really fine or are you just saying you are? You know I can tell. When he’s done and has sent the text he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. What am I doing? He mutters to himself
- Does it matter? I don't want you to worry.
- Yes, it does... And I’m already worried. You should be able to talk to me.
- It's not about you, John. I just don't want to talk about me and Sherlock for a while. Okay? I need quiet.
- I know. I’m not trying to make it about me, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to act all fine when you’re not.
He’s concerned that she’s shutting herself off, he understands, but he worries it’ll make things worse.
- Is Sherlock back yet?
Molly's response is simple:
- I don't know. I haven't checked.
- You should text him. At least let him know that you got home safely.
- No...
- Molly. Text him. You’ll overthink if you don’t.
- I always overthink. If he wanted to know if I was safe he would have texted. Besides he probably saw CCTV from wherever and saw my car so he probably already knows that.
- You’re trying to talk yourself out of it. - He responds, not falling for her excuses.- It’s not about whether he wants to know, it’s about whether you want him to know.
- I don't want him to know if he doesn't want to know. That's our normal. That's what I need now.
- Are you sure that’s your normal? Because as far as I know, your ‘normal’ is Sherlock acting like he doesn’t care, but he does, and you being too scared to be honest because you’re afraid he doesn’t.
- Ouch
- Sometimes the truth hurts, Molly. You know it’s the truth. You’re not being honest with each other because you’re both so scared.
- And what truth are we not sharing because we are scared exactly, Dr Watson, expert on relationships?
- The truth that you care for each other. And I’m not an expert on relationships, but I do know the both of you are idiots.
Molly is rather happy this is all via text because she wouldn't handle it face to face:
- We do care. That's obvious at this stage but nothing will come out of it. End of.
- How do you know that nothing will come out of it? - He types back, still trying to get her to really open up to him.
- It can't. And he doesn't want it.
- He does want it. - He types back fast, absolutely positive of the fact.
- He does not. Ask him about this experiment, the famous unsuccessful date we just had, you will see.
- Maybe it was unsuccessful because it was an experiment. Not a date. - He replies, he’s starting to feel rather invested in this. He hates to think of her suffering this way and Sherlock's blinding inability to communicate feelings.
- What do you expect me to say to that? - She's texting now quite annoyed.
- The truth, Molly. Or at least let me give you my truth. - He is starting to feel frustrated with her.
- Tell me so. Go ahead. It's not like you will shut up
- I just want you to stop being so stubborn for once in your life and realise a good thing when it’s right in front of you. - He texts, the frustration getting a bit too big in this conversation for typing.
- What? You want me to text him and say that I don’t believe a word my brother said?
- Text him and just be honest for once. Tell him that you care for him, ask him how he’s feeling and what he’s thinking about. If you want things to go back to how they were, you’ll talk to him. Even if he doesn’t say anything back, if you’re honest about what you’re feeling, you’ll feel better. - He types quickly, he’s really going into ‘dad-friend-lecture’ mode now.
She reads it and re reads it. John's words are doing something. She knows he's right and for once, she may actually say it:
- okay.
- good. - He responds, feeling a bit relieved by her response. He was afraid she’d just refuse and that would be the end of it for tonight, or maybe for much longer. But he knows this feeling of hers and he didn’t like it. So he’s glad she just agreed.
- And if it backfires?
- Then at least you’ll know. - He knows he’s playing the devil’s advocate here, but he’s just being honest with her.
- Okay. - There's a small smile on her face although he can't see her - I'll do it straight away.
- You sure, you don't want to wait till the morning? - He responds. He wants to make sure she’s not just doing it because he’s told her to, he won’t have Sherlock blame him if things go wrong.
- If I wait I won't
- Then send the bloody message. - He types back. He’s glad she’s doing it. He’s positive it’ll be all right, but of course there’s still a bit of fear
- Oh god, here it goes. - She types to John. She's following John's advice. Then she types: Hi Sherlock. Hope you made it back to London okay. I'm home too. MH.
John and Molly waits for a response and no idea what to expect.
- Yes, I'm back safely. SH
One liner. She texts John
What does it say? - He responds, still curious and invested into the situation. She copies it to John ‘Yes, I'm back safely. SH’. John asks: That’s all? He is a bit disappointed that Sherlock isn’t more responsive to her kind message.
- Yup, maybe I should leave it
- No, you shouldn’t. - He types back immediately. He’s not letting her give up so quickly now. She needs to be honest and open. If Sherlock isn’t being responsive, that’s on him.
- Okay let me see
- You’ve got this, Molly. - He responds, trying to encourage her to keep going
She types to Sherlock:
- I just wanted to say that I think Simon was a twat to you. He apologised several times after you left. And I don't think you are all those horrible things and I don't believe any of it. I don't share his point of view. I care about you. That much is obvious. I know. How are you feeling? I don't know. I know the experiment date was a disaster. But what are you thinking? Would you like to have a proper date? Or If you want things to go back to how they were, it's fine. I understand. MH.
- I don't know what I'm thinking. I am quite sure the "proper date" should be left for the time being. You deserve better, Molly, someone who is "less of a screw up" to quote your brother's assessment of me. I care for you, as a friend. SH.
- Okay. Good night, Sherlock.
- Good night, Molly.
Sherlock reads the last few texts and sighs, placing the phone to one side. Sherlock takes a deep breath, his thumb hovering over the keypad before he taps on the screen, a pensive expression on his face.
She doesn't text John back in a while because it has backfired like she said but she doesn't want to disappoint anyone else tonight. John asks:
- I assume you didn’t receive a response? - He types, he’s a bit nervous now. All he wants is for her to be all right. When will those two idiots stop messing around?
- I did
- And? What did he say? - He types back immediately, eager to know the contents of that message but already knowing that it doesn't sound good.
- He doesn't want it. He gave me the I'm not-good-enough bullshit and one of his usuals. It’s over, John. I guess it's for the better. Good night.
Of course he would. He mutters under his breath. He’s both frustrated and heartbroken by that. He knows Sherlock is protecting her, but he feels like he’s just being stupid and stubborn. But he also knows that the night isn’t over yet, so he continues with the conversation:
- Are you sure it’s ‘over’?
- It has to be. - She says feeling her stomach in knots. - It's as over as it ever was.
He sighs at that, this is exactly what he dreaded. Sherlock really does think he’s doing the best for her. Damn it.
- Did you really tell him how you feel?
- Yes. I sent one of my long heart-on-my-sleeve rants, John. It's okay, honest. I'm just gonna go to sleep. I need to stop thinking and just... Move on. Really move on.
He groans silently. Damn it, he’s really doing it. He’s giving up on her even though she’s making it clear how she feels. He feels guilty for encouraging her now. It’s killing her inside and Sherlock is as unresponsive as ever
- You’re sure you’ll be all right? - He reads the text, it’s obvious she’s trying to hide her emotions. He knows her well enough to read between the lines and know that she’s feeling like she’s being ripped apart with both Sherlock’s rejection and him knowing how she feels. He feels guilty. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed. Maybe he overstepped and it just made things worse. He wants to help, but he’s afraid to make it worse for her - Night, Molly.
- Night, John.
Minutes later he gets a text from Sherlock:
- There's a 4, maybe a 5. Are you able to join me tomorrow? - Sherlock is aware of Rosie’s needs and he wonders if John can leave her with someone. Sherlock doesn't know that John knows how the conversation has gone with Molly.
John sees the message and feels surprised that Sherlock is asking for his help now. After what he’s just done to Molly, the one person who really cares about him. He sighs and types back: ‘What time?’ He then follows up with another message: ‘I’ll need to arrange a babysitter. It could take a while to find someone’. Sherlock answers in his usual pragmatism:
- Molly is free
He stares at that text for a couple of moments, a bit taken aback. He knows Sherlock knows how she feels and he feels a sudden pang of anger at his friend. It’s not the right time, but it’s definitely a discussion he’s looking forward to having with the detective:
- Molly’s free?
- I already asked her.
He grits his teeth. Of course Sherlock already asked
- Is that all you have to say?
Sherlock raises an eyebrow:
- Is this the beginning of a lecture on social skills via text?
- No, but it definitely is a comment on yours. How you treat people.- Although he’s angry, he tries to keep his temper in check. There is no need to get annoyed through a text conversation. He’s also trying to hide the fact that he’s furious at his friend.
- Relationships are not my area. You know that. She knows that.
- ‘Not being your area’ doesn’t give you the excuse to be a wanker, Sherlock. - He’s not hiding his anger anymore
- How am I being a wanker exactly? - He would call it blunt to be kind - after all pushing her to move on from this romantic love fantasy is a kindness.
- Love is not a fantasy. – John types back. He’s starting to feel a surge of rage coming on and he’s having a hard time containing it. Maybe he should just stop responding but he can’t. After the way Sherlock has hurt Molly, he finds it unacceptable that he’s hiding behind his ‘bluntness’ instead of manning up to his feelings for her. He types again, without thinking it through - You like her. She likes you. You know it, I know it, she knows it. But you’re too scared of your emotions so you push her away instead of dealing with them properly. That makes you a wanker. – John puts his phone down for a few moments and takes a couple of deep breaths. Maybe he should just stop the conversation because it’s starting to get a bit out of control and he’s not doing Molly or Sherlock any good by losing his temper.
- I'll add it to the list of things people call me.
- Fuck off.
- Knew you'd come round one day. See you tomorrow, John.
John knows it's pointless to continue the conversation. He knows Sherlock is not going to reply any more, no matter what he types and it is late. He places the phone on the bedside table and stares at the ceiling in the dark. He used to be able to help people, his friends. He must have lost his charm. He misses Mary more than he knows and he has to close his eyes really tight, not to see her, again, not to start having conversations with her. If she wants to come into his dreams, so be it, but not now, he has some control. Rosie’s patter patter is heard from the other bedroom and she climbs on his bed. He can't deny her little one and he has to definitely agree that her baby smell is the best sleeping tablet. Otherwise tonight it would have been a long night.