Molly-Hooper-RP

Molly Hooper can't remember a time when she's been this sick. Yesterday, it just felt like a cold, but after a sleepless night of coughing and blowing her nose, she feels about a thousand times worse.

It takes a lot to keep Molly out of work, but this morning, she's barely even aware that her alarm went off. Her head feels like it's about to explode, her throat is raw and painful...generally, every inch of her aches.

She's curled on her side under her layers of blankets, eyes squeezed tight in a feverish half-sleep. She can't even get up the energy to call in sick. It's probably afternoon by the time she manages to make herself find some food in the kitchen and feed Toby, and then right back to bed, right back to sleep.

The next day, Molly's no better. She coughs harder with no effect, digs through her cabinet and finds no medicine. She'd go to the doctor, but it's just the flu, it's just going to run its course anyway. Somehow, she summons the energy for a shower, then collapses back into her bed. But she doesn't seem to be healing. Her cough is getting even worse, and every breath hurts. She's barely eaten anything in the past few days, a combination of being too weak to get anything and too sick to have an appetite.

Still, there's no one to help her, so she suffers on, wondering if she's going to have to force herself to the hospital.

Is it too late to bring this back? (NO!) And I quote you, from one of our projects from six months ago*:

"As for Koren, I want to wait for a while before she finds out. I want Moriarty ample time to mess with Molly's head, and now wouldn't be the time. Sorry. But I promise that the time will come when she does. Oh, speaking of twisting people, can we PLEASE write an OOC or random scene with dark!Molly and Moriarty? I really, really want to do something sick and twisted and quite possibly bloody (because for whatever demented reason blood turns Moriarty on DX)"

Anyway, I think the eventual climax where Moriarty totally destroys her would be fun to write. Also some dark!Molly because I haven't tried that. I of course understand if you don't want to...just let me know.

(*- yeah, I know, it's been forever...still.)

My laptop died. Which means computer access is very limited, so I may not be on as much...

Molly reached out one gloved hand to turn the cadaver's face away from her. There, now she could see the damage more clearly. Significant bruising on one side of the neck, torn sternocleidomastoid. She looked again, then scribbled some notes on the form. Bloody paperwork. It seemed like she was buried in mountains of the stuff; just when one thing was almost finished, another would pop up. At least this one was fairly straightforward- as straightforward as a homicide victim's autopsy can be.

Jonathan had called in sick and Karen was on maternity leave, so she and Andrew were left with twice as much to do today. She tried to look at the bright side- overtime pay. Heaven knew she needed it- yesterday she'd received a notice that her rent was going up. Almost too far up.

Focus. Molly moved down, turned the stiff arms to see if they'd gotten any injuries. A few scratches and bruising on the left, just bruising on the right. She had just pressed the ballpoint pen's tip to the paper when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She jumped, dropping the pen on the cadaver's shoulder. "Sorry," she mumbled to the deceased, retrieving the pen and setting her clipboard down. The phone buzzed again. Who would be calling her at this hour? It was the middle of the day, all her friends (the few and extraordinary) were at work, Sherlock always texted, and anyone from work would page her. Carefully, she peeled off her right glove and dug that hand into her pocket.

She flipped the phone open with her thumb and peered at the caller ID: UNKNOWN NUMBER Molly sighed and hit the green button, then held it up to her ear. "Hello?"

((Please, someone.))

((You might want to read through the comments on this)) www.mollyhooper.co.uk/blog/25m…

Well, this was weird. But Molly's life had been, by definition, weird as soon as she had decided on a career. She tried to recall a Jim from IT, but try as she might, no face presented itself. Of course, what with their total inability to be helpful and tendency to whisper perverted jokes when the Boss wasn't looking, she wasn't very familiar with the blokes from IT.

Couldn't hurt though. She was going to be stuck in the lab for a while, and her mug had run dry long enough ago that her eyes were beginning to feel heavy and gritty. (Was her nose really cute?) Molly stretched as much as she could without knocking something toxic over, turned off the computer's monitor, and stood. Grabbing her mug (decorated with kittens), she let her feet find their way through the nearly-empty hospital to the staff kitchen, where the constant supply of cheap coffee guaranteed at least one person present. At this moment, it was a relatively small man about her age with messy black hair, clever, sparkling eyes, and a sheepish smile. With his t-shirt and tight jeans, he was barely in dress code, even for IT. Assuming he was the one she'd arranged to meet with.

"Hi." Molly smiled shyly. That was a fairly noncommittal monosyllable, wasn't it? So even if this wasn't Jim, she wouldn't be embarrassing herself too badly.